Read Online Mistrust by Margaret McHeyzer - Free Book Online

completely unaffected by the fact I’m running with no shoes. My hair is swinging from side to side and, as the cool night air smacks me in the face. The cold asphalt is coarse against the soles of my feet, and I have no doubt that soon, my feet will be bleeding.
    But, I don’t care. I need to get away from Sam. From her knowing.
    Hot tears stream down my cheeks. From the outside I must look like a girl jogging, on the inside, though, I’m a broken girl trying to get away from herself.
    My breath rasps in my throat as my feet take me far away from where I once thought I belonged. The streets are dark, isolated and though it is early evening the night sky is blacker than normal.
    My legs take me to a park a few blocks over, and when I get to its secluded green gardens I fall to my knees. Bringing my hands up to cradle my face I do the only thing I can do. I cry. A storm of emotions keeps building, a whirlpool of rage and hurt mix together.
    My tears cease and I look up to the full moon in the dark sky. “ARGHHHH!” I yell. The scream so deep, the sound so forceful my ribs vibrate against my chest. I keep screaming. My throat dries out, and my chest heaves as I gasp for air. With every part of me exhausted, I collapse to the ground. My body is spent. My rage has been consumed by so many other emotions, and I curl into a protective ball.
    Shame.
    Self-hatred.
    Embarrassment.
    Fear.
    Laying on the grass, the heaviness that was so prominent earlier lifts from my body, replaced by a warm body whose arms tighten around me.
    “I love you, Dakota,” the girl whispers. The girl, of course is Sam. “I’m so sorry.” She kisses my forehead while her arms tighten around me.
    We lay on the grass, with our arms wrapped around one another. No words are spoken. No promises are made; no lies are told. We just are.
    Wetness is soaking my t-shirt, and I know Sam’s crying too. Not for herself, but for me. She hasn’t asked any questions yet, but I’m sure she already knows. She’s always been the smart one out of the two of us.
    When her tears have stopped, and we are still wound around each other, I feel her chest heave a huge breath. “I got two messages,” Sam finally says. I don’t respond, I simply listen as I pet her hair and hold her tighter to me. “The first one said, ‘Your sister is a whore.’”
    Swallowing the huge lump in my throat, I attempt to hold back the tears because I really need to hear what she has to say.
    “I wouldn’t usually reply to anyone who’d say something like that, but I did. I said to them, ’I don’t know you, you have the wrong number.’ Because it came from a cell number I didn’t know. Right away, I got a reply.”
    My heart jumps wildly, goosebumps crawl all over my skin and my eyes prickle with barely-contained tears. “What . . .” I cough to get the roughness out of my throat. I take a huge breath, close my eyes and ask the question, “What did the second message say?”
    “It didn’t say anything, Dakota.”
    My eyes snap open, while my eyebrows furrow tightly together. “I don’t understand.”
    “It was a photo.”
    What the hell? “A photo? Show me.” Encouraging Sam, I move her off me and sit up on the grass. Sam positions herself so she’s sitting opposite me, our knees touching while we both huddle over her phone.
    “I wanted to delete it, but I already saw it. I can’t get that image out of my head. It’s scary. It made my stomach churn.”
    Oh God, please, please don’t let it be bad.
    “Show me.” I watch as her finger hovers over the bottom of the screen so she can slide it open. She’s hesitating. I know she is by the way her finger is lingering over her phone. “Just show me,” I say again softly.
    “I didn’t believe whoever it was, but then . . . this came through.” She swipes the phone on, and goes to her message icon. “Here.” She hands me her phone and immediately looks down at the triangle of grass caught under her crossed