The Edge of Sanity (16 page)

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Authors: Sheryl Browne

BOOK: The Edge of Sanity
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‘You smell nice,’ he said, his mouth twisting into a lewd smile as he pressed his face to Jo’s neck.

****

Daniel scrambled into his shirt, his heart hammering against his chest. Had Jo had some kind of a breakdown? No, she’d sounded calm, considered almost. Something was seriously wrong. But
what,
that she wouldn’t say? Or couldn’t? Oh, sweet fucking Jesus. Daniel’s blood ran cold. There was someone there, in the house. She was on her own, thanks to him, and some mad bastard had broken in.

Forcing his feet into his half-laced trainers, he clutched up his key, banged out of his room, then half-sprinted, half stumbled down the stairs. Scanning the noticeboard above the payphone, he angrily cursed himself for not having had the courage to get back behind the wheel before …
this
!
Christ!
Where were the taxi service cards? He slammed his fist against the wall, scanned the noticeboard again, and his eyes fell on a faded blue-white card tucked in the corner. Relieved, he jabbed out the number, waited an hour-long minute for someone to pick up, only to be told it would be a forty minute wait.

Daniel raked his hand through his hair, feeling sick to his soul as he jabbed out 99 on his mobile, and then hesitated.
Shit.
What would the police do? Send a patrol car? Ring the house to check out his story? No. They’d treat it seriously, proceed with caution. Wouldn’t they?

They
had
to.

But what if some screwball psychopath was holding a knife to Jo’s throat, while he stood here uselessly debating? The police turn up and … Jesus, no! Daniel swallowed hard.

There
was
someone there, he knew it.

And whoever it was wanted him.

Pocketing his mobile, he raced towards the front door wondering whether to flag someone down, hesitated for a split-second in the hallway, and then hammered on John’s lower-floor door.

‘I need your car,’ he said, when John squeaked it open.

John eyed him warily. ‘What for?’

‘John, please. I …’ Daniel sucked in a breath. ‘John, I don’t have time for this. Please, just trust me. I need to borrow your car.’

‘Yeah, right.’ John shook his head. ‘And if I had a girlfriend, I’d lend you her as well. You must be joking, mate.’ He made to close the door.

Daniel blocked it. ‘John …’ He eyed the man levelly. ‘My wife’s in trouble. Please? I’m desperate.’

John arched an eyebrow. ‘What kind of trouble?’

‘Bloody hell! I don’t know! Serious trouble! Now, will you just give me the keys?’

John scratched his head. ‘I’ll drive you.’ He sighed, blinking bloodshot eyes and turning to lumber slowly inside.

Oh, for Pete’s
… The guy was so drunk he couldn’t drive a nail home, let alone a car. ‘Forget it,’ Daniel said, turning away. ‘I’ll find another way.’

‘I said I’d drive you,’ John called after him. ‘Just hold your horses.’

Daniel turned back. ‘John, you’re three sheets to the wind. You can’t walk in a straight line. If you want to help, just give me the goddamn keys.’

John came back to the door. ‘I thought you said you didn’t drive?’ He squinted at Daniel suspiciously.

‘I said I didn’t have a car, John. Makes driving a bit difficult. And, right now, I need one.’

John hesitated, searching Daniel’s eyes. ‘All right. All right.’ He reluctantly dropped the keys into Daniel’s hand. ‘Just make sure you look after her.’

Relief flooded through Daniel. ‘I will,’ he assured him, almost out of the building. ‘Cheers, John. I owe you one.’

‘Several, mate. Love of my life, that car is, y’know.’

****

Fifteen minutes at most, Daniel told himself, trying hard to keep his mind on the time it would take him to reach Hadbury from Worcester, rather than the process of actually getting there. He hadn’t considered, never even imagined getting in the driving seat again, except in his nightmares, which left him petrified.

The rain was relentless, bouncing bullet-like off the pavement and soaking his shirt through to his skin as he ran to the car. He wiped a hand over his face, attempted to unlock the car door—and dropped the keys.

For fuck’s sake, just do it! Cursing himself, he retrieved the keys from the gutter, fumbled the door open, and threw himself inside.

Do it, he repeated. Don’t think. Just drive. Shakily, he located the ignition and started the engine. Okay. Good. He’d managed that bit. Now all he had to do was concentrate. He took a deep breath, feeling as if his chest was about to explode, rammed the gear-stick into first and floored the accelerator.

****

Charlie was mortally wounded. She’d drawn blood. Actual blood. He dragged his hand across his cheek and examined it. One minute she was standing there, looking as if she was desperate for it—happily obliged he would have, too, had he not been wired up like a telegraph pole on amphetamines and coke—and she’d grabbed hold of his hair and nearly scratched his bleedin’ eyes out.

Charlie was as perplexed as he was annoyed. He’s got the gun, she plays hard to get? She’d got some bottle, he had to give her that. Standing on the other side of the room, she was now, spitting like an alley cat, her big green eyes holding up a challenge.

Charlie quite liked a challenge.

‘Come one step closer and you
are
going to have to shoot me!’ The woman screamed. ‘I’d rather be dead. You absolute …
bastard!

‘Shut the fuck up,’ Charlie snarled, swiftly skirting the bed.

He couldn’t shoot her, of course, not yet. But one thing’s for sure, he was going to have to shut her up, or someone might hear, and that’d scupper his plans, no messing.

‘You might well
rather be dead,
’ he mimicked, clutching her face, his fingers digging hard into her cheeks. ‘And dead you will be, if you don’t zip it. But while you’re busy thinking about yourself,’ he snarled, his face close to hers, ‘you might like to spare a thought for your darling daughter.’

Her eyes shot wide. Pupils like saucers, Charlie thought, mildly amused.

‘I see I have your attention.’ He smiled. ‘Now, I’m going to let you go. And when I do, you do
not
move a muscle. Got it?’

That’s knocked the fight out of her he thought, pleased when she nodded.

Charlie loosened his grip, a snarl twisting his lips.

The woman felt for the wall behind her. ‘Kayla?’ she murmured, disbelieving.

‘Got it in one.’ Charlie grinned, and stepped back. ‘Course, you’ve only got the one
now
, haven’t you? And you wouldn’t want to be responsible for
her
death, would you?’

Charlie watched satisfied as the colour drained from her face. Pale and pretty she looked. Very interesting. Especially now he’d shut her noise up. Couldn’t have achieved such an instant response if he’d slapped her again, which he’d felt inclined to do, her having marred his good looks.

Charlie wiped his forearm across his bloodied cheek, and sauntered off.

He’d just let her mull that over for a while, see if it didn’t make her a touch less aggressive.

He could feel her cat’s eyes following him as he strolled leisurely around the bedroom, peering in wardrobes and drawers. Casually, he plucked her underwear from the chair. Held it high. Gave her an insinuating glance and a smirk.

‘Is she …?’ She hesitated. ‘Kayla … Is she all right?’

‘As well as can be expected.’ Charlie shrugged, idly flicking a piece of fluff from his shirt. His gun propped on his shoulder, he turned to eye the woman squarely. ‘And if you want her to stay that way you’d better stop pissing about. Got it?’

She nodded slowly, and he watched any thought of resistance evaporate. Any hope that he might take what he wanted and then leave, he watched fade away.

‘Good.’ Charlie smiled, his eyes eating her up. ‘Because, for information, sweetheart, I only do death excruciatingly slowly.’ He aimed the gun, meaningfully belly level. ‘So get over there and sit,
very
quietly.’

****

Daniel screeched to a halt at the hairpin bend, a flashback hitting him, hard. With gritty determination, he tried to drive through it, though he could taste the petrol fumes thick on the air.

See the oncoming truck.

Feel the impact.

The car hitting head on, his arm instinctively outstretched, trying to stop her thrust forwards.

Failing.

He’d come, at last, face-to-face with it, his unremitting nightmare. But he couldn’t go any further. Past the exact point in the road where …

Damn it!
He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, slowed his rapid breathing and reversed sharply. Cursing his inadequacy, he took a detour, to arrive one mile further on, and still one long mile from home.

****

Charlie made sure the house was secure. Couldn’t believe they’d actually left the back door unlocked. Someone really ought to warn them about the danger of intruders, he thought, shaking his head as he sauntered back towards the stairs.

He’d decided to come back down and wait in the hall. Didn’t want to get caught with his trousers down, so to speak. Shame he wasn’t up to the job really. It would have given him a bit of a buzz, seeing the husband’s face when he arrived home to find his missus had had a good seeing to and his daughter was on the missing list. Make sure the spineless wuss knew Charlie meant business.

Perhaps he should have a crack at her after all. She might have been spitting obscenities at him, but she was definitely more his league than the slappers he usually had it away with. Nah, that would be plain daft at this stage of play. Charlie was pleased that his plan had panned out thus far, given he’d had so little time to organise things. The husband had no idea he was here. Knew nothing about Charlie knowing all about his little stash … correction …
huge
stash of cash. Good job he hadn’t let on to wifey about the daughter sooner. She might not have been quite so cool on the phone if he’d had to use that information to persuade her.

Yes, it was all goin’ nicely to plan. There’d be time enough later to play with wifey. Charlie smiled happily and trotted back upstairs, to where the wife was waiting, which she would be, patiently, right where he’d left her. One of the husband’s belts saw to that. Handy things those brass headboards.

‘All locked up,’ Charlie said, swaggering cheerfully into the bedroom. ‘Safe as houses.’ He winked and strolled over to the bed.

‘Now then, where were we?’ His eyes travelled over the woman. Looked good in bondage, she did. Dead sexy. Tying her up had been a precautionary measure, just in case she got it into her head to hide behind the door and bash his bloody brains in with the toilet brush or something. Wouldn’t put it past her. Had fire in her eyes, this one did.

But my, didn’t she look inviting.

He trailed his hand over her cheek, and played with her hair.

Just teasing though, wondering how long it would take for the fire to turn to fear.

Now then, to untie her or not to untie her? Wouldn’t be able to have her meet the husband at the door with a gun pressed to her pretty head if he didn’t. On the other hand, she’d looked so fragile and vulnerable when he’d walked into the room just now. Be a nice little surprise for hubby that.

He’d leave her tied, he decided, and amuse himself awhile.

****

Daniel slowed the car in the lane, glimpsing the bedroom light through the gap in the trees. No surprise there. Lights on the blink? Jo being fazed by the fuse box? About as likely as snow in June. She’d been forced to make that call. Daniel knew it with absolute certainty. He also knew she’d been trying to warn him. There was someone, maybe more than one, there with her.

So what the hell did he do now? Park the car and creep up to the house in the hope of gaining entry without alerting them? No. Whoever it was, they were obviously expecting him. And they were holding Jo. His blundering in not knowing how many they were, or where they …

Daniel stopped in his deliberations, swallowing back a hard lump in his throat as it occurred to him to wonder … Why
was
the only visible light, the one in the bedroom?
Christ!
Fear clutching at Daniel’s heart, he rammed his foot down, swung the car through the gates and skidded to a halt, full beams bouncing off the lifeless lounge window, and right outside the open front door.

****

Perfect timing, Charlie thought, positioning himself far enough back not to get a face full of door, should the bloke fancy himself as Bruce Willis.

He’d been reconsidering his options with the missus, all that untamed hostility giving him a serious hard-on, when he’d clocked the headlights breaking through the trees, way before the hot-headed husband revved the engine and charged to the rescue.

He’d obviously cottoned on. And judging by the speed the idiot had screeched up the drive, he was either stupid, walking right into it, or he cared an awful lot about the little lady upstairs. That was a plus. One Charlie hadn’t been banking on. His daughter Charlie guessed the bloke cared for—and he’d better, if he wanted her back in one piece, but the wife?

From what the daughter had told him about the state of their marriage, Charlie hadn’t been too sure about that.

He obviously did still care for her though. And that was definitely in Charlie’s favour. Almost made up for the fact that he hadn’t had time to become better acquainted with the woman. No hurries though. Everything comes to those who wait.

Come on, sunshine. He watched the poor sod walk towards the door. Come to Charlie.

****

Daniel guessed he was being watched. He took a slow breath, started counting, and walked on.

He braced himself once inside the front door, hearing the click a second before the barrel of the gun brushed his temple.

‘Glad you could join us.’ Someone stepped out of the shadows. ‘Do come in. We’ve been expecting you.’ Whoever it was manoeuvred behind Daniel to give him a vicious shove further in.

Daniel righted himself in the hall, immediately attempting to face his assailant.

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