by West, Sam
Yeah, well, what the hell else do you expect him to do? Rush in and tackle Edward to the ground? This isn’t the movies…
Hazel did as she was bid. Her heart slammed against her ribcage and she could barely unzip the pocket she was shaking so badly. Just as Edward had said, her trembling fingers touched a roll of tape.
On numb legs, she made her way over to Ryan. He remained sitting where he was and stared up at her, his expression unreadable.
Not unreadable. Blank.
Oh God, Ryan, would you please do something?
It would appear that Ryan’s objections were limited to that one feeble protest from the sofa and she resisted the urge to shake him and shout in his face to bloody well do something.
“Very good, Hazel,” Edward continued. “Ryan, I would like you to lie on your front on the sofa with your hands behind your back. Your girlfriend is going to secure you in place.”
Ryan didn’t move, and continued to stare up at Hazel with that same, blank expression.
Not so much of a smart mouth now, are you, you useless son of a bitch.
She stared beseechingly down at him, silently pleading with him with big, doleful eyes. Almost imperceptibly, he shrugged.
“If I do, do you promise not to kill me?” he asked in a tremulous voice.
Inside, Hazel seethed. What a fucking coward he was. Obviously he didn’t give a shit what happened to her and Megan, as long as he was okay. She’d had no idea he was such a selfish prick.
“Yes, Ryan. If you do as I say, no one will get hurt. I just want to make a little movie, that’s all.”
Without another word of protest, Ryan stretched out on his stomach on the sofa with his hands behind his back.
Hazel’s toes curled in shame on her boyfriend’s behalf. Slowly, she turned round to squarely face Edward.
“Hazel? What do you think you’re doing?” Edward said slowly, as if sensing the change in her. “Tie up your boyfriend.”
“No.”
Edward stared at her for a moment, a slow smile cracking open his intense face.
“No? What are you going to do, Hazel? Charge me?”
Am I?
Her thoughts were jumbled, suddenly moving too fast and confusing her. Her lips were dry and her heart was beginning to ache with the incessant racing. Every muscle in her body was wound tight. Dimly, she was aware she was in the grip of a massive adrenalin rush.
And then she lunged forward, covering the short distance that separated them in a matter of seconds.
“Hazel!” Ryan cried out from behind her, but she barely heard him.
Even as she did it, she knew it was a mistake. Everything happened at the speed of light, flashes of colour and movement played out to the backdrop of the ringing in her ears.
Edward whipped the knife round to Megan’s hand and, holding it steady, sliced her little finger clean away from her hand before Hazel reached them. The severed digit fell to the floor in a spray of blood. For some horrid reason, Hazel was reminded of a sausage tumbling off a plate.
Megan let out an ear-piercing scream that halted Hazel in her tracks. She looked about ready to collapse; her face was red and her eyes rolled back in her head. Edward had a tight grip on her though, preventing her from falling to the floor. Once more, the knife was pressed against her throat and his other arm was wound tightly round her waist.
“Now look what you made me do,” Edward said over the girl’s screaming. “That was really fucking stupid now, wasn’t it?”
Megan’s blood-curdling cries gave way to more of a whimper, probably due to the knife pressed into her neck.
“For God’s sake, Hazel, we have to do what he says. He’ll kill Megan if we don’t,” Ryan said. “And then he’ll kill us.”
“You gutless fucker,” she said softly.
Hazel usually didn’t swear, especially not in front of her boyfriend, yet alone at him.
Make that ex-boyfriend, she thought bitterly.
She looked down at the severed finger and the sight of it left her feeling strangely detached. All she could think about was how much of a spineless shit Ryan was.
And how she was going to claw out Edward’s eyes as soon as she got the chance.
“You heard your boyfriend, sweetheart,” Edward said. “Now, I’ll ask you nicely one more time, would you please go and tie him up? And when we’ve done that, the four of us are going to play a little game. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it, it’s a game my dad used to play. It’s called, ‘how much do you love your spouse?’ Okay, so none of you are married, but I’ve adapted the game for my own purposes. He did invent this game over twenty years ago and I figured it was due for an update.”
His gaze flicked from Hazel’s eyes down to the discarded tape at his feet, then up to her eyes again. Not wanting to anger him further at that precise moment, she took a step towards him and bent over to pick it up.
“Good girl. Before you do it, hand me the tape first, would you? Probably best that Megan here doesn’t bleed to death before we even get to start the game.”
His words sent a chill through her, and in that moment, she got it. She knew with certainty that he planned to kill them when he was done with whatever sick ‘game’ he wanted to play. That he was going to have his fun with them, and then discard them.
Ryan, however, seemed oblivious. Or just chose to ignore the obvious. Whatever. Whichever way, she had fallen out of love with him in the ten minutes since she had opened the door to Edward-God-Damn-Sullivan.
“Come on, Hazel, just get on with it,” Ryan said from over on the sofa, where he was lying on his front with his hands behind his back, waiting.
Robotically, she handed over the roll of thick, silver tape, silently watching him as he proceeded to wind it round and round the stump of Megan’s right hand, then securing it tightly against the side of her hand.
“Should stop the bleeding,” he said, the handle of the knife clamped between his teeth.
She looked at her friend, who was as floppy as a ragdoll in his arms. And she looked at the knife.
I could make a grab for it, while he’s busy…
But she didn’t. Now wasn’t the time to make her move, she’d wind up getting them all killed.
When he was done he chucked her the roll of electrical tape, which she numbly caught. On trembling legs she made her way over to her boyfriend, who lay there waiting for her.
“Start with the ankles, then work your way up,” Edward said helpfully.
Hazel pressed the edge of the tape against one ankle and gave it a hard tug, the rip of the tape suddenly a sinister sound that made her feel sick to the stomach.
“No cheating, now. Make sure it’s nice and tight.”
Megan’s incessant sobbing turned into more of a high-pitched wail.
“Get off me,” she squealed between hitching sobs and cries.
What the, she thought, snapping her head round. Megan was no longer upright, but on her back with Edward straddling her thighs.
The bastard was hacking through her white ruffle blouse with the knife. He had shoved something in her mouth, something white and lacy which went some way to muffling the screams.
Her knickers, she realised in horror when she saw that Megan’s black pencil skirt was rucked up around her waist, revealing bare flesh and the most neatly trimmed pussy she had ever seen outside of smut on the internet.
“Stop it,” Hazel cried, but Edward either didn’t hear or didn’t give a shit. He slapped Megan hard across the face, hard enough to make her head snap sideways and her torso give a funny looking jerk, like she had been electrocuted. Then he did the same to the other cheek.
The blows to the face appeared to have the desired effect, for Megan no longer screamed. Instead, she made the most awful, muffled kind of mewling noise into the make-shift gag. Edward looked up from his job of slicing open her blouse:
“You’d better get on with tying up your boyfriend. That’s if you don’t want Megan to lose any more parts of her anatomy.”
She felt lightheaded and strange as she concentrated on the job at hand. Ryan didn’t resist, in fact he worked with her, subtly adjusting the positions he lay in so she was better able to tie him up. His compliance sickened her. Ryan was almost twice as wide as Edward thanks to a vigorous gym routine, but apparently beneath all that brawn he was a cowardly baby.
Hazel worked quickly, first his ankles, then his wrists. When she was satisfied he was trussed up good and tight, she straightened up and turned round to face Edward.
“Good girl. Well done.”
She longed to claw at his smug expression, to tear her fingernails across his snide little half-smile. Instead she just stood there, panting slightly in a mix of anger and terror, apprehensively waiting for the next instalment of the nightmare to be revealed.
Megan looked out of it. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her body seemed slack. She lay on her back with Edward straddling her thighs, her arms and legs sprawled. Hazel took in the sight of her split open blouse and the ample breasts which spilled out of the torn bra. She wore her skirt like a belt, and Hazel felt fresh tears prickle behind her eyes. This could only end badly. For all of them…
“Tell me, Hazel,” Edward began, his brown eyes sparkling with mirth that was born of pure evil, “how much do you love your boyfriend?”
Hazel glanced behind her at Ryan, who still lay on his stomach with his head turned conveniently away from them.
“Why do you ask that?” she said carefully, choosing to bide her time.
“I’m the one that asks the fucking questions, Hazel, you’d do well to remember that.” He reached down to trace the tip of the knife over Megan’s breast. The pink nipple puckered, and Hazel winched when he pressed the blade of the knife more firmly against the sensitive bud. “Megan is relying on you to answer.”
Hazel stared at him, frantically going over her limited options. After a moment’s hesitation, she spoke. “I did love him.”
Edward cocked an eyebrow, and under normal circumstances Hazel would have thought it made him look cool and ironic. “You did love him? Please explain.”
Hazel was painfully aware of the knife against Megan’s nipple, so much so that it was like the damn thing was pressed against her own throat.
“Since you set foot into our home, Edward, I can honestly say that everything I thought I knew about anything has been irreversibly altered.”
He stared at her blankly for a moment and inside she cringed. She was being a smart-mouth and now Megan was going to pay the price…
She breathed a sigh of relief when a slow smile spread across his face.
“Easy to tell you’re the English undergrad. Okay, so I accept that I’ve completely fucked up your little life in the space of five minutes, but how do you feel about Ryan?”
Instinctively, she went with the honest answer. She felt sure that if she lied, she would somehow fuck up his game and make it so much worse for them all.
Worse? How can it get any worse than this?
“I think I’m just mad at Ryan right now. I can’t believe what a coward he’s being.”
The back of Ryan’s broad shoulders trembled slightly and it took her a second to realise that he was actually crying.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled soggily into the back of the sofa.
Hazel was unmoved. In fact, his tears only served to harden her heart further towards him.
“I’m glad you feel that way Hazel, because I have a feeling you’re going to hate him even more in the space of the next few minutes.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
She tried to keep her facial expression neutral – showing weakness at this stage would not help her cause, she felt sure of it.
“Here, chuck me the tape over, would you?”
Hazel glanced down at her hand and saw she was clutching the tape so hard her knuckles had turned white. She had forgotten she was holding it.
“Sometime today would be nice.”
Fleetingly, she thought about lobbing it at his head, but instantly dismissed the idea as moronic. So she aimed a gentle throw at his hand which he easily caught.
She watched numbly as he tied up her friend. Unlike Ryan, Megan was on her back. She continued to make those awful whimpering and moaning noises which made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, although they were getting fainter by the second.
Edward worked quickly and methodically, first securing her wrists together at the base of her ribcage which pushed her quivering breasts up and together in big, fleshy mounds. Next, he moved down to her ankles and wound the tape round and round her feet, which were still clad in the black stilettos. For the finishing touch, he tore off a short strip of tape and covered her mouth with it, sealing the knickers inside.
Christ, she could suffocate. She could drown in her own tears and snot…
“There. All done. Now we can get started.” He dismounted Megan and sat cross-legged on the floor next to her, patting the space next to him. “Come on, don’t be shy, it’s time to play.”
Hazel went to him. She went to him for the same reason she hadn’t made a bolt for it when Edward was tying up Megan – she didn’t want the blood of her friend on her conscience for the rest of her life. His very nearness made her heart thud in her chest and she sat there stiffly, praying that he wouldn’t close the small gap between them and actually touch her.
“Should we check Ryan’s phone?” he said conversationally, pulling out the mobile from his pocket. “Mate, what’s your code?”
Ryan hesitated before mumbling the four digit code that would unlock his phone. A smirk played on his lips as he scrolled through the mobile, the knife casually dangling from his fingers.
“My, my, you have been a naughty boy, haven’t you Ryan?”
“Hazel, I’m so sorry,” Ryan choked out, his face still turned away from them.
Edward began to read his texts aloud: “You’re so fucking hot, I am going to fuck you so hard this afternoon.”
Hazel’s mind physically jerked, and when she looked down at her hands which were meekly clasped in her lap, she discovered she was trembling.
He never sent that text to me….
Then who?
“From the look on your face, I’d say that ‘Steve’ isn’t Ryan’s pet-name for you,” Edward said, seeming to know exactly what was going through her mind.
For a millisecond, she wondered if Ryan was having it away with his best mate Steve, and she almost smiled at the absurd thought.
Then she glanced at her bound friend on the floor, and in that moment she just knew. When her and Megan’s eyes locked, the truth of it rushed at her full force.
You’ve always known though, haven’t you? Deep down, you’ve always known…
Edward saw where she was looking and smiled.
“Silly Ryan,” Edward chided. “So disrespectful, and right under your girlfriend’s nose. Although I can’t say I’m surprised, I’ve seen the way they carry on together at the student bar when you’re not there, Hazel. Still, must be true what they say, the other half is always the last to know. Why on earth would you keep all the texts?” he called out to Ryan. “You must be really into her, huh? Get this Hazel, they’re having a right old laugh at your expense. Hmmm, let’s see,” he said thoughtfully, scrolling down the phone’s screen. “Ryan said, we’ve got the place to ourselves this afternoon, Sweasel’s got a lecture and is going to stay on in the library. And Steve replies: Sweet. My pussy is so wet just thinking about it, and Ryan says…”
“Enough,” Hazel said, perversely more angry at Edward at that moment for doing his best to mess with her head.
“Don’t you want to know why they call you Sweasel? That’s a pretty funny name, right? I’m damn sure I’d want to know why. In fact…” Edward got to his feet and strode over to Ryan. “I really want to know.”
“No, no, no,” Hazel said, rocking slightly in her sitting position. “Please don’t hurt him.”
�
��But he deserves it. Jesus Christ, he’s fucking around behind your back and calling you names. Are you really telling me that that’s alright?”
No, it wasn’t alright. But at the same time, staring death in the face had a way of prioritising one’s thoughts. She didn’t want to die. Ryan’s infidelity was only a dim hurt in the back of her mind. She watched helplessly as he grabbed Ryan’s belt at the base of his spine, raising up his waist so that he formed a ‘V’ shape on the sofa. Ryan began to protest but he seemed to think better of it and the objections turned into feeble moans.
“Ryan?” Edward said in a too-loud voice like he was talking to a retarded and deaf child. “Why do you call your girlfriend Sweazel?”
Megan moaned into her gag a little, drawing Hazel’s attention. She still looked out of it, but it was as if the question had stirred something in the still-functioning part of her brain.
Hazel’s gaze jerked back to Ryan when Edward slapped her boyfriend on the bottom.
“Answer the question, dick-face.”
“Because su-su-sometimes, sometimes…”
“Yes? Spit it out, man.”
“Su-sometimes, sh-she look like, she looks like…”
“What, for fuck’s sake?”
“She looks like a weasel,” Ryan finished through snot and tears.
Edward let go of the seat of his jeans and he flopped onto his stomach, sobbing.
“Well, now we know,” Edward said smugly. “Don’t you feel better for getting it off your chest?”
Apparently, Ryan didn’t. His big body convulsed slightly with his uncontrollable crying. Hazel was grateful to be spared the sight of his red, soggy face as it was pressed once more into the back of the sofa.
Edward sauntered back over to Hazel where she remained frozen in place next to Megan, but not before he took a quick drag of the spliff that still smouldered in the ashtray on the coffee-table next to the sofa. She couldn’t help but flinch when he crouched down next to her and pressed his finger under her chin, tilting back her face so that their eyes locked.
“You don’t look much like a weasel to me, Hazel. In fact, I’ve always found you rather beautiful.”
His words turned her stomach to lead and she could think of nothing to say in reply. The hand under her chin still held the knife; she could feel the handle of it brushing against the sensitive skin of her throat which trembled with the wild pulse beneath it.
