Desmond Mercado E-Book

Morero Monyokosedi

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

A devoted young husband, father of two sons, and deeply religious, uncovers his wife's extramarital relationship with a close friend. Consumed by anger, he confronts him, triggering a violent clash that tragically ends in the unintentional demise of his close friend. After being arrested and undergoing a trial that resulted in a twenty-five year prison term for murder, the story jumps forward to twelve years later when he is finally released and makes his way back to his fractured family. His eldest son has become a drug addict and his second son is imprisoned for involvement in criminal activities. The wife is lonely and trapped in the dangerous criminal underworld.

Leseprobe

Morero Monyokosedi

Desmond Mercado

A Candle In The Wind

BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

A STRANGE SENSE OF RELIEF

Desmond Mercado had spent the entire day searching for Cassandra, his wife. Panic gnawed at his insides as he wondered where she could be. The next morning, he stumbled upon the truth that shattered his heart into a million fragments.

Underneath the towering tree at the soccer field, Desmond saw his wife entangled in the arms of his so-called friend, Conrad. "Cassandra!" He yelled, his voice strangled with shock.

She spun around, her eyes wide with guilt. "Desmond, I--"

"Don't Just don't," Desmond interrupted, his voice dripping with betrayal. A wave of anger surged through him as he lunged at Conrad, fists flying.

"You're out of control, Desmond!" Conrad stammered, ducking one of his punches.

"You think this is control? Wait till you see what happens next!" He yelled, fueled by adrenaline and heartbreak. But, as luck would have it, his friend's head collided with a rock, rendering him unconscious.

Cold realization crept in, freezing Desmond's every limb. His frantic mind settled on a single thought: He had killed Conrad. Fear sank its fangs into his gut as he concocted a plan to get rid of the evidence.

Slinging Conrad's limp body over his shoulder, Desmond made his way through the streets towards a nearby bush. But, Murphy's Law seemed keen on thwarting his efforts. A chorus of obstacles impeded his progress—a careless cyclist, a blaring car horn, and a rogue squirrel determined to ruin his day.

Finally, he reached the muddy river where he planned to dispose of Conrad's body. But his misfortune persisted as he tripped over a slippery rock and tumbled into the water, pain exploding in his ankle.

"Arghhh!" He screamed, the agony resonating through the air.

In his desperate struggle to escape the icy clutches of the river, it dawned on him — he should have walked away. Left further behind, Cassandra walked timidly, trying to put together where Desmond is taking Conrad.

             Desmond struggling in the river, she rushed to him. "Desmond! What's happening?" Cassandra's voice carried, strapped with concern.

Desmond turned to her, his words strapped with a mixture of anguish and determination. "You're a cheat, Cassandra. But remember, karma is a wheel."

As he limped away, leaving behind the unconscious Conrad, he knew his life would never be the same. But with the storm of emotions churning inside him, he couldn't help but harden his heart.

Desmond's fingers trembled as he pointed them accusingly at Cassandra. "It's your fault! You drove me to kill Conrad!" He could barely contain the wrath swirling within him, spilling through clenched teeth like venomous hisses.

Cassandra's eyes welled up with tears, her voice trembling as she countered, "Don't you dare blame me, Desmond! You've always been distant, never truly there for me!" She sniffled, a pang of pain resonating in her voice. "You weren't even there when I had a miscarriage!"

The words hung in the air, thick with regret and the weight of their shattered dreams. Desmond's grip on reality began to slip as he traced back the missed moments, the forgotten anniversaries, and the nights spent in silence. The darkness whispered its sordid secrets, fueling his anger.

With a heaving sigh, Desmond collapsed onto the disheveled bed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I wanted us to be happy, Cassie."

Cassandra's heart ached as she watched her husband crumble before her. She slid onto the bed next to him, their fingers intertwining as she leaned in, her breath grazing his ear. "Desmond... maybe we've both made mistakes. But we can mend this. We can find a way back to each other."

As the first rays of dawn pierced through the window, bathing their intertwined fingers in a warm glow, Desmond's anger began to dissipate, replaced by a glimmer of hope. He looked deep into Cassandra's eyes and whispered, "I want to try, Cassie."

And with that, a flicker of a smile danced across Cassandra's lips as she pulled Desmond into a tender embrace. "Then let's start again, Desmond."

In that moment, a ray of sunlight seemed to engulf the room, illuminating their renewed resolve.

II

Desmond sat in the interrogation room, his heart pounding like a drummer in a death metal band. The walls closed in around him, suffocating him with their dull grayness. Detective Wallace slid a folder across the table towards him, a knowing smirk on his face.

"Desmond, we have some questions about the murder of Conrad." He leaned in, his eyes drilling into his. Desmond clenched his fists, the truth bubbling inside him like a pot on the verge of boiling over.

"I didn't kill him, Detective. I swear!" He protested, his voice echoing in the sterile room.

"We have a confession, Desmond." He leaned back, his hand tapping the folder. "Your wife, Cassandra, confessed that you killed Conrad."

"What?" Desmond gasped, feeling like he had been slapped across the face with a wet fish. "Cassandra? But... we're a happy couple! I don't believe my wife would make up such an awful accusation."

Detective Wallace sighed, his eyes showing a hint of sympathy. "Look, Desmond, things aren't always what they seem. Maybe there's something you don't know about your wife."

Desmond shook his head, his mind racing to find an explanation. "No, there must be a mistake! You have to let me call my lawyer!"

Detective Wallace nodded, stepping out of the room to grant his request. Panic surged through Desmond as he frantically dialed his lawyer's number. This was like a chapter from a bad crime novel, and he was stuck in the middle, desperate for answers.

Just as he finished dialing, the door burst open, revealing a frazzled-looking Cassandra. "Des! Oh baby, they told me you confessed!" she cried, throwing herself into his arms.

Desmond held her close, confusion swirling in his mind like a tornado. "Cassandra... what's going on?"

"I don't know, Desmond! They were trying to turn me against you!" she sobbed, her tears soaking into his shirt.

As the door creaked open again, Detective Wallace and the lawyer stepped into the room. The detective's face was a mix of frustration and bewilderment as Desmond's lawyer held up a piece of paper triumphantly.

"Are you ready to charge my client," his lawyer asked, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "If you have no charge against him, I suggest you let him go."

Cassandra and Desmond blinked in unison, their mouths hanging open like hungry goldfish. In that moment, Detective Wallace gestured to the door signalizing that they are free to go.

III

Desmond stood in front of the bathroom mirror, gripping his toothbrush tightly as he stared at his own reflection. Guilt ravaged his conscience, consuming him from the inside out. He had killed Conrad - that contentious friend of his who never missed an opportunity to sleep with his wife. Conrad had been arrogant and insufferable, but did he really deserve to die?

Cassandra stepped into the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her damp body. She couldn't help but notice the look of torment on Desmond's face. "What's wrong, dear?" she asked, concern strapping her voice.

Desmond turned to face her, his eyes filled with regret. "Cassie, I can't keep this secret any longer. I need to confess to the police," he uttered, his voice trembling.

Cassandra's heart raced, panic flickering in her eyes. "No, Desmond! You can't! Think about our children, think about what will happen to them if we both end up in jail!" she pleaded.

Desmond sighed, torn between his need for redemption and his love for his family. "But Cassie, I-I killed a man. A part of me feels responsible for Conrad's death."

Cassandra stepped closer, gripping his hands tightly. "Desmond, accidents happen, and sometimes justice is best served by letting things be. Our family, our children, they need us more than the police need to hear your confession."

Desmond hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. His love for Cassandra battled fiercely with his own need for atonement. Could he really leave this crime unpunished?

As if reading his turmoil, Cassandra leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "Desmond," she whispered seductively, "let's make the most of this second chance. I promise you, we'll find a way to make things right."

Desmond's heart skipped a beat, the weight of his guilt momentarily forgotten in the face of his wife's enchanting allure. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. The bathroom soon filled with their feverish sobs and gasping breaths.

In that moment, they made a silent vow to protect their family at any cost, whatever it took to keep their children safe. The confession would remain unsaid, buried beneath the facade of a perfect family. As they clung to each other, a newfound determination took root, binding them together stronger than ever before.  

IV

Desmond stumbled into the canteen at Gregory's office, reeking of alcohol and desperately trying to maintain his balance. His delivery items were precariously balanced in his hands, threatening to spill out at any moment. Gregory glanced up from his lunch, his eyes widening as he took in his sorry state.

"Desmond!" he hissed, looking around to make sure no one else had noticed. "You're drunk!"

Desmond blinked at him, his vision swimming. "Gregory, my man," he slurred, "I need you to understand. Please, don't report me to your boss."

Gregory's face hardened, and he leaned in closer. "This is unacceptable, Desmond. This... is pushing it."

Desmond plopped down in the seat opposite him, his head spinning. "You gotta believe me, Gregory," he pleaded. "I've got issues with my wife, you know? She's been on my case all morning, nagging about our anniversary."

Gregory sighed heavily, shaking his head. "That doesn't excuse getting drunk on the job, Desmond. You have responsibilities."

Desmond reached out and grabbed Gregory's hand, desperation clear in his voice. "Please, Gregory. Don't report me. I can't afford to lose my job. My family needs this."

Gregory stared at him for a moment, his eyes softening. "Fine," he relented, pulling his hand away gently. "But you owe me, Desmond. You owe me big time."

Desmond grinned, relief washing over him. "You can count on it, my friend."

As he stumbled out of the canteen, sobering up just a little, Desmond vowed to make it up to Gregory somehow.

V

Desmond took a sip of his whiskey, trying to drown out the guilt that swirled inside him. The dimly lit bar was filled with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses, but they resonated hollowly in his ears. He was lost in a sea of regrets, lost in the memory of the very moment when he snuffed out Conrad's life.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Winfred making his way toward him. Winfred, Conrad's brother. Desmond's heart raced, his palms grew clammy. What did Winfred want? Did he know what had happened? The room seemed to close in on Desmond, suffocating him.

Before he knew it, Winfred had plopped himself down opposite Desmond, fixing him with a steady gaze. There was an intensity in Winfred's eyes that made Desmond's throat run dry.

"What happened to Conrad?" Winfred asked, with a hint of anger strapping his words.

Desmond's mind raced, searching for a believable story. He couldn't tell the truth, of course. He couldn't reveal the damning secret he had buried beneath layers of lies.

"He he had an accident," Desmond stammered, a fake sorrow creeping into his voice. "A tragic accident. I... I don't know how it happened."

Winfred's brow furrowed, suspicion inscribed across his face. "An accident? That's all you have to say? You expect me to believe that?"

Desmond's heart hammered against his chest as he desperately tried to convince Winfred, painting a vivid picture of a mundane mishap, using artful words to obscure the truth. But Winfred wasn't buying it. His eyes held a glimmer of determination, fueled by the need for justice.

"You're lying," Winfred growled. "I know there's something more to this. I won't rest until I find out the truth."

Desmond's heart dropped, his carefully constructed façade crumbling under Winfred's scrutiny. Panic surged through him, mingling with the bitter taste of guilt. He couldn't let Winfred uncover the truth, couldn't let his secret destroy what was left of his shattered life.