The Stranger Behind My Orgasm

Abigail

"Can you identify the body?"

The morgue was cold. The horrid stench of blood filled the air, clogging my nose and throat. A huge lump lodged heavy in my throat as I clamped a hand over my mouth to stop myself from vomiting.

The body on the table was mangled almost beyond recognition. There were several stabs all over the chest, congealed blood, thick and red drying over the wound surfaces.

His right leg was bent at an awkward angle.

"Miss, can you identify- "

"It’s him," A sob tore from my throat, my gaze going back to the face of the dead body on the cold morgue table.

Raymond Cole was dead.

When the police had called me barely twenty minutes ago, asking if I knew a certain Mr. Raymond Cole, my gut had squeezed in fear.

Why were the police calling me? Was this another trap? All those thoughts ran through my head, but none of them could come close to what just happened.

"What is your relationship to the victim?" The morgue attendant was a middle-aged woman, holding a clipboard and a pen in her hands.

Her suspicious dark eyes slid down my outfit in disgust, the sheer black dress that I had worn to the club. I had taken a cab straight down here when the police man on the line spouted some shit about how he regretted informing me, but Raymond Cole was dead.

My number was the only saved number found on his cellphone.

Oh god, my legs wobbled, and I stumbled back a few steps.

"Hey!" The attendant yelled, stepping away from me as if I was possessed, and tapped that stupid clipboard impatiently. "Look, girl, I don’t have all day."

My eyes couldn’t tear away from the dead body. The detective, the one person who had wanted to help me uncover what exactly happened to my parents, was dead.

No, he was killed. The stab wounds and his broken leg were enough to show that. He died because of me.

It was all my fault. I should have let sleeping dogs lie. I should have...No, what the hell was I thinking? My teeth gritted together in anger.

No, it couldn’t end like this. Why did they kill him? How dare they kill him? All he wanted was the truth.

"If I do not get a response, I’ll have to get security to drag you out!"

"His daughter," I croaked, giving the woman a dirty look. For someone who worked in a freaking morgue, she sure was insensitive.

I didn’t think Raymond Cole had a family. He had never mentioned them in the short time that I knew him, and if he had a family, the police would have called them instead of me.

The guilt on my chest grew to the size of a fucking elephant. It was after the call that I saw the fourteen missed calls from him. While I had been frolicking around with my boss at a sex club, Raymond had been fighting for his life.

God, how much more of a letdown could I be? How could I get carried away with Annette and Finnegan and forget all about the most important thing to me? What would I do now? All the leads I had were dead, along with Cole.

"His daughter?" A voice demanded behind us. I turned from the table to face the door.

A tall, lanky man stood at the door. He had a white shirt on, a dark grey waistcoat jacket, and matching pants on, holding a cigarette between his lips.

His bloodshot eyes roamed over my figure, lingering on my tits and my lips, curled in disgust. "Cole doesn’t have a daughter."

Shit. Another lie that I had been caught in today. Finnegan’s green eyes filled with anguish as he bellowed at me, filling my head, but I shoved it aside. I would worry about that later. First, I had to find out what the hell happened to Cole and who did it.

"He didn’t tell people about me," I replied, holding my head up high. "Who are you?"

"His brother," He gave a shrug, plucked the cigarette from his lips, and stalked out of the door before I could ask more questions.

Brother, my ass, he was definitely lying as I was.

My phone vibrated with a call in my purse. I fished it with shaky hands, swiping to receive the call from Annette.

"Abby? Girl, where are you? I’ve been searching all over the club,"

"Oh, so now you remember me?" I barked into the phone. "How was Zeus’s dick? It better have been worth disappearing like that without telling me shit!"

My shoulders rose and fell with each heavy breath I took in. God, I didn’t mean to yell at Annette. I was so fucking frustrated. How could so many things go wrong tonight?

"There’s no need to be so cruel about it," She sighed. "I’m sorry. I lost my head for a second. Are you home already?"

"At the morgue," My lips quivered as the tears I had been fighting so hard to hold back burst like a dam.

"Shitty shit, what happened, babes? What on earth are you doing at the morgue? Send me the address, I’ll come to get you."

"He’s dead," I gritted through my teeth, pressing the phone tight against my ear. The morgue attendant gave me another one of those looks of disgust.

I held up the middle finger at her, and those tiny beady eyes widened in shock as I made my way out through the door. "The detective is dead."

"Shit," Annette cursed.

"Shit is a fucking understatement," Cool air whipped against me. My heels clicked on the pavement outside, every step feeling heavy with guilt.

"They said it was a robbery at his apartment. That had to be the biggest piece of bullshit I’ve ever heard. He was stabbed all over, Annie. They broke his leg, it’s murder." I whispered into the phone.

An image flashed in my head, and I glanced back at the door to the morgue. "And I think I know who did it."