Goodbye, Mr. Regret

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.

pull away, but he'd already trapped her wrists, his grip iron-strong, his body pressing

was nowhere to

was flat against the door, the cool wood biting through her

his heated breath mingling with

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

up. Tears pricked

Her resistance, feeble against his

Timothy's face with both hands, he

But then-crack.

landed hard against

head snapped to the side, a few pale fingerprints blooming on his skin. Whatever desperate need had been burning inside him vanished in an instant,

reached out and flicked on the

crossed her arms over her chest, her breath coming in shaky gasps. Her tear-filled eyes glared at Timothy, raw and

jacket, looked every bit the composed man he pretended to be. But

tears, her silent accusation hanging heavy in

a long moment, Timothy's voice broke the silence, cold and flat.

spent the night with

two of them. Who

divorce. How could he expect her to

that? Her shirt was already missing buttons, torn

glared at him, battered and furious, her movements sharp as she signed angrily, I

eyes narrowed, a sneer curling his lips. "Don't test