****
Charlie made sure the house was secure. Couldn’t believe they’d actually left the back door unlocked. Someone really ought to warn them about the danger of intruders, he thought, shaking his head as he sauntered back towards the stairs.
He’d decided to come back down and wait in the hall. Didn’t want to get caught with his trousers down, so to speak. Shame he wasn’t up to the job really. It would have given him a bit of a buzz, seeing the husband’s face when he arrived home to find his missus had had a good seeing to and his daughter was on the missing list. Make sure the spineless wuss knew Charlie meant business.
Perhaps he should have a crack at her after all. She might have been spitting obscenities at him, but she was definitely more his league than the slappers he usually had it away with. Nah, that would be plain daft at this stage of play. Charlie was pleased that his plan had panned out thus far, given he’d had so little time to organise things. The husband had no idea he was here. Knew nothing about Charlie knowing all about his little stash … correction … huge stash of cash. Good job he hadn’t let on to wifey about the daughter sooner. She might not have been quite so cool on the phone if he’d had to use that information to persuade her.
Yes, it was all goin’ nicely to plan. There’d be time enough later to play with wifey. Charlie smiled happily and trotted back upstairs, to where the wife was waiting, which she would be, patiently, right where he’d left her. One of the husband’s belts saw to that. Handy things those brass headboards.
‘All locked up,’ Charlie said, swaggering cheerfully into the bedroom. ‘Safe as houses.’ He winked and strolled over to the bed.
‘Now then, where were we?’ His eyes travelled over the woman. Looked good in bondage, she did. Dead sexy. Tying her up had been a precautionary measure, just in case she got it into her head to hide behind the door and bash his bloody brains in with the toilet brush or something. Wouldn’t put it past her. Had fire in her eyes, this one did.
But my, didn’t she look inviting.
He trailed his hand over her cheek, and played with her hair.
Just teasing though, wondering how long it would take for the fire to turn to fear.
Now then, to untie her or not to untie her? Wouldn’t be able to have her meet the husband at the door with a gun pressed to her pretty head if he didn’t. On the other hand, she’d looked so fragile and vulnerable when he’d walked into the room just now. Be a nice little surprise for hubby that.
He’d leave her tied, he decided, and amuse himself awhile.
****
Daniel slowed the car in the lane, glimpsing the bedroom light through the gap in the trees. No surprise there. Lights on the blink? Jo being fazed by the fuse box? About as likely as snow in June. She’d been forced to make that call. Daniel knew it with absolute certainty. He also knew she’d been trying to warn him. There was someone, maybe more than one, there with her.
So what the hell did he do now? Park the car and creep up to the house in the hope of gaining entry without alerting them? No. Whoever it was, they were obviously expecting him. And they were holding Jo. His blundering in not knowing how many they were, or where they …
Daniel stopped in his deliberations, swallowing back a hard lump in his throat as it occurred to him to wonder … Why was the only visible light, the one in the bedroom? Christ! Fear clutching at Daniel’s heart, he rammed his foot down, swung the car through the gates and skidded to a halt, full beams bouncing off the lifeless lounge window, and right outside the open front door.
****
Perfect timing, Charlie thought, positioning himself far enough back not to get a face full of door, should the bloke fancy himself as Bruce Willis.
He’d been reconsidering his options with the missus, all that untamed hostility giving him a serious hard-on, when he’d clocked the headlights breaking through the trees, way before the hot-headed husband revved the engine and charged to the rescue.
He’d obviously cottoned on. And judging by the speed the idiot had screeched up the drive, he was either stupid, walking right into it, or he cared an awful lot about the little lady upstairs. That was a plus. One Charlie hadn’t been banking on. His daughter Charlie guessed the bloke cared for—and he’d better, if he wanted her back in one piece, but the wife?
From what the daughter had told him about the state of their marriage, Charlie hadn’t been too sure about that.
He obviously did still care for her though. And that was definitely in Charlie’s favour. Almost made up for the fact that he hadn’t had time to become better acquainted with the woman. No hurries though. Everything comes to those who wait.
Come on, sunshine. He watched the poor sod walk towards the door. Come to Charlie.
****
Daniel guessed he was being watched. He took a slow breath, started counting, and walked on.
He braced himself once inside the front door, hearing the click a second before the barrel of the gun brushed his temple.
‘Glad you could join us.’ Someone stepped out of the shadows. ‘Do come in. We’ve been expecting you.’ Whoever it was manoeuvred behind Daniel to give him a vicious shove further in.
Daniel righted himself in the hall, immediately attempting to face his assailant.
‘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, stay!’
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 co
urse. 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?’
The Edge of Sanity Page 13
