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Adalet
Adalet
Adalet
Ebook70 pages57 minutes

Adalet

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She bears a scar that mars her breast.

And her soul.

Adalet sees only one way to overcome the ruins of her life. Entangled in a deadly game of lies, she stakes every last shred of herself on winning.

If you love a story full of twists and suspense, take a ride with Adalet.

 

This story appears in the short story collection, What Leads A Man To Murder. Here's what readers are saying:

 

"…had me gripped right from the beginning. At one point, I think I was literally sitting on the edge of my chair."

~ Dawn Van Beck, author of Pardon The Turkey

"Tiny details in this are stunningly brilliant…these illuminate the characters and situation with few words. Wonderful writing."

~ Catherine Ryan, author of The Hiding Kind

"I am reminded a bit of Gone Girl where bits and pieces of information are dangled. One can only keep reading to find out the answers…"

~ Sheilah Ward, reader and fan

"…had me hooked good from the first word to the very last."

~ MC D'Alton, author of Epona, and Numbers and The Tango

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJoslyn Chase
Release dateJun 6, 2017
ISBN9781386177630
Adalet
Author

Joslyn Chase

Joslyn Chase is a prize-winning author of mysteries and thrillers. Any day she can send readers to the edge of their seats, chewing their fingernails to the nub and prickling with suspense, is a good day in her book. Joslyn's story, "Cold Hands, Warm Heart," was chosen by Amor Towles as one of The Best Mystery Stories of the Year 2023. Her short stories have appeared in Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, Fiction River, Mystery, Crime, and Mayhem, Mystery Magazine, and Pulphouse Fiction, among others. Known for her fast-paced fiction, Joslyn's books are full of surprising twists and delectable turns. You will find her riveting novels most anywhere books are sold. Joslyn's love for travel has led her to ride camels through the Nubian desert, fend off monkeys on the Rock of Gibraltar, and hike the Bavarian Alps. But she still believes that sometimes the best adventures come in getting the words on the page and in the thrill of reading a great story. Join the growing group of readers who’ve discovered the thrill of Chase! Sign up at joslynchase.com and get VIP access to great bonuses, like your free copy of No Rest: 14 Tales of Chilling Suspense, as well as updates and first crack at new releases. See you there!

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    Book preview

    Adalet - Joslyn Chase

    ADALET

    ___________________

    Joslyn Chase

    ___________________

    GET YOUR NEXT JOSLYN CHASE BOOK

    FREE!

    But catch up on your sleep now.

    Once you start reading,

    it’ll be No Rest for you!

    Get the book free when you join

    the growing group of readers who’ve discovered

    the thrill of Chase!

    Get started now!

    Adalet

    _____________

    The first time he took me to bed, Paul found the scar.

    He traced it with a finger that felt like a white-hot knife, searing my flesh from collarbone to the space between my breasts. A rush of blood coursed through my eardrums, filling my mouth with the taste of tin and when I closed my eyes, the pictures inside my eyelids bloomed like blood-red fireworks. Short, panting breaths tore from the cage in my chest and I bit my lip against an escaping whimper which Paul mistook for passion. His lips came down over the scar, traveling the length of it, and beyond.

    After, as we lay on the cooling sheets, Paul asked how I got it. I told him I’d been in a three-car accident caused by a couple of deer on a mountain pass. I told him the hook where you hang your dry-cleaning caught me as I pitched up and forward, thrown by the force of impact, and how I’d broken all the fingers of my left hand which had never quite healed right.

    I told him these things as I studied the plaster-point constellations on his ceiling, a dull stone in the pit of my stomach pinning me to the mattress. I told him these things.

    And I lied.

    ~~~

    Nine days after our honeymoon, we attended a fundraiser picnic for the children’s wing at the hospital. Clusters of blue and white balloons festooned the walk, bobbing in the wake of racing youngsters. A jazz band tooted under cover of the gazebo, sending nostalgic tunes floating above our heads. Paul wore his good-guy face and I was careful to smile and chat, playing my role.

    I’m a good liar, but it brings me no pleasure. After my maneuvers over the past thirteen months, I should be as jaded as a Chinese relic, but the sour twist in my stomach still knocks me low and each step I take is a tiptoe across a thin, volcanic crust, a tenuous perch with a roiling mass just beneath.

    I am not the only pretender in this relationship. I understand Paul was stretching the truth when he told me how his college football performance came ‘this close’ to making him a draft pick for The Broncos. And, like most husbands, he’s adept at skirting the truth when commenting on my cooking, my wardrobe, or girls he’s known in the past. I consider these tactics a normal part of married life, though I admit our relationship is far short of normal.

    There are moments, with Paul, when prickles rise and creep along my spine. When he talks about how he spent his childhood in Nebraska. When I look past his hollow smile and see the ice behind his eyes. When he claims his father, now deceased, left him a small trust fund.

    We’re engaged in battle, he and I. May the best liar win. And, now, here’s the truth: I’ve staked every last shred of myself on winning this thing.

    The sun sliced down through a network of clouds, stippling the picnic tables and playing shadows over the faces milling about the hospital grounds. After the speeches and the cake-cutting, I made it a point to seek out Paul’s administrative supervisor. I found her surveying the flowerbeds and placed myself so that our paths would intersect.

    "Adalet, so good to see you. Nice tan you brought back from Crete. Was it wonderful?

    Fabulous! I’ve always dreamed of visiting the site of the labyrinth, to match wits with the Minotaur, wind out my own ball of string and explore.

    Gloria’s penciled eyebrows rose half an inch up her middle-aged forehead. She bent her head and began pinching dead leaves off the rosebushes. I needed her to confirm something for me, and wondered how to work around to it.

    I know it’s just a myth, I continued, but we visited the Labyrinthos Caves at Gortyn and the Heraklion Museum. The island is breathtaking and full of mystery. I loved it! Thanks so much for making it all possible.

    Her hands fell away from the flowers and she looked at me with astonished eyes. What did I do?

    Paul told me about the bonus you gave him.

    Two pink spots bloomed on Gloria’s cheeks, bright as the roses beside her. She looked across the manicured lawn, shading her eyes with

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