Chapter 13

As darkness approached, Kerri willed herself to put on a full length silk nightgown. She wore nothing underneath as she knew Kyle would want easy access to her if he came home in the mood.

She tried not to cry. Kyle would not look kindly on swollen eyes. But, as she came to realize that his actions in the last two days had not been drunken rampages but rather coldly calculated rage, all directed toward her, huge drops ran down her cheeks and periodically her body would shake uncontrollably as she sobbed.

She had never met the girl Susan but she worried for her. No one deserved the fate which she herself had suffered. Yet, if she called the girl, it would probably mean the police, maybe even Kyle being arrested. And when he was finally released, as he eventually would be, it would be easy for him to figure out who had alerted Susan. Kerri would become his punching bag once again. but, apparently rapings and beatings were to become a normal part of her new life anyway.

And no one deserves a life like this, she thought, reaching for the phone.

Before she could pick it up, however, the doorbell rang.

Throwing on a robe, she opened the door a crack.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Police, ma'am," said one of the two uniformed officers. "Are you Mrs. Akers? Mrs. Kerri Akers?"

"Yes, what is it officers?" she said wondering if they had somehow found out and come to arrest her for prostitution.

"Could we come in?"

"Yes. Yes, or course," she said swinging the door open and admitting them into the small front hall.

"Ma'am, I'm afraid we have some bad news, some very bad news."

"It's Kyle isn't it?" she cried, her heart already in sympathy with the young man who had defiled and prostituted her.

"Yes Ma'am. There's been a shooting."

"Is he all right? Is he hurt?" she asked urgently her heart in her throat.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry. Your son is dead."

The reality hit her like a sledge. The last single vestige of a reason to live had, in that handful of words, been taken from her. He was gone. The one small light that remained in her life. Despite his actions and words, he was her son. He was of her body and carried in him, a part of her, a part that could yet have achieved, at least, some measure of a life of value and meaning.

And he was gone. Now, there was... nothing.

The officers reached for her as she fainted.

When she came to on the couch, the older officer explained that a girl by the name of Susan Tilman claimed Kyle had driven her to an abandoned warehouse, beaten and then tried to rape her. A security guard had discovered them, but Kyle, instead of surrendering had charged the guard who had shot twice, one of the bullets striking home. He was dead before the paramedics even arrived.