Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 44

Jessica stepped out of Herbert's car.

Herbert got out as well, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. He watched her go, his expression soft, his gaze lingering as she walked toward the house.

She'd barely taken a few steps when his voice called out, quiet but clear. "Little Mute."

Jessica turned back.

Herbert's lips parted, as if he'd meant to say something else, but he simply said, "Goodnight."

Jessica smiled and signed goodnight in sign language.

Herbert stood there, motionless, watching until she disappeared inside.

Upstairs, Timothy pinched his cigarette between his fingers, snapping it in half. The glowing tip scattered sparks onto the floor. He turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

Ding—

Jessica keyed in her code. The door swung open. She hadn't even reached for the light switch when strong arms swept her inside, pinning her against the door as someone's lips crashed onto hers.

A faint scent of tobacco, edged with cedar, filled her senses.

It took only a moment for her to realize—it was Timothy.

She tried to pull away, but he'd already trapped her wrists, his grip iron-strong, his body pressing her immobile.

There was nowhere to run.

Her back was flat against the door, the cool wood biting through her clothes, chilling her to the bone.

Timothy's kiss was fierce, possessive, his heated breath mingling with hers, as if he wanted to consume her whole.

His hands slid along her waist, his touch hot against her skin. Jessica's nerves sparked at his every movement, her body trembling out of her control.

Panic welled up. Tears pricked at her eyes.

She couldn't speak. Her resistance, feeble against his strength, was useless.

When she finally managed to cup Timothy's face with both hands, he seemed to think she was surrendering, leaning in for another kiss.

But then—crack.

Her open palm landed hard against his cheek.

Jessica smiled, but it was a hollow, brittle thing.

Timothy's brow furrowed, tension building in the space between them.

Just then, Jessica's phone rang. She pulled it out—Mabel's name flashed on the screen.

She didn't answer.

A moment later, Timothy's phone rang as well. Mabel again.

He picked up.

"Sir, it's Henry—he's burning up with fever. He keeps calling for his mom. I tried Mrs. Carter, but she didn't pick up. Please, come home right away."

"I'm on my way."

He hung up and grabbed Jessica by the wrist.

"Let's go—Henry's sick."

Jessica's heart clenched. Before she could think, she was already hurrying out the door, following Timothy into the night.