Down Came the Rain (NOW FREE!)

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Warning: This story is a New Adult psychological mystery/thriller. Some of the content may be considered mature or disturbing, and there are scenes that include sexual abuse, mild drug use, and other sexual situations. If you're easily offended, please proceed with caution. Don't say I didn't warn you!   

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''Sing the song I taught you."

"But I'm scared."

"Sing the song and you won't be afraid."

"Where's Jonathon? Is he safe?"

"Shhh. No more questions. Now sing the song like a good little girl."

"The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout ..."

Chapter 1

A sinking feeling weighed down Hudson Caldwell's chest; a feeling she knew all too well. Time to tell her secrets, to let someone help her. She'd had plenty of practice with that over the years. Still, it didn't make opening up any easier.

What if they didn't believe her? Or worse—what if they thought she'd lost her mind? There'd been a time, many years before, when she had entombed herself in a world of inconsistency. But this was different. This was a matter of life and death.

Or was it?

"Open 311, how may I direct your call?" a gruff female voice mumbled into the phone.

Her breath stalled. The woman on the opposite end of her cell sounded sturdy—agile and secure. Someone who wasn't afraid of anything.

Someone unlike herself.

For the hundredth time, Hudson wondered if she was doing the right thing. She swallowed hard, trying to relieve the drought that had invaded her throat. Her gaze shifted toward her long-time friend for support. With a nod of her head, Annie mouthed the words "go ahead". She studied Hudson from the couch and toyed with the silver bracelet clinging to her left wrist.

Somewhere in the distance a car slammed on its brakes. Hudson cringed as the wheels screeched against the pavement. "I'd like to report a crime," she began. "Well, not a crime, exactly. Or not yet anyway."

"Excuse me, ma'am," the voice replied, a dose of agitation creeping into her tone. "Is this an emergency? Do you need me to connect you with the police department?"

Ringing phones and stilted conversation monopolized the background. The operator must be swamped with calls from all over the Chicago area, phoning the information center with a myriad of needs. For a moment, Hudson debated hanging up. But if she did that, nothing would get resolved.

"No. No, it's not an emergency," she stammered, trying to ease the tightness in her stomach. "It's more of an ongoing problem." She paused, afraid of what the lady might say. More than anything, she needed to make them believe her. "I think I'm being followed."

There. She'd said it. No taking it back.

"You're being followed?" the operator repeated. The pecking sound of a keyboard accompanied her words. "Where is your location?"

Hudson shook her head, her dark blonde waves tumbling over spaghetti-strapped shoulders. "I'm sorry. I'm not being followed at this exact moment." She hesitated again, hoping she didn't sound like a lunatic. "Someone's been following me in general. Like—on a daily basis."

"So, you're not being followed at this time?"

"Yes. That's correct."

The operator released a muffled sigh. "Where do you live, ma'am?"