Twisted Love: Terrifying Thrillers with Twist Endings: Psycho Stories, #1

By RC Patterson

Brace yourself for terrifying thrillers that will grip you and leave you gasping. 

THE SECRET CALLER

Jordan never should have answered her husband's cell phone. Once the stranger begins calling, she's trapped in a nightmare that gets deadlier with every hour. What does the caller want? 

A TRUE GENTLEMAN

Berry is a nice guy. Berry is in love with a woman at his office. Berry is about to lose his mind. Berry's new girlfriend is in for a bloody surprise. 

HOLDING HER

After his wife is murdered, a grieving husband plots a gruesome revenge upon her killer. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: RC Patterson
• Release date: May 21, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386708087

RC Patterson

I'm insane.

Book preview

THE SECRET CALLER

ONE

There’s only two things I care about: my husband and my job. I care about my job because I care about my husband, and my husband... he’s dying.

It’s Monday. Rain starts tapping on the windows early in the morning just as the sun rises, and in less than a minute they’re crashing into it angrily. The sun barely lights through the dark gray sky, and I’m awake before my husband, like always. Just lying there in bed, eyes wide open at the ceiling. And something’s wrong. I can just feel it; something’s wrong. In the kitchen, his cellphone rings.

Who’s calling him? He hasn’t worked in months. He’s been too sick. So, who’s calling him?

I don’t wake him when I creep out of bed and to the kitchen. His phone stops ringing. It lays there on the counter, connected to the charger like a mouse trap. I tap it. The screen lights up, but the phone is locked. I bite my lip. I trust my husband, ever since he promised me his life when we married. He promised his life and his heart and soul, everything he had, and we said, I do.

So, who called him?

I pace through the kitchen, right past the golf clubs he left there yesterday. His prized club gleams in the kitchen light.

Who called him? Who called him?

He’s still in bed, asleep. I have a sick idea...

I take his cellphone into the bedroom.

My husband’s peaceful when he sleeps. I think it’s the sickness. It makes him sleep deeper than he has his whole life. He’s pale from it – sickly, scrawny, pale... dying a little more every day, taking my heart with him.

I slip the cellphone under his hand. Slow, very slow, I don’t even breathe. If he wakes up he’ll yell and throw something. His thumb rests on the end of his cellphone, right where the unlock button is. Come on, I think. Come onI I’m silent. The only sound is the rain and thunder outside the window. Then, his phone unlocks. He stirs. He turns over and grumbles something. He’s going to wake up...

I sneak back to the kitchen. He has six new messages from an unknown number. Don’t open them, I think. Don’t open them, he’ll know. I swipe the screen and open every single one. Blank. They’re all blank. Blank messages, no words, nothing. What is this? The phone rings.

It’s an unknown caller.

Don’t answer it, I think. Don’t answer it. He’ll know.

Hello? I answer.

No one speaks. There’s static that sounds like the hard rain outside.

Hello? Who is this?

A woman’s voice whispers, You know.

Hello? Hello!

The phone locks up. The caller is gone.

Baby, are you up?

He’s awake!

Baby? my husband calls from the bedroom.

I fumble with his charger and put the phone back where it’d been. Yes, babe. Just starting some breakfast.

Oatmeal and toast – it’s what I’ve made for him for months. He can’t keep anything else down. He can hardly stomach the toast, but doctors say he must keep eating, anything he can. He sits up in bed and I set it before him on his tray.

You’re too nice to me, he grumbles. He scratches his cheek. I haven’t shaved him in three days and the scruff must be annoying. I don’t deserve you, baby.

Shut up, J, I tell him. Here. I put some milk in it this time. It should help your stomach.

Baby, just get me a shot of whiskey. What are you saving me for? He coughs. It’s violent and sick. Some blood lands on his fist and I’m quick to wipe it away. He lays his head back against the headboard and stares at me. Those eyes, those damn blue eyes I fell in love with fifteen years ago. "I wish you didn’t have