0,99 €
Mehr erfahren.
- Herausgeber: Keyla Damaer
- Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
- Sprache: Englisch
Can love be a crime?
A police officer on Mars, believes he can handle the planet's gritty reality, even his lover, a woman with a dangerous past. But when she kills a man, he must choose between duty to uphold the law and his desperate desire to protect her
Will he cling to his morality or succumb to the darkness that threatens to consume him for the woman he loves?
‘It Wasn’t the Rain’ is a story inspired by a pop song from the nineties. Read it today!
Das E-Book können Sie in Legimi-Apps oder einer beliebigen App lesen, die das folgende Format unterstützen:
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
Ähnliche
Contents
Title Page
Notes
Guide
Contents
IT WASN'T THE RAIN
Keyla Damaer
https://keyladamaer.com
***
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or a used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead, or otherwise, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. I really mean this. Totally not you.
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorised use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express permission of the author.
I write in British English. Colour and leant aren’t typos. It’s the funny way Brits spell the words.
That said, even if several set of eyes looked for errors (aka horrors), you may still find typos. Some kind souls have reached out to me to warn me about them, and I promptly corrected them. You can do the same here: https://keyladamaer.com/report-an-error
Other kind souls who had an opinion about the story have left reviews. I thank them all and you for snatching a copy of this story. Feel free to leave a short, honest review.
Copyright © <2023> Keyla Damaer
All rights reserved.
***
To Jeff who started the whole horror thing.
I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature open; it breathed hard, and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs.
IT WASN'T THE RAIN
‘What should we do with the body?’ Lothar Dunkel’s voice broke the heavy silence. The question struck him hard and sweet, like a volley of arrows during the Battle of Agincourt.
Hodelia stood still beside him. Red drops trickled from the knife in her left hand into a puddle at her feet, staining her white boots. Her black hair hung dishevelled down her shoulders, an aftermath of the brawl with Aiden, her late colleague.
A fountain of blood spurted from the man’s guts. He lay on the floor, between the kitchen table and the bed of Hodelia’s efficiency apartment. It was a hole on the first floor of the residential condo the Aftermath Corp rented to their employees.
‘Last time I killed a man didn’t work out well for me. I’m still paying off the lawyer. But you know better,’ Hodelia said, her blue eyes fixed on the UPD badge—Utopia Police Department—on the right side of Lothar’s chest.
Yes, he knew better. There was no way Hodelia could get out of this mess without a bag of credits to pay a successful lawyer. Neither of them had that kind of credits, though.
‘Take off your clothes,’ he ordered.
She harrumphed. ‘Don’t you think this would be a tad too creepy, even for us?’
Lothar ignored her jibe. Wrong time for games, her shift was about to start, and they had to act as if nothing had happened. ‘Hydrogen peroxide is what our teams use to cleanse murder scenes after collecting all the evidence. That’s what the disinfectant your company supplied you with is made of. Take a shower with it and be ready to clock in at work.’
Hodelia lifted her head and stared at him. ‘This may cost you your career.’
He tried to probe her with his eyes as he would with any other person on a crime scene. But Hodelia wasn’t any other person. Tall, voluptuous, athletic, she was a sex bomb and belonged to him. Yes, this may cost him his job and his freedom, but there were things worth fighting for, and he cared enough for Hodelia to know she was one. But he didn’t intend to get caught.
‘I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me,’ she added.
His hands weren’t any cleaner than hers. Sometimes shit happened, evidence vanished, people were dumped into the vacuum of space. Moral flexibility was necessary to survive in Utopia, the first and oldest human colony on Mars.
Like the time he had caught that doctor selling organs extracted from the corpses of his young patients without their parents’ consent. Lothar had never reported him, and the guy had saved five people’s lives with a corpse.
Lothar rolled up his black uniform sleeves. ‘You’re overthinking. Get your arse to work, and let me handle the rest. Just give me some disinfectant before you go.’
She straightened her shoulders and dropped the knife. It fell with a thud inside the blood puddle. Her clothes followed, covering the puddle and absorbing some of the fluid.
Hodelia’s naked body shone under the holographic lights of her room like a natural satellite lit by a star. Her perfect breasts reminded him of two mounds of basalt surrounded by hardened muscles.
When she disappeared into the bathroom, he activated the optical filter through his cranial implant to detect all the fluids in the room.
***
Fifty minutes before
At the end of his shift, Lothar locked his console in his cubicle at the police station in the Nova York Sector of Utopia. He was more than ready for a long night’s sleep. His last shift had lasted for a night and a day, and his eyes, even if enhanced with robotic optical nerves, were ready to pop out of his face if he didn’t close them for a time.
