by Liz Bower
“So you didn’t go to uni?”
His voice was eerily calm and quieter than normal. I shook my head.
“So you lied to me? Left me for no good reason when I needed you.”
My eyes widened and I bit down on my lip, wondering if I’d somehow made things worse. “I didn’t leave you. How could I when I didn’t know you?”
He took a step closer, and when his fingers clenched into a fist I grabbed hold of the shelf behind me, running my fingers along it trying to find something heavier than a book to protect myself with. He didn’t answer me except for a hard laugh that came out more like a snort. As he stepped towards me again, I looked at Dan. Really looked at him for the first time, beyond the attraction I’d felt for him. Beneath the stormy blue eyes, I saw a hardness. How had I not noticed that before? The ice cold beneath the beauty. He kept advancing on me, and I flinched instinctively.
He grabbed at my throat, fingers wrapping around tightly as my eyes widened. Uselessly, I struggled against his hold, tried to pry his hand from around my neck. My fingers scrabbled against his taught forearm. His muscles bunched and a vein bulged prominently, but he was far too strong for me. His hand squeezed, the pressure not quite enough to stop my breath. I didn’t understand. Why was he doing this?
As he squeezed harder, I realised that there was something seriously wrong. This was a Dan I didn’t know. My lungs began to burn, panic rising in my stomach when I couldn’t take a breath.
And those blue eyes were the last thing I saw as the darkness took me under.
***
All he could think was why would she lie to him? His fingers tightened around her neck as her blue eyes widened and tried to plead with him.
But she’d wrecked his life. Just walked out for no good reason. He told himself over the years that she had needed to do what she wanted with her life, but then she would come back to him eventually. But she’d walked away from him for no reason and without a second thought for him.
Her eyelids fluttered closed and she slumped against his hold around her neck. He pushed his hips against her. Panicked, he pressed a finger against her throat, searching for a pulse. The faint beat beneath his fingers slowed his own heart rate.
He pushed his arm between her and the bookshelf and bent over to wrap the other behind her knees, lifting her easily. Her head fell against his chest and he buried his nose in her hair. It didn’t smell the same as he remembered. As he hugged her closer to his chest, nothing seemed right anymore.
He climbed the stairs, each step heavy as he wondered where they went from there. At the top of the stairs he hesitated, not sure where to go. The idea of sharing a bed with his Josephine again was tempting, but the woman in his arms didn’t feel quite like his Josephine anymore.
Instead, he headed for the spare bedroom and laid her down on the bed. Her hair sprawled across the white pillowcase, and he could see bruises starting to develop in the shape of his fingers around her neck. He brushed her hair back from her forehead as a wave of guilt hit him. He’d never laid a finger on a woman before. Never dreamed he could hurt Josephine. But she’d pushed him too far. Wouldn’t even acknowledge their time together.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered against her hair.
As he watched her chest lightly rise and fall, he gripped the back of his neck. Why did she have to lie to him? This wasn’t how he had planned their first night together again to be.
He leaned over and tugged off her shoes before pulling the covers over her chest. He kissed her forehead and straightened.
It would be fine. He’d let her sleep it off and they could start over in the morning. She would apologise and he would forgive her. He always did. And then they could start again and put the past behind them. She was back where she belonged. With him. That was all that mattered.
They were together again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I opened my eyes, but the light made my head throb and I squinted them half shut. Where am I? How did I get here? The room smelled funny. It reminded me of when I forgot to hang out my clothes and they dried in the washing basket.
I tried to see through the semi-darkness to make out shapes, anything that might look familiar. Anything that might explain where I was. It was useless though, and only made my head hurt more. And my neck hurt when I turned my head to look around.
The only thing I could see was the outline of the window where the light seeped in through the gap between the curtains. It was still daylight, then. I hadn’t been out of it that long. Unless of course I’d lost an entire night, which was possible. That thought made my breaths turn choppy, panic creeping in as I realised I had no idea where I was or how long I’d been unconscious.
As the door swung open, light poured into the room, and I squeezed my eyes shut when my head throbbed harder. The sound of something being set down filled the room and I cracked one eye open. Squinting against the sudden brightness, all I could see was the silhouette of someone standing in the doorway. As the door swung closed, I realised it was a man.
As the light dimmed, my breath caught. I recognised him.
Dan.
He moved back to the door with a glance over his shoulder in my direction.
I closed my eyes and held my breath, events of earlier filtering back through the fog in my head. Dan. His hands around my throat. Those cold blue eyes. The door closed and the lock slid back into place. He’d locked me in. I was trapped.
My heart rate spiked.
I was trapped in that room.
I coughed as the pain in my throat penetrated my panic, and I rubbed a hand gently across my tender throat. The room was in darkness again, and I was alone. I took a deep breath and was relieved that I could still do such a simple task.
Dan. He was the reason I was there. Had he been trying to kill me or just scare me? If it was the latter, then he had succeeded. I had been terrified. Still was. What did he even want with me?
He said something right before I passed out, but it had made no sense. Think. My head started to throb again and joined the burning sensation in my throat. So thirsty. When was the last time I’d had something to drink? Something to eat? My stomach lurched in protest at the thought of food. It was the last thing I wanted right then.
Slowly I climbed out of bed, then carefully made my way to the outline of the window.
“Shit.” I hopped on one foot and cradled the stubbed toe of the other in my hands.
I hobbled over to the window and grasped hold of the rough material. I yanked the curtains open and the room flooded with light. Before me was an open field, nothing but green grass until a row of dense trees. Not helpful. I had no idea where I was except that it wasn’t that far from Gartdale.
As I turned away from the window, I let my gaze wander around the room, unremarkable with bare pale green walls. There was a single metal bed and a wooden chest of drawers with a tray on top. I leaned against the windowsill, letting out a deep breath.
I was on the second floor, so the window wasn’t an option. My eyes stung as frustration washed over me. I roughly rubbed the heels of my hands over my eyes to stop the tears from falling. They were no use, except to make my head hurt more.
I sank to the floor and rested my head on my knees as I closed my eyes. I remembered the drive down the country lanes. The cottage in the middle of nowhere. Dan questioning me about university. The smash of breaking glass against the wall. The photo.
Dan thought we had known each other for years. That was who the girl reminded me of. The girl had the same brown hair and my blue eyes, but one thing was missing. I lifted a finger to the freckle above my lip, stroking it absently. Clearly whoever that girl was, Dan thought I was her.
I let my head fall back against the wall at the thought because knowing that didn’t help me. Dan had me locked up in a bedroom, and I had no idea how to get out.
I wandered over to the bed, climbed in, and pulled the covers up to my waist. Twisted my fingers around them as I tried to wor
k out how long I had been there. Wondered what exactly Dan planned to do to me. My mind wandered over the few conversations we’d had at the office to see if I’d missed the signs.
So he had called me Josephine. Not that odd seeing as it was my full name. But how would he have known that? Nobody at work used my full name. Was that who the girl in the photo was? If it was, where was she?
I kept torturing myself with images of the last time I’d seen Marco. Would that literally be the last time I saw him? His face laced with pain that I had put there.
But I had been too scared about what the sight of Marco with Lily might mean. Too scared that it might not go to plan and I’d end up getting hurt. Turned out I’d been scared of the wrong things. I would give anything to have that chance right now. It seemed a whole lot less scary than this situation.
As the door opened, I jumped, pulling the covers farther up as though they could protect me from Dan.
“Hey, babe.”
Babe? When did I become babe?
He strolled over to the bed and perched on the edge of the mattress. “I spoke to my mum earlier. She’s coming round for dinner tomorrow evening. It will be just like the old days.”
His gaze swept over me, lingering on my lips before meeting my gaze again. He didn’t say anything, just waited for me to speak. But what the hell was I supposed to say to that? ‘Yeah, looking forward to it’? ‘I have such fond memories of those days too’? Except I didn’t have those memories because we didn’t know each other. Instead, I just nodded.
He grinned at me, that small nod obviously the right answer.
“I thought we could watch a film tonight. I have Dirty Dancing even though we’ve watched it a thousand times together already.” He let out a little chuckle and his cheeks flushed. He reached out, his fingers wrapping around my leg beneath the covers. “Do you remember the first time we watched it?”
My eyes widened and I fought the urge to kick his hand away. What the hell was he remembering?
When I didn’t answer, he gave my leg a squeeze.
“I’ll see you downstairs,” he said as he stood. His gaze swept over me again before he turned and left the room. That time he left the door open.
I twisted the covers between my fingers and stared at the empty doorway Dan had just left through. With no idea what to do, I kicked the covers off me and climbed out of bed anyway. Staying in bed wasn’t going to solve the situation.
I padded over to the window, but the only thing I could make out in the fading light was the black shape of the trees in the distance. Leaning my forehead against the cold window pane, I closed my eyes for a moment.
Why the hell was this happening to me?
I opened my eyes as I pushed away from the window and then turned towards the door. Somehow I had to try and make Dan see reason. To see reality. But if he thought I was his ex, where was the real woman? I tried to shove the dark thoughts of where she might be away and headed downstairs.
Dan was sprawled out on one side of the sofa, a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table next to a frosty glass of beer. I bit back a hysterical laugh and took a seat on the armchair as far away from him as possible. He looked over at me with a frown, marring what I once thought of as his beautiful face.
“I won’t bite.”
My teeth scraped across my lip as I sucked it into my mouth and sank my teeth into it. I had no idea what he was capable of.
“What’s wrong?”
Oh my God. How can he honestly ask me that when he has me locked up in his house? Releasing my lip, I said, “I want to go home.” My voice cracked on the last word and I bit the inside of my cheek, refusing to break down in front of him.
“Why? You used to ask me to watch this with you all the time. Come on. We can cuddle on the couch just like we used to.”
I glanced over my shoulder towards the front door, but the keyhole was empty. The door would still be locked, I assumed. I looked back at Dan who was staring at me expectantly. “I just want to go home.”
His nostrils flared as his eyebrows bunched together. “Why?”
The question was torn from him that time. I didn’t want to make him angrier, but I was not about to play out a fantasy that was only in his head. My gaze flicked around the room but there was no way I could escape before Dan would be able to stop me. I looked down at my lap and clasped my hands together.
“I want to go home. Have a shower and change my clothes. My parents will be worried too. They were expecting me home today.” When he didn’t answer, I glanced up at him.
He got to his feet, and hope bloomed inside me. He raised his hand, holding it out to me, and I stared at his open palm.
“Come on. I still have some of your old clothes you left at my mum’s house. You can have a shower while I get them for you.”
A chill ran through me at his words. Who kept an ex’s clothes for that long? And why did he have them if I was supposed to have left them at his mum’s house?
I refused to take his hand but followed him upstairs. He led me to the bathroom, and I watched with my arms folded across my chest as he got me a towel. As soon as he closed the door behind him, I ran to the door and slid the bolt across it. I was sure he could knock the door down if he tried hard enough, but that bolt let me breathe a little easier.
Taking a deep breath, I leaned my back against the door and slowly slid down it. When my bum hit the floor, I wrapped my arms around my knees and let the tears fall. I didn’t know how long I sat there before I realised that could be my only chance to escape.
With that thought spurring me on, I pushed myself to my feet. The window. At that point, I didn’t care if it was on the second floor. In three strides I was across the small room.
I flicked the lock that was halfway up the window and tugged on the handle at the bottom. But it wouldn’t budge. I stood on my tiptoes and ran a finger along the seam of the two frames. A thick layer of paint ran across the two pieces of wood and I let my head fall against the glass. It had been painted shut. There was no chance I could escape that way.
I had no idea what to do. Could see no way out. If I stalled in there for long enough, would someone come to my rescue? Had my parents reported me missing yet?
I switched the shower on and shed the sweaty clothes I had worn to travel back in. The car journey already seemed like a lifetime ago. I let the hot spray wash over my shoulders as I hung my head, my tears mingling with the water until it ran cold.
I wrapped the towel around me as I stepped out of the shower. When I reached the door, I pressed my ear against it. There was nothing but silence, so I unlocked the door and cracked it open enough to peer through the gap and see that I was alone.
The hallway was dimly lit from the light seeping up the stairs. I hurried back to the bedroom and quietly closed the door behind me. A pile of clothes had been left on the chest of drawers. I pulled on a pair of jeans that were a little loose and a T-shirt that was too baggy. I ran my fingers through my tangled hair, pulling it back to tie it out of the way. After a quick glance over my shoulder to check the door was still closed, I stepped over to the window. It opened the same way as the bathroom one, so I ran my finger across the join of the two frames. Disappointment flooded through me as I felt the thick layer of paint sealing them together.
The thought that I was stuck there overwhelmed me and I sank down on the edge of the bed. How long would he keep me locked up for? Forever? With no way out that I could see, I dropped my head to the mattress and curled up on my side.
As my tears fell again I rolled over, pulling the covers over me at the same time. My family wasn’t particularly religious, but I sent up a prayer anyway.
Hoping someone would hear it. Hoping someone would find me.
Before it was too late.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I woke the next morning to the sound of the radio drifting in through the open bedroom door. Sunlight lit up the green curtains, lighting the room with a green haze. I rolled over to loo
k through the open door and listened to the sounds carrying up the stairs.
Cupboards opened and closed, the hum of something electrical, followed by running water. Dan’s mum was coming round. Would she help me? Or would she think I was Dan’s Josephine too?
I threw the covers back and climbed out of bed, taking a step towards the door, but then an urge to stay in this room hit me. To bar the door so Dan couldn’t get in. Except that wouldn’t help me get out of this mess. Get out of there.
I pulled the curtains aside so I could peek outside, but just the same deserted field waited for me. I let the curtains fall back and crept towards the stairs.
He was whistling along to the radio. At least one of us is in a good mood. And didn’t that just piss me off. He was down there obliviously happy while I’d cried myself to sleep.
Fuck this. I’m getting out of here if it’s the last thing I do.
At the bottom of the stairs, I paused to check whether he’d heard me come down or not. When he carried on whistling, I tiptoed over to the door, but the keyhole was still empty. I glanced over my shoulder before slowly trying the handle. Locked. I stepped away from the door, thinking that there must be some way to get myself out there.
Why had I left my handbag in the car? I could have called for help or texted someone. But surely Dan had a phone.
I checked on the coffee table and behind the curtains. No landline. And I assumed if he had a mobile it would be on him. There was no computer, and as I scanned the area I couldn’t see a laptop.
I clasped my hands behind my neck and turned slowly in a circle, surveying the room as my desperation of finding nothing to help me get out of there grew.
Accepting the fact that there was no way for me to get out upstairs, or from the living room, I faced the kitchen doorway. The aroma of coffee hit me, making my stomach churn.
