The Edge of Sanity (17 page)

‘Don’t even think about it,’ the intruder spat. ‘Turn back around. Now!’

Holding tight to his temper, Daniel turned back, and kept counting.

‘Upstairs.’ He was nudged again. ‘One foot out of place and your wife will be scraping you off the walls for weeks. Got it?’

Daniel stopped counting and breathed out, long and hard. She was alive. The sonofabitch had just confirmed it.

Closing his eyes, Daniel counselled himself to stay calm. Whatever it took, he had to keep a rein on his emotions, stay in control. Get Jo out of this, even if it meant swallowing every ounce of his pride, and getting down on his knees to beg the bastard.

Once Jo was safe, Daniel would kill him. It was clear cut as that.

****

He’s a big bugger, Charlie thought a bit warily, as he followed the man up the stairs. And it was definitely him, the weirdo from the nightclub earlier. Setting his daughter a fine example, wasn’t he, frequenting nightclubs to get stoned out of his brains, or pick up kids, the bloody paedo. The bloke was obviously a loser. Small wonder, whatsername was screwed up.

Confident he’d got the guy’s measure, Charlie dismissed any apprehension he might have had, and gave the guy a jab in the back with the butt of the gun. ‘In there,’ he growled, grabbing a handful of his shirt and pushing him bodily into the bedroom.

Pain sliced through Daniel’s chest. He winced as he stumbled through the door, and then stopped dead. ‘Oh, Jesus … You
bastard
!’ he grated, half-turning.

‘Stay.’ He was ordered bluntly. ‘Or
she
is kebab meat.’

The gun, Daniel reminded himself, breathing hard. The twisted sicko would shoot if he made so much as a move, and Jo would stand no chance, strapped to the headboard like an animal.

Daniel took a step towards her and heard the click of the gun behind him.

‘I said, s
tay
!’

Daniel stopped. ‘Bastard,’ he repeated.

‘You do what I say, when I say. Understand?’

Daniel nodded, his gaze still on Jo.

‘Didn’t hear you.’ He received another short, sharp jab in his shoulder.

‘Yes!’ Daniel gave him what he wanted, every sinew in his body tightening.

‘Good.’ The psycho gave him another jab. ‘Now, turn around, slowly.’

Daniel counted down three, his chest heaving, then turned around—and looked straight into the goading eyes of same drug-dealing lowlife he’d seen earlier. At the club, where he’d searched aimlessly for Kayla, his instincts screaming at him.

‘Walk pretty straight for a bloke who’s wasted, don’t ya?’ the psycho sneered. ‘Charlie. Charlie Roberts at your service,’ he introduced himself. ‘And your daughter’s, of course. But then, I’m guessing you already know that, don’t you? Which would mean that you’d know not to mess with me, yes? That is, if you want to see her with her eyes open again, which I’m assuming you do.’

Pieces of a jigsaw plopped jaggedly into place, a picture emerging— one that tore at Daniel’s heart—and sent his emotions spiralling out of control.

He tried to pull air into his lungs.

Tried hard not to clear the floor between that …
vermin
and him.

He breathed out, slowly.

He’d blow it for Jo and Kayla if he did.

Daniel’s gut twisted. He sucked in another breath and glanced away from Charlie, then back. ‘My wife needs me,’ he said calmly, and then, holding the sick bastard’s gaze meaningfully for a second, he recommenced counting and turned his back.

‘Yeah, right,’ Charlie said, his tone not quite so cocksure as it was. ‘She’s getting on my tits anyway,’ he went on, quickly reinforcing his role as big guy with the gun. ‘Do something with her, before I do. Already been forced to give her a slap, snivelling cow.’

Daniel’s shoulders stiffened.

He walked on, sat down beside Jo, carefully stroked her hair from her face, and scanned her eyes, terrified of what he might find there.

A tumult of emotion is what he saw, quiet dignity, angry defiance, silent pleading—all shot through with sheer terror.

Daniel’s heart cracked in his chest.

He nodded, almost imperceptibly, and tried—somehow—to reassure her with his own eyes. He would kill the bastard. He knew that now, absolutely. The question was how, with
maximum
pain.

Daniel gritted his teeth, holding hard onto his temper as he traced his fingers over the blue-black bruise on Jo’s cheek. ‘We’ll get through this, I promise,’ he whispered, close to her ear, and then set about untying the belt cruelly biting into her wrists.

Bastard
. Daniel’s jaw tensed as he ran his thumbs over the ugly red welts the belt had left on her skin. Cautioning himself not to react, he set Jo’s hands in her lap, carefully refastened her shirt, and then folded his wife gently into his arms.

‘Aw, Christ, give it a rest, mate,’ Charlie muttered from across the room. ‘You’ll be bloody shagging her in a minute.’

Heeding the warning, Jo eased from Daniel’s arms. ‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘I’m okay, Daniel.’

As scared as she was, Jo’s gaze never faltered, and Daniel felt like weeping. The bastard hadn’t raped her.
She
was trying to reassure
him
. He swallowed hard, and loved her more right then than he ever had.

Charlie sighed behind them. ‘How very touching,’ he sneered, walking across to give Daniel a prod with the gun. ‘Over to the chair,’ he ordered. ‘We have business to discuss.’

Ah, business. What kind of
business
had this piece of human flotsam conducted with his daughter? Bile rose in Daniel’s throat.

‘Move it!’ Charlie clutched at the neck of his shirt, twisted it tight, and attempted to shove Daniel towards the chair.

He didn’t budge.

Charlie boggled.

Un-bloody-believable.

The stubborn prat was just sitting there, deliberately disobeying a clear instruction. Flexing his muscles, was he? Trying to show his missus he wasn’t a wimp? Well, he’d better put his freakin’ pride in his pocket a bit quick if he wanted to see daylight again.

‘I said
move
it! Now!’ Charlie pressed the barrel of the gun against the guy’s throat. ‘That muscle enough for you, Danny Boy?’

‘Go, Daniel,’ his wife said urgently, glancing from him to Charlie, then back again. ‘Please.’

‘
Go
,
Daniel
,’ Charlie mimicked in girly tones. ‘As in right now, Daniel!’ he added, deadly serious. ‘Do as the little woman says, and get your arse over there, before I blow your brains out.’

Daniel got to his feet, making eye contact with Charlie and holding it, despite the gun now pressed to his chest.

‘Better,’ Charlie said, relieved, but still wondering how the bloke had the gall to keep eyeballing him. Wasn’t taking him seriously enough, obviously. Big mistake, Danny Boy. Huge. ‘Now sit, Daniel. Over there, in the chair. There’s a good boy.’

Those two getting all touchy-feely made Charlie want to puke. Girly crap. No way was he going to let them sit whispering and plotting. Together, they presented too united a front for Charlie’s liking.

Daniel nodded tightly, and then brushed past Charlie, making shoulder contact. Charlie glanced down at his own shoulder, then back to Daniel, confounded. The bloke was walking
away
from the chair, towards the wardrobe.

Charlie watched goggle-eyed, not quite able to believe it. The bloke was going out of his way to annoy him. Did he
want
his family wiped out, or what?

Crap. What if he did? Charlie furrowed his brow, suddenly seriously worried. Maybe there was an insurance policy. He hadn’t thought of that. Maybe Danny Boy had decided he quite liked the idea of no maintenance payments and a fat insurance payout.

Oh, shit. Was the bloke trying to outwit him? Call his bluff?

Charlie looked on warily, as the man calmly extracted a pair of jeans from the wardrobe shelf, then turned to the bedside cabinet. What was he up to now? Charlie peered around the barrel of his gun, craning his neck to try to see what the hell was going down.

‘Whoa!’ Charlie called as Daniel opened a drawer. ‘What you doin’?’

‘Getting clothes,’ Daniel said, without looking up. ‘I’ll sit down when my wife’s dressed.’

‘No way,’ Charlie growled. ‘Get in the chair, Daniel, or you’re history.’ He aimed the gun higher.

Ignoring him, the man went on to retrieve underwear from the drawer, and then walked back towards his wife, stopping to pick up trainers from under the dresser en route.

Charlie gasped, audibly. ‘You on a suicide mission, or what? You just ain’t paying attention, are you, Danny Boy? Take one more step, just one, and I swear—’

‘On the contrary,’ the guy cut across him. ‘I’m assuming you want my
undivided
attention, though.’

Is he having a laugh? Charlie squinted, perplexed. He’d blow him to Kingdom Come. Decorate the ceiling with the …!

‘You’ll get it.’ Daniel paused to look at him. ‘As soon as my wife is comfortable. She has to use the bathroom.’

Daniel handed the clothes to his wife, then turned back to face Charlie.

‘No fuckin’ way,’ Charlie growled. ‘If she wants to use the toilet, she does it with the door open. Do you think I’m dense, or what?’ He glared at Daniel and went on, growing more agitated by the second. ‘She can get dressed where she is. As for you …’

He wiped a hand over his mouth, so angry he was spitting.

‘ …
you’d
better learn to jump when
I
say jump.’

Charlie strode across the room to motion Daniel away from the woman.

‘Don’t ask why.’ He jabbed the butt off his shotgun hard into Daniel’s ribcage. ‘Ask, how high, got it!?’ he yelled, as Daniel doubled up. ‘Or
she
won’t live long enough to hitch up her knickers.’

A groan escaped Daniel. He stayed where he was, struggling to breathe.

Served him right, thought Charlie. Insolent sod. ‘Stand up,’ he instructed, more quietly.

He waited while Daniel pulled himself upright, and rather patiently, he thought. Then pulled back the gun and gave Daniel another vicious jab, just to make sure he had damn well got it.

‘I trust I now
have
your undivided attention,’ Charlie said tauntingly, as Daniel dropped to his knees.

‘Dan!’ His wife flew across the room before Charlie had a chance to blink, let alone kick him. ‘Daniel, please …’ She crouched in front of Daniel, brushing his hair from his forehead, easing her hand under his arms, trying to help him to his feet. ‘Do as he says, Daniel,’ she implored, pressing her face close to his.

Well, that was more like it. ‘Yeah, Daniel, do like she says,’ Charlie said, somewhat placated. ‘She’s asking nicely. And I
ain’t
about to ask again.’

Placated Charlie might be, but there was no way he was about to keep repeating instructions. He’d had a bellyful of this messing around. Shoot him in the leg, he would if … No, he’d need his legs. The arm then, if the bloke didn’t engage his brain and do as instructed. Like, immediately.

‘Shall we try that again, Daniel?’ Charlie smiled. ‘When you’re ready?’

Charlie’s smile widened as Daniel, obviously labouring to draw breath now, reached for the bed and tried to lever himself up.

‘You bastard,’ his wife uttered.

Charlie’s smiled slipped.

‘He’s hurt!’ She eyeballed him furiously.

Charlie laughed. He should be annoyed, but he was actually amused. What did she think? He was going to burst into tears? ‘You don’t say?’ he drawled sarcastically.

She tried to help Daniel who was clutching his chest, trying to straighten up.

Anybody would think he had shot the bloke. Charlie rolled his eyes.

‘You could have killed him!’ The wife shot Charlie another contemptuous glare as Daniel coughed, then visibly winced. ‘He can’t take that sort of punishment, can’t you see!? He’s only just recovering from broken—’

‘Jo!’ Daniel cut her short.

And winced again, Charlie noticed, genuinely amused now. ‘Broken what?’ he asked, as wifey’s eyes scuttled for the safety of the floor.

‘Not saying, hey? No need.’ Charlie chuckled quietly to himself. His ribs, he’d be willing to bet, judging by the way the bloke was acting. Whoops. Would be a bit sore then, he supposed.

So how did he break them? Some kind of accident, presumably. The one his daughter was yammering on about? Charlie didn’t know and didn’t much care. What he did know was that the lady had dealt him an Ace. Nice one.

‘Chair, Daniel.’ Charlie pointed the way.

At last, Daniel walked towards the chair, too slowly for Charlie’s liking.

‘Oh, man,’ he muttered impatiently. ‘Like, tonight would be good. You know, before your daughter gets the shakes?’

Charlie glanced at wifey, who stared at him uncomprehending, and then with some satisfaction at Daniel, who stopped to shoot him a look of pure hatred. That definitely got the stubborn son-of-a-bitch where it hurt. Knew where he was comin’ from, did Danny Boy.

‘Right, you,’ Charlie motioned his gun towards the woman, ‘sit on the bed. And you,’ he turned his attention to Daniel, ‘sit in the chair and
stay
in it.’

Charlie waited for his audience to be seated. ‘Right, if we’re ready, I’ll begin, shall I? Your daughter, Kayla, is currently
coming down
, as they say.’

Charlie paused to glance at Daniel, who swallowed hard and closed his eyes. Yeah, he’d got the gist all right. Better clarify things for the wife’s benefit though. Been living in a gilded cage, she had, safe in her nice house. Hadn’t got a clue.

‘From a bad trip, unfortunately,’ Charlie went on, deciding to give them a dramatised version, lots of gory detail for them to think on.

‘Freaked out, she did. Man, you should have seen her.’ He shook his head, as if he couldn’t quite believe it himself. ‘Didn’t know what day it was. Swore blind her name was … What was it? Oh, yeah, Emma, that was it. That she’d been buried alive.’

Charlie stopped again, watching with interest as the wife turned a pale shade of white and Danny Boy …