Page 1 of The Reaper

CHAPTER

ONE

HANNAH

Her hands still felt dirty.

They weren’t, they looked clean, but she scrubbed them anyway, hard. She could feel grit, something sticky, something gross and disgusting she wanted to wash off.

She swore under her breath and pumped the soap dispenser furiously, getting another large blob of pink, sickly sweet smelling soap into the palm of her hands, and scrubbing herself like she was about to commence open heart surgery.

The fucker. What gave him the right, no, theaudacity, to think he could boss her around like that? That made him think any of this was okay? That she would do what he said? She felt bile in the back of her throat and swallowed. But it didn’t clear.

Her phone beeped.

It washim, texting her. She knew it before she even looked. She roughly scrubbed her hands dry on the scratchy recycled paper towel and grabbed her phone from her trouser pocket.

“I know you are working today. I’m in the waiting area.”

She gritted her teeth.

“We need to talk.”He messaged again, seconds later.

Even his text messages were annoying, arrogant, bullying. The last thing she needed was to talk tohim.

Anger flared. Her scrubbed red fingertips flew across her phone screen, typing wildly.

“We aren’t together anymore, Paul, I don’t owe you anything.”

He immediately started typing back. She watched as her heart beat slammed in her ears.

“If you don’t, Hannah, your dad’s business? Kiss goodbye to that. I’m sure I can find a law or two that he is breaking.”

“He’s a mechanic, Paul, I doubt it.”

“That Mechanic shop could get really tied up in a whole lot of legislation, and I know your brother mortgaged himself to the hilt for his new family house…”

She knew she was trapped. She knew she had to do it. Her former lover, her ex-boyfriend, Police Constable Paul Roper. So respectable on the outside. Clean cut, a career man. Wined and dined her. They went to the gym together, played squash and then relaxed in the jacuzzi. She introduced him to her friends and family. They all cooed over how she was so lucky to date a man like him. She bitterly let out a small, dark chuckle at how ridiculous that all seemed now. She had felt it was too good to be true.

And then it turned out she had been right.

She felt like a mouse under the claws of a lion. A hungry, mean lion.

And so she was here, feeling dirty, feeling panicky, unsure how she could push back any more.

“I’m not overordering Fentanyl, Paul.”

“Come on, Hannah, you’re a nurse, you could overorder a few boxes, that way, they are in the prison. Throw in some needles and tourniquets, too, and I’ll show you my appreciation.”He ended that sentence with a winking emoji.

She wanted to puke.

“I take my job seriously, I’m not bringing drugs into Eastward Prison. End of...”

“Hannah, I’m asking nicely, I’ll ask you again and that will be not-so-nicely.”

She let out an anguished sigh, her fingers flying over the keyboard.“I could report you, you know, this text message conversation could ruin your career-”

He put a laughing emoji. She couldn’t see anything funny about this situation.

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