The Hunted

by Linda Coles

  “Amber?” said Valerie, turning back to her friend. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you alright?”

  “Remember that handsome prick of a guy from the plane I told you about in Bulawayo? He’s dead. Murdered. Look.” Amber passed the phone to her.

  Valerie’s brow furrowed. “Oh my god… Amber!”

  “I know, right? What a horrible way to die.” She shuddered. “But you know what? After what he did to me, I’m kind of glad. Maybe he got his comeuppance. I’ll bet next month’s wages he’s done to others what he did to me, and I’ll also bet no one has ever reported him. Dumb cows like I was.”

  She clicked the screen off, shivering again as the memories flooded back. Valerie wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulders and squeezed.

  “Come on,” she said briskly, “Let’s get you to the car then you can tell me all about it.”

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  Ruth sat watching Amanda finish off the last of the sweet and sour pork like it was going to be her last meal for a while. Little blobs of orange-coloured sauce were still evident on the plate, the only sign that a meal had been there recently. Amanda licked the stickiness from her lips and flopped back with a hearty sigh.

  “I’m stuffed! That was just what the doctor ordered. And Wong’s is the best for sweet and sour pork balls. No one else comes close. And twice in the space of a few of days!”

  “Does that feel better now? Only you didn’t really come up for air once you started—did you not get fed today?” Ruth smirked approvingly.

  “I did, but you know what it’s like when you’re tired. You do eat more, carbs particularly. You hanker after heavier food, and this damn case is keeping me awake at night. I’m barely functioning without the aid of coffee as it is. And I’ve started hitting the chocolate bars from the vending machine.”

  “Ouch! You’ll need to accompany me running, then, or you’ll become a bit of a piglet,” said Ruth, playfully making a fat blown-out face, puffing her cheeks out to demonstrate her point.

  “Like hell,” scoffed Amanda. “Running is not my thing, thanks all the same.”

  “Talking of coffee, I met up with Stephanie today. She texted me, needed a girly chat. It seems Aaron has been up to no good.”

  That made Amanda sit up straight in her chair. “Oh? In what way?”

  “In the ‘I’ve-been-meeting-up-with-other-women’ way, behind Stephanie’s back. At the cottage. I didn’t quite know what to say when she told me. She just poured it all out. And it was really embarrassing for her the way she did find out.” Ruth told Amanda the whole story, about the secret panel, the builders finding it, and Stephanie watching the distressing DVDs on her own.

  “Oh shit. And what a shit he is! What the hell has he been doing that for? I thought he was a decent one, one of the really nice ones. Just goes to show, you never know what goes on behind closed doors.”

  They sat thoughtful for a moment or two in quiet reflection. On the surface, Aaron and Stephanie had the perfect marriage and family life together.

  “And when’s the dickhead back home?” Amanda spoke first.

  “Friday. She’s desperate to talk to him about it but she wants to do it in person, not long distance while he’s away. She wants to talk face to face, watch his reaction, I guess. Which is fair enough. I’ve told her to call me if she needs to chat again. I don’t want her suffering in silence.”

  “No, absolutely. Does she want to come over, stay a night or two?”

  “I offered, but no.” Ruth picked up her glass of Pinot and drained the last mouthful. “I hope she’s not downing much of this in his absence,” she said, indicating her glass. “She looked like she’d cried all night when I saw her. The rims of her eyes were nearly scarlet.”

  “Well, let’s hope they sort it when he gets home, and be here for her if the shit hits the fan. Not much else we can do, really.” Amanda stood, picked both their plates and cutlery up, and carried them to the dishwasher. She called out to Ruth, who was heading to the lounge. “Need a top-up? There’s only a drop left. May as well finish it off.”

  She finished loading the dishwasher and then picked up the bottle and followed Ruth into the lounge with it anyway. Ruth hated seeing anything wasted, and that included half a glass of wine.

  Chapter Eighty

  The click of his key turning in the door did something to Stephanie’s stomach. Only a few days ago, that click had done something to her heart, but not today. Her nerves were jangling like the small tin pipes of a wind chime. She heard his bag drop to the floor and his footsteps behind her in the kitchen.

  “Mmm, something smells good! Hello, hun,” he said, and turned her around for a kiss. Stephanie offered no resistance, taking the lingering kiss that she always enjoyed, trying to appear normal. She was anything but. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, nuzzling in her neck. “And you smell good too. I’ve missed you.”

  “Me too,” she said, not meeting his eye. She turned back to the stove and stirred the bolognaise sauce as the two boys raced excitedly into the room. It was a welcome distraction for her and she took the opportunity to top up her glass of red and pour one for Aaron.

  Sipping her wine, she watched as Aaron scooped both boys in his arms together, crouched down on his knees, the sound of their excited laughter and joyous chatter tugging at her heart. Whatever happened from this point on, she knew, she had to think of the boys, and keep her own concerns in perspective. She’d spent another restless night thinking it through and come to the conclusion that there was obviously something missing in their marriage that needed fixing: why else would he feel the need to do the things he’d been doing? But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to be soft on him. Not at all: there was a long way to go to sort this mess out and she was going to insist that they have it out, and that he do his part to fix things.

  She handed him his glass and he took a long sip.

  “Why don’t you get changed? Dinner will be ready in fifteen. I thought we’d all eat together early, and when the boys go up, we can have some time to ourselves. I need to talk to you.”

  “That sounds ominous,” he said, smiling brightly and watching to see if she smiled back. She didn’t. She turned her back and concentrated on stirring the sauce again. She was holding herself together, but only just, and doubted she’d be able to eat much of the food she’d been preparing. She’d blame it on a migraine, she decided. Again. Perhaps the wine had been a stupid move after last night, but she knew she couldn’t get through this evening without something to bolster her nerves.

  The familiar sound of his feet climbing the stairs relaxed her. Suddenly they stopped. Would he put two and two together?

  “Wow, this looks great!” she heard him call from upstairs. Then silence. Perhaps he was unpacking his case. Perhaps he was getting changed. Or the penny had dropped – the missing wall. She stood motionless at the stove, listening. She took a full mouthful of wine, nearly draining her glass, and waited. Nothing moved; there was not a sound. She laid out dinner on the table, got the boys seated, and called up to Aaron that it was ready. His footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs, slower than usual. He knew she knew.

  Her stomach flipped over, and as he came through the door, she busied herself with refilling her glass—again. It was only when they were all seated and the boys were chatting away that she chanced a glance his way and noted with some satisfaction he had lost most of his normally healthy tanned colour. She bit back a smile. Let him sit through dinner and chew things over in his head, just like she’d had to these last few days. Whatever his reasons, whatever the story he was now busily concocting by way of an explanation, it had better be good.

  Strangely light-hearted now, she filled a fork with spaghetti and sauce and chewed ravenously, making up for lost time as she’d eaten nothing all week. Across from her, Aaron played with his food like a naughty child. For the first time in days, the start of a small smile played on her lips, just enoug
h for her to notice.

  Chapter Eighty-One

  Stephanie sat in silence on the sofa in the lounge. The boys were safely in their beds listening to the story Aaron was reading them. As she waited for him to finish up and join her, she mulled over for the trillionth time what she was going to say to him, where to start. She hoped that when the time actually came, she could stick to her plan.

  Finally, she heard his footsteps on the stairs. He entered the room with their nearly empty wine glasses and handed hers to her. He slumped down in his chair across from her.

  “So what’s on your mind, hun? What do you want to talk about?”

  Like he doesn’t know. Give me strength, she thought.

  “I want to talk about the secret panel in the old wall, the wall that’s now gone. The workers found a few interesting items behind it, items of yours, I assume.” She kept her voice level.

  “I thought as much. But I can explain.”

  Oh, the cliché of it. “Then please do. I’d love to know all about it.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

  “It’s all over now, if I can just say that first. Valerie and I have been over for a long time, over a year probably, just so you know. And it was only ever a couple of times, just sex, nothing more. And the others were both one-offs. There’s nothing going on now, I can promise you.” He looked her directly in the eyes as he said the last part. The lie was like a knife slicing into her skin.

  “Just sex?” she said, incredulous, “JUST sex?” Though the videos hadn’t shown it, she’d turned it off before it had got to that part, she’d assumed they had ultimately had sex. She’d googled BDSM and learned that not all role plays included the actual act itself, but of course now he’d just admitted that his had. At least he had the decency to bow his head at her pain.

  “And the riding crop?” she continued. “You enjoy that sort of thing, Aaron? Because you’ve never suggested we use anything like that when we are together, not even a tiny bit. I had absolutely no idea. Yet you obviously like it.”

  He kept his face down as she spoke, silent, flinching slightly at the wrath in her voice, playing the submissive role he obviously liked. She hoped it wasn’t turning him on. At last he looked up and met her eye. “I’m so sorry, Steph. I really am.”

  “No! You’re not. You’re just sorry you got found out!” she yelled. “Did you just forget to take them out of the wall or did you plan for the embarrassment of the builders finding them and giving them to me? Rub it in, why don’t you?”

  The look on his face told her he had never planned for her—or anyone else—to find his stash.

  “I don’t know what to say,” he said, staring at the floor again. “I never meant to embarrass you. I should have moved them.”

  “You should have not done it at all, more like!” said Stephanie, incredulous. Anger burned in her eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her face.

  They both fell quiet for a moment, each catching their breath and wondering what to say or do next. Aaron spoke first.

  “But now it’s all out in the open, I have to work on clearing my mess up. Please believe me when I say I’m deeply sorry, Steph. Deeply, deeply sorry.”

  Stephanie let out a long heavy breath as she gained control of her anger and they both sat quietly for a moment longer.

  Calmly, Stephanie said, “I’ve been going out of my head while you’ve been gone, tossing it around, so I’ve had some time to think, and while it’s certainly a big surprise and an issue, we’ve got the boys to think about. I don’t want a house filled with tension and accusations, which will only hurt them; they’re too young to understand. And then there’s the issue of your fetish, for want of a better word, and your need for it. I dare say we can work on that part possibly, it’s too early for me to even think about it much. But answer me this. Do you still love me, still find me sexually attractive, not just love me in a good mother way?” She held her breath. Their eyes locked together.

  “Yes! Yes, I absolutely do, always have done and always will.” The pleading in his eyes told her he was telling the truth now, at least.

  “And you say it was over with Val about a year ago, you’ve not had anything other than a working relationship with her since?”

  “I promise you, no, nothing. Not with anyone but you. That’s the truth.”

  Stephanie got to her feet. “Then you’d better sleep in the spare room tonight, you lying piece of shit.”

  “W-what? What do you mean? I’m telling the truth!”

  “Date stamps on films don’t lie, Aaron. Remember that if you’re going to lie to me about it again. It was only one month ago, Aaron, one sodding month ago, so don’t tell me it’s over.” She spat the last words at him as she left the room and slammed the door hard behind her. Knowing he wouldn’t follow her, she stood on the other side shaking, her hand over her mouth to muffle the sobs.

  She tiptoed up the stairs so as not to wake their sons, went into their bedroom, and flopped down on the quilt, burying her head in her pillow. Then she sobbed her heart out.

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  He sat there stunned. How could he have been so stupid, leaving his toys and DVDs in the house? Why hadn’t he just left them there in the cottage? She hardly ever went up there. He knew why he’d brought them home: he’d wanted to watch them when the house was empty or take them out in his car with his laptop hidden in a rucksack, park in a quiet spot, relive the footage, the experience, over and over again. Who’d have thought his secret panel in the wall would have been found? But it had. And he was going to have to pay the price.

  Muttering to himself as he sat alone in his chair, he berated himself for his stupidity. Why was there never any whiskey in the house when you wanted a glass? He saw his phone vibrate on the coffee table and reached for it. A smile spread slowly across his face: a message from Frankie. It simply said ‘Welcome back to England.’ He sat for a moment with his phone burning a hole in his hand, wondering what to message back. Her timing amused him somewhat.

  Thanks. Long trip but home safe and well. What you up to this weekend?

  The little Messenger bubbles bubbled and he waited for her reply.

  Thought you might be free sometime for that catch-up coffee or a wine. Find the time?

  Something stirred inside him and he smiled at the screen. Frankie certainly was keen.

  I’d love to. Just not sure when I can get away, that’s all. Can you leave it with me until tomorrow?

  After Stephanie’s bombshell, he had to be careful. Besides, he wanted to spend some time with the boys, take them to the park for some kick-about.

  Of course. No rush, and I’ve no plans at all so whenever you’re ready. Be good to see you again!

  She added an emoji blowing a kiss and he blew one back. What the hell, he thought. If I’m in the doghouse, I may as well do what I want. It’s not like anyone is going to be checking in on me at the moment. He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath, shoulders settling a little looser. He’d been surprised at Stephanie’s reaction, couldn’t understand why she’d gone off the way she had and was now upstairs, obviously upset. Crying irritated him somewhat, and he never encouraged the boys to cry, preferring to teach them to be strong, not nurture their weak sides. The only time he ever showed his weak side was when he was being dominated by a sexy woman, but that was different, of course. Then he could be as weak as any man could be.

  With their brief messaging finished, he took the empty wine glasses out to the kitchen, and made sure the house was locked up before heading up to the stairs to bed. As he rounded the corner at the top, he saw the closed bedroom door and his pillow on the floor outside it, waiting for him.

  “Spare room it is, then,” he said under his breath, then picked up his pillow and headed to the guest room. He stripped and climbed in; the bed covers felt cold to his skin. He’d had a tiring week, and he closed his eyes, expecting sleep to come immediately, but after tw
enty minutes of tossing and turning, he knew it was going to be futile. The time zones and the row were messing with his brain.

  The moon shone through the open curtains, and he lay staring at the ceiling, thinking. Was this just a blip or was it going to be something much bigger? Was Stephanie going to blow it out of proportion, or would it all be over by the morning? He hoped the latter, but she’d caught his lie out: Valerie and he were still very much on, never mind finished one month ago. She gave him what he desired, though it didn’t stop him wanting the safe and loving relationship he had with his wife and kids. He just needed the extra spice in his life, and he wasn’t willing to give that part up. No, he’d just have to get better at being discreet; he’d been doing it too long to not have it in his life, now or in the future.

  His mind wandered to Frankie and he wondered what she might be into, a good-looking woman like her, and single too, and getting a tiny bit flirty, although it was early to be reading anything into it. He reached for his phone and re-read her message. Maybe he wanted to read more into it. He tapped a quick one out.

  What are you up to right now?

  Send. A minute or so passed.

  Lying in bed. You?

  Same. On my own. Why had he typed that? he wondered as he waited for her reply. Simple—he’d wanted her to know.

  Oh? How come?

  In the doghouse. Had a bit of a row.

  No one to keep you warm and toasty tonight then. She was definitely flirting with him now.

  No. You offering?

  Don’t think you’d get away with that one. A winking emoji.

  Shame. Could use the company.

  He waited, had he pushed it too far too soon? He hardly knew the woman. It seemed an age before her response came but it was loud and clear.