Tell Me You're Sorry by Kevin O'Brien Read Free Book Online Page A

remembered how after CC had started high school she’d dropped her as a friend. Why risk her neck for CC? Still, if something was really wrong at the Hamners’ right now, maybe she could help. She imagined how grateful CC would be. CC might even be sorry she’d ever turned her back on her.
    â€œIs everything okay, honey? Do you see anything strange?”
    â€œI really wish you’d stop asking that.” Laurie’s hand shook as she held the cell phone to her ear. She took a deep breath, and turned down the Hamners’ driveway. “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. If anything’s stressing me out it’s you. I—I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude.”
    â€œNo, you’re right. I’m probably overreacting. I talked to them earlier today, and everyone was fine. You’re incredibly nice to do this for me. Thanks, Laurie. I—I hope your sister will be all right. Sounds like you’ve already had a pretty nerve-racking night. How old is—uh, Tara again?”
    â€œThirteen,” Laurie said, eyeing the house ahead. She could tell CC’s aunt was trying to make light conversation. But it wasn’t helping.
    The next closest neighbors were about half a block away around a bend in the road. If something terrible had really happened to the Hamners—or if somebody suddenly attacked her—no one could come to her rescue. No one would hear her screaming. And what could this woman on the phone do? She was on the other side of the country someplace.
    â€œI still haven’t met the new Mrs. Hamner,” she was saying. “Is she nice?”
    â€œShe pretty much keeps to herself. I’ve only seen her coming and going. . . .”
    Laurie trailed off as she heard tires squealing in the distance. She stopped halfway down the driveway. Through the trees, she spotted a pair of headlights—pinpoints in the darkness. She prayed it was her mother and Tara coming home—or maybe Mr. Hamner. She couldn’t quite see the car yet. It kept darting in and out of the blackness as it wound up the snaky road. She heard a few loose pebbles crunching under the tires.
    â€œAre you still there?” CC’s aunt asked.
    Laurie stepped back and watched the approaching vehicle. It was a pickup. It zoomed past the end of the driveway, and continued down the road until it disappeared behind some trees. She couldn’t hear the squealing tires anymore.
    â€œLaurie?”
    â€œI’m here,” she sighed into the phone. “A truck just drove by, that’s all.”
    She swallowed hard and started moving toward the house again. She stared at the TV’s flickering light in the lower level window. This close, she should have heard the television—its volume slightly muted by the glass. But all she heard was the wind and that rustling sound. “Okay,” she whispered into the phone. “I’m coming up to the front of the house now . . .”
    She peeked down into the recreation room. The set was on, but the room was empty. A TV table by the lounge chair was turned over on its side—and there were broken dishes on the floor.
    Laurie froze in her tracks. “God, I think you’re right,” she murmured. “Something’s wrong here. . . .”
    â€œWhat do you see?”
    â€œHold on.” Laurie crept toward the front stoop. She saw the door was open about an inch. Beyond the tiny chasm was darkness.
    â€œListen, Laurie, maybe you should turn back,” CC’s aunt said. “If you don’t like what you’re seeing there—”
    Laurie shushed her. “The front door isn’t shut all the way,” she said under her breath. “I—I’m trying to hear if anyone’s moving around or talking . . .” She hovered by the door. Part of her wanted to call inside and ask if anybody was home. Another part of her didn’t want to be heard at all. She figured