Look Behind You

by Sibel Hodge

  I just didn’t know then that coffin would be mine.

  I couldn’t tell anyone about my suspicions. Liam is a good actor in company. He’s got the perfect husband routine down to a fine art. It was my word against his, and no one would believe me if I told them he’d tampered with my drugs, as I’ve found out since.

  I waited for the right opportunity. When Liam told me he was going to Scotland, I knew it had to be then. He couldn’t stop me. I’d take the essentials for a few days. Just get out of the house. Flee to Sara’s then find a place of my own that he didn’t know about. I’d have a window of a week while he was away to sort it all out. But again, I played into his hands. He’d make sure he left me for dead, and he’d have a clear alibi for the time I was kidnapped.

  The perfect murder.

  37

  I hear the door creak open and squeeze my eyes closed.

  ‘How can you sleep at a time like this?’ He kicks my foot.

  I open my eyes and stare into the face of a murderer. I don’t point out how ironic his words are, coming from a man who can eat at a time like this.

  He takes a long, shiny kitchen knife from his back pocket and straddles me, his knees on the outside of my hips, his weight on my stomach, pinning me in place so it’s hard to breathe. As he presses the knife to my neck, a smile lights up his eyes. I turn my head to the side, but I can’t get away from the blade against me.

  He pulls down my gag and traces the knife slowly along my skin. It stings like burning fire. Blood dribbles out, tracking a line over my collarbone and down the back of my shoulder.

  ‘Please, don’t do this! Don’t hurt me,’ I whimper.

  ‘I could make this really slow and painful. You’d deserve it.’ He lifts the knife from his handiwork, leans down, and sweeps his tongue along the cut, licking my blood away to taste the very essence of me. ‘It would take hours to die. Cut by agonizing cut.’

  His weight on top of me crushes my lungs. My pulse whooshes behind my eardrums. Beads of clammy, cold sweat break out on my forehead.

  With any luck, I’ll suffocate before he can slice me up piece by piece. And If I’m going to die, then I only have one question for him. ‘How did you know I was leaving?’ I manage to rasp.

  ‘You think you’re so clever, but you’re just stupid. I like to check up on you when you think I’m at work.’ He shakes his head at me, lips pursed together, as if I’m a naughty child. ‘Sometimes I follow you, and you don’t even notice. Sometimes I come home unexpectedly to make sure you’re here when you say you are. I’m a concerned husband who likes to know what his wife gets up to when I’m not with her. Someone has to look out for you, don’t they?’

  I grunt out a laugh then. A brittle, pathetic sound.

  ‘I like to know who you’re talking to and what you’re saying, so I bugged your mobile phone. It’s been bugged for years, and you didn’t even suspect a thing.’ He narrows his eyes. ‘Imagine my surprise when I hear you talking on the phone to Sara, telling her you’d had enough of being my wife and you were going to leave me. And you and that fucking pussy Jordan, plotting how you should get away from me. When all the time I was listening to every single move you made.’

  ‘Bugged?’ I shake my head with disbelief. ‘How could you bug it?’

  ‘It’s easy. I installed a simple software programme that uses the phone’s own microphone to record conversations. It leaves no visible trace on the phone that anyone’s virtually listening in.’

  I think about the conversation with Sara. The one I can now remember. How I spilled out my plans to her. How she told me I could use her place indefinitely, but no, no, I’d said, it would only be for a few days, just until I could find somewhere safe that Liam didn’t know about. I can clearly hear her voice in my head when she told me I should’ve done it sooner. That I should go to the police in case anything happened to me. But what would I tell them, I asked her, when he appeared to the world to be just a concerned and doting husband? They would think I was mad, that the drugs had done some kind of long-lasting damage to my brain, and I couldn’t go back to the psychiatric ward. I just couldn’t. I’d never get out the next time; Liam would make sure of it.

  Liam tumbles off me and lies down at my side on the floor. He slips his arm around my shoulder, crushing me towards him so my head presses on his chest. His heartbeat vibrates against my cheek.

  I can’t stop the tears falling now. I thought I’d given up. Thought I wanted it to all be over, but I don’t. I want to live. To survive. But it’s impossible.

  He’ll never let me go, and I can’t escape.

  ‘Don’t cry, Chloe.’ His voice quivers.

  I think he’s crying, too. But I don’t want to look in his eyes. I don’t want his face to be the last thing I see.

  Instead, I picture Sara and Jordan. Two people who mean a lot to me. Two people who believed me. I wonder what they’ll do when I’m gone. Of course, everyone will believe I was kidnapped then. Dr Traynor, Dr Drew, even Summers and Flynn. But they’ll all think it was the nameless, faceless man who can’t be identified because I couldn’t remember anything. They won’t suspect a thing. And Liam will get away with it.

  Again.

  He gently pushes my hair back from my sweaty, tear-stained face. His hand runs down my swollen cheek, my neck, touching me tenderly.

  ‘How could you kill your child?’ My voice has almost gone now, my throat closed with the fear of waiting to die.

  ‘I couldn’t let it change things between us. It was supposed to be just you and me. I knew you wouldn’t get rid of it, so I did it for you. It was a blessing, you must see that now.’ He wipes away my tears with his thumb. ‘I love you more than anything, darling. I wouldn’t do all this if I didn’t.’ His voice is insanely calm.

  And then it happens.

  Someone bangs hard on the front door. Liam jerks up into a sitting position, wide-eyed and alert.

  ‘Chloe! Are you in there?’ Jordan’s voice from outside. More banging.

  Liam rushes out of the room. From where I’m lying on the bedroom floor, I see him through the doorway, standing at the top of the stairs, his left hand gripping the knife, right hand balling into a fist.

  ‘Help me!’ I yell. ‘Jordan!’

  ‘Chloe!’ Jordan bangs again on the door.

  Liam’s shoulders rise and fall with anger and adrenaline.

  There’s a loud bang and crash from downstairs as Jordan kicks the door in.

  Liam’s back tenses, and he holds the knife in front of him. ‘Come to see your bitch before I kill her, have you, Jordan?’ he snarls.

  I hear heavy footsteps on the stairs, then Jordan’s head and shoulders come into view. Liam waves the knife at Jordan, slashing it through air. Jordan swerves back, narrowly missing the blade. Liam lashes out with his right foot, trying to kick Jordan in the face. Jordan ducks sideways. In one swift move, he grabs underneath Liam’s ankle with one hand and twists the top of his foot round with the other. Unbalanced, Liam topples sideways and falls to the floor against the hallway wall, lands on his left arm. Jordan throws himself on top of Liam, wrestling to try to get the knife away from him. Liam throws punches at Jordan’s face and head with his free hand.

  Breathing hard, I shuffle towards them on my backside, arms tied behind me, ankles still restrained.

  Jordan grips Liam’s left wrist with both hands, trying to gain control of the knife. The blade slices through Jordan’s forearm, and he cries out in pain. Heavy blows rain onto Jordan’s face as Liam pummels him with his right fist.

  I shuffle closer.

  All of Jordan’s weight presses on top of Liam now, struggling to get the knife away from him. Blood pours from Jordan’s wound.

  Fighting for his grip on the knife, Liam clutches the handle with both hands now, jerking it towards Jordan’s throat. With shaking arms and gargled grunts, Jordan manages to turn the direction of the knife so it’s now pointing at Liam’s chest.

  As I reach them, I lie on
my back, ignoring the screaming pain in my arms squashed underneath me. I bring my knees to my chest and kick out at Liam’s head as hard as I can with both feet.

  Everything happens in a split second.

  Liam’s head cracks into the landing wall and bounces back. His eyes roll up into his head. His body slumps lifelessly back and to the side.

  With no resistance from Liam now, all the momentum of Jordan’s weight on top of him forces the knife straight through Liam’s heart.

  38

  I sit in the interview room at the police station with a blanket wrapped round me. The room is hot, but I can’t stop shivering. I clench my jaw tight to stop my teeth chattering.

  It didn’t really hit me straight away. Too much was going on.

  Summers and an armed response team running up the stairs. Jordan being dragged off Liam. Somewhere in the midst of it, me screaming. Cold hands on my shoulder. Voices. Summers untying my wrists and ankles. Jordan pale, breathless, and bleeding. Paramedics and an ambulance. A ride to Accident and Emergency. Jordan’s arm being cleaned and stitched. Doctors questioning me. An examination. My superficial knife wounds cleaned and covered with plasters. Ice on my swollen cheek. Painkillers for the pounding headache. Bruised heels where I kicked Liam’s head so hard.

  A small price to pay under the circumstances. But I feel guilty that Jordan has suffered injuries just for trying save me.

  Summers sits opposite me, Jordan by my side. Just having Jordan here gives me strength and courage.

  ‘Are you sure you’re up to making a statement now?’ Summers asks me gravely.

  Jordan’s already made his, not that it was very long. He didn’t have much to say, except for how he came back from the hospital after seeing his mum and realized I wasn’t back yet. How he thought I must have been packing a lot of my things, because I’d been away for so long, so he drove the Camper to my house to see if he could help me transport everything. How when he arrived, he saw Liam’s car parked in the drive. He was about to knock on the door to make sure I was OK, when he heard me crying out to Liam not to hurt me. How he phoned Summers then kicked in the door before the police arrived, and, well, you know the rest, don’t you?

  ‘I want to get this over with.’ I pick up the Styrofoam cup of strong coffee from the table in front of me. My hands are clumsy and sweating, making me spill some down the blanket as I bring it to my lips and swallow.

  Then I tell him everything. About how things were in the beginning. The slow passage of time when love changed into a dark, controlling obsession. How long it took to see our relationship wasn’t right, wasn’t normal. Liam becoming Jekyll and Hyde. About my breaking point—the baby who made me realize I couldn’t live like that anymore. How that fragile little life finally gave me the determination to get away from him. How I nearly made it the first time, but of course, I’d seriously underestimated Liam.

  I tell Summers how he must’ve given me drugs to start a miscarriage. The depression that followed and the realization I had to leave for my own sanity. How I’d discovered Liam’s affair with Julianne and it confirmed I was making the right decision. I tell him that Liam somehow tampered with the antidepressants. He knew it was only a matter of time before I would leave him, and he couldn’t allow that. He wouldn’t. Then I tell him what I remember now of the evening Liam took me. ‘After I went to the estate agents, I window shopped for some furniture. I was in Nightingale’s, and the salesperson told me about Tom’s Wood Shack. I went there and found a lovely bedside table. I told Tom to reserve it for me, and I’d be back to buy it in the next day or so. Of course, I never returned.’

  ‘So it wasn’t Tom who attacked you, like you told me on the phone?’ Summers’ brows knit together.

  ‘No. That was some kind of false memory I thought was true. Maybe I wanted it to be him so it would all be over. Or maybe because that was the last place I’d been to before I was actually attacked, my brain distorted things.’ I shrug. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘So what happened when you left Tom’s?’

  ‘I was walking back to Sara’s house and suddenly remembered I’d left my passport at my house, and I’d need it for the rental. So I went back home, knowing Liam was still safely away in Scotland. Except he wasn’t there at all. Liam used Jeremy’s driving license as ID to fly back here. They look so similar, you see. He was waiting for me at Sara’s and followed me back to our house.

  ‘I was in the bedroom, getting my ID. I didn’t even hear him come in. The first I was aware of him was when he put his hand over my mouth and grabbed me round the throat. He banged my head against the wall, and I fell to the floor, dazed. Then I felt a sharp prick in my arm when he injected me with some liquid Silepine to make me sleep. I don’t know where he got it. He’s got friends at Ashe Pharma who used to work with him, so maybe he visited them and stole it. Maybe he made it himself. He’s a chemist, after all. But he was clever enough to use the same drug I’d already been prescribed as a sleeping tablet. The next thing I knew was waking up in the bunker, and I’d lost my memory.’

  Jordan takes a deep breath beside me and clenches his jaw.

  ‘I don’t know how long he planned it for, but he thought of every little detail to make people question my sanity and think I was the crazy one.’ I put the now empty cup back on the desk in front of me.

  ‘He’s a psychopath.’ Summers pauses from writing out my statement and looks up at me with a guilty expression.

  ‘There’s something else, though,’ I say.

  ‘What else?’

  ‘I think there’s another woman in that bunker. He told me about his ex-girlfriend called Katya. How she wanted to leave him and he wouldn’t let her.’

  Summers looks up at the ceiling for a second. ‘Shit.’

  I shiver again and rub my arms. ‘I told you there was a bone there. The one I used to scrape out the render around the door. What if it was her?’ I want to vomit then. I want to cry, too. ‘The death of one poor woman was the thing that managed to save my life and let me escape.’

  Jordan reaches for my hand. It’s cold and trembling in his warm one.

  ‘Liam said it’s an old military bunker. It’s not on any maps, so I don’t know where it is, exactly. It’s well hidden, which is why you couldn’t find it before.’

  ‘There are a lot of places like that dotted around the UK,’ Summers says. ‘They’ve been either abandoned or decommissioned and forgotten about over the years. I’ve got a contact in the army who might be able to help with that. They can check through their archives to locate where it is. When we find the place, we’ll need you to come and see if you recognize it.’

  ‘OK.’ I pause for a moment, trying to take in every emotion flooding through me. The sadness, relief, pain, grief, hurt, anger, loss. ‘Will we be charged with Liam’s death?’

  Summers shakes his head. ‘No. It was a clear case of self-defence. It’s not in the Crown Prosecution Service’s interest to try to take this to a trial. Especially not after discovering everything Liam’s done.’ He carries on writing out my statement, and I stare at the clock on the wall, the second hand ticking round. Tick. Tick. Tick.

  Time. That’s something I’ll have a lot of now. Time to think. To go over things again and again in my mind. Time to question if I could’ve done something differently. Time for the nightmares to creep in at the dead of night.

  But I’ll also have time to heal. Eventually time to fall in love again. Time to have another child. Time to be happy.

  I’m alive, and that’s a start.

  I sign the statement in triplicate with a shaky scrawl that looks nothing like my signature.

  ‘Will you be all right?’ Summers asks as he shakes my hand in the doorway.

  I glance at Jordan, who smiles warmly back at me, despite the exhaustion etched on his face and the black eyes, cut lip, and swollen cheek. Even after everything that’s happened, the ground beneath my feet feels solid for the first time in a long time. The air in my lungs is ligh
t. A swell of hope rises deep inside.

  I’ve been given another chance.

  ‘I will be now.’ I take Jordan’s hand and walk away.

  And this time I’m looking straight in front of me.

  About the Author

  Sibel Hodge is an International Bestselling and Award Winning Author. She has 8 cats and 1 husband. In her spare time, she's Wonder Woman! When she's not out saving the world from dastardly demons she writes an eclectic mix of genres.

  Her work has been shortlisted for the Harry Bowling Prize 2008, Highly Commended by the Yeovil Literary Prize 2009, Runner Up in the Chapter One Promotions Novel Comp 2009, nominated Best Novel with Romantic Elements in 2010 by The Romance Reviews, Runner Up in the Best Indie Books of 2012 by Indie Book Bargains, and Winner of Best Children's Book by eFestival of Words 2013. Her novella Trafficked: The Diary of a Sex Slave has been listed as one of the Top 40 Books About Human Rights by Accredited Online Colleges.

  For her latest book releases, giveaways, and gossip, why not sign up to her newsletter at: http://www.sibelhodge.com/contact-followme.php

  Also by Sibel Hodge

  Fiction:

  Butterfly

  Trafficked: The Diary of a Sex Slave

  The See-Through Leopard

  Fashion, Lies, and Murder (Amber Fox Mystery No 1)

  Money, Lies, and Murder (Amber Fox Mystery No 2)

  Voodoo, Lies, and Murder (Amber Fox Mystery No 3)

  Chocolate, Lies, and Murder (Amber Fox Mystery No 4)

  Fourteen Days Later