Chapter Thirteen
“….Nooooooooooooo!”
Robin Beswick woke in a sweat with the actual taste of bile in his mouth.
So real had the dream been.
Though it wasn’t often he was pleased to see the four walls of the tiny spare-room Corinne had assigned him since their role reversal this was certainly one of those times and, as he allowed his sweat drenched head to flop back onto the pillow, the sheer horror of his situation and the events leading to it began to replay themselves.
Since his life had been taken from him after the events of that night, and both Corinne and the black couple he had begun to find more terrifying by the day had decided to exact their own form of retribution rather than leave the task to the authorities, his sleep had been punctuated by such dreams. And on a regular ba
