He’d spat in the sink. Kayla remembered that. She’d wanted a drink of water, and he’d spat in the sink.
Oh, God. A sob racked her body. She choked back another sob. The boat seemed suddenly so much smaller. All four sides breathing in as one, sucking the air from around her. Inside her.
Creaking, splintering, collapsing …
Kayla scrunched herself smaller.
****
‘What you looking at?’ Charlie demanded.
Daniel looked Charlie up and down, and then shrugged slowly.
The implication of which was not lost on Charlie. Got Danny Boy sat on the floor, he had, where he was less intimidating.
Not that Charlie was intimated. Why should he be? The bloke was about the same height as he was. But he was built, Charlie had to admit. Even working out twice a week, when he wasn’t too wasted, Charlie had a long way to go before he boasted biceps that big.
Charlie didn’t like the insinuation in that look. He didn’t much like noticing Daniel’s physique either. Couldn’t abide queers, which Danny Boy could easily be if he was cruising nightclubs at his age. Yeah, a paedo queer, looking for little boys to play with. Made sense to Charlie. Why else would he walk away from a bird as hot as his wife? Blokes with nice setups were usually hiding dirty little secrets behind closed doors, after all. Thinking their money put them above the law.
Probably born with a silver spoon in his mouth and a mummy and daddy who’d patted his head, said, there, there when he was in trouble and promptly bailed him out of it. Yeah, well he could use a little cosseting himself, Charlie decided. The only soddin’ spoons around when he’d been a kid were used for brewin’ up on by half the uncles in situ. About time Danny Boy was parted with a few privileges. Might not think so much of himself then.
Unbelievable. He was doing it again. Looking. And not very respectfully either. The bloke should remember who was in control around here, Charlie thought, peeved, and strolled over to give Daniel a reminder with the butt of the gun.
‘Do not get smart, Danny Boy,’ he warned him.
His wife flinched, but caught Daniel’s eye and heeded his silent warning to stay put.
‘You move when I say so.’ Charlie glared at Daniel. ‘You speak when I tell you to, and you look at me, when I want you to? Got it?’
Charlie waited.
Daniel nodded slowly, keeping his eyes averted. And holding his breath, Charlie noted. Waiting for pain to subside, he reckoned. Good. Needed to show a bit more respect, Danny did.
‘Don’t forget it.’ Charlie gave him another nudge, and then paced the length of the room, frustrated, and way too hot. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt and paced back. Come on, think man. He tried to get his brain into gear, chewing on his thumbnail as he walked the length of the room again, in between Daniel and his wife.
He’d been right, the smart-mouthed husband. No way could he keep whatsername pliable for two days and three nights. He just didn’t have enough stuff. Shit! That was just plain negligent. Why hadn’t he thought about that before?
Maybe he should bring her to the house? That was the plan in the first place, after all, to hold daughter and wifey, whilst hubby went dutifully off to make the withdrawal.
He’d been sidetracked by the open boat as they’d crossed the yard. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Tie the daughter up. Hold her to ransom. Make bloody sure they did cough up.
Didn’t seem such a great idea now though, he had to admit. Despite topping up, he had a bad case of the jitters. And he was knackered. Oh, he’d stay alert. Make sure Danny Boy didn’t get a chance to sneak up on him. The coke would make sure of that.
Charlie doubted he could relax enough to piss right now, anyway, but two days and three nights without sleep? Uh-uh, no way would he be able to keep going for that long, watching hubby and wifey, who were watching him with devious eyes, plotting and conniving.
He could tie them up, of course. Yeah, and then hand-feed them and who knew what else. Come to think of it, Charlie groped for another amphetamine from his top pocket and tossed it in his mouth, he was starving. Hadn’t had so much as a morsel to eat since …
‘Oh, man.’ He ground to a halt in the middle of the room, kneading a painful knot in the back of his neck. ‘What is that racket?’
The woman glanced nervously at Daniel, who shook his head perplexed.
‘What racket?’ she asked, obviously aware that her husband would incur Charlie’s wrath if he so much as murmured.
‘That noise.’ Charlie waved the gun towards the en-suite. ‘It’s doing my bloody head in.’
‘The extractor fan,’ she answered, disbelieving.
‘Well, turn it off!’ Charlie barked, astonished that she wasn’t already half way across the room.
Charlie was agitated. Very agitated. He’d come to a conclusion. And he wasn’t happy with it. He couldn’t watch them for that long, not on his own. And Steve couldn’t help out here if he was babysitting the daughter. Assuming the wimp was capable of even that. Gone all proprietorial, Steve had. Guarding her virtue, as if she had any. Of course, a thought occurred, Steve might be protecting his own interests. Might be giving her one right now.
‘Do you want a taste of what he just had!?’ Charlie snapped suddenly at Jo, whose eyes had been boring holes in his back everywhere he went, even before she’d run to turn off the fan.
The woman shook her head quickly, glancing at Daniel, who glanced demonstratively down. ‘No,’ she said quietly, eyes firm on her lap. ‘Sorry.’
More like it. Charlie nodded approvingly. A bit of bloody courtesy, was that too much to ask?
Charlie picked up his thoughts where he’d left off. Very good, Steve. Pretty clever, for someone as thick as a plank. Well, no way. They were in this together, and it was share and share alike as far Charlie was concerned. Giving Steve the easy job seemed sensible, him being last in the queue when they handed out brains, but handing him an easy lay? No way.
Charlie sat in the chair, gun wedged between his knees, eyeing his captives more calmly now the speed had brought his panic down to a controllable level. He would rather have snorted, hit the spot quicker, but how was he supposed to do that, as well as keep one eye on them and hold the gun.
Yeah, Steve’s assistance would be helpful, no doubt about it. Charlie reached a decision. And what’s one more prisoner when you’ve already got two?
‘You,’ he said, leisurely exhaling, ‘Danny Boy.’
Daniel stopped studying his hands and—leisurely—met Charlie’s gaze.
‘Those tugs … barges.’
‘Narrow boats.’ Daniel corrected him.
‘Don’t get smart,’ Charlie warned.
Daniel nodded.
‘Do they go?’
‘With diesel, yes,’ Daniel answered.
Charlie narrowed his eyes. ‘Are you having a laugh, or what?’
‘No.’ Daniel sighed. ‘They haven’t been turned around in a month or more, that’s all.’ He dragged a hand wearily over his neck. If he didn’t straighten up soon, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to. And the psycho would home in on his weak spot like a vulture to fresh meat.
‘Turned around?’ Charlie frowned.
‘We’ve been … running the business down,’ Daniel said, as if the parasite didn’t already know it. ‘The boats need servicing: diesel, water, gas …’ Daniel stopped. ‘Why?’ he asked, although he was one step ahead.
Where better to keep a vigilant eye on two people? Three, maybe? Realisation kicked him hard in the gut. Christ, that’s where she was. Fifty yards away!
Daniel met Charlie’s mocking gaze full on. ‘Bastard,’ he uttered.
Charlie smiled languidly. ‘Yep, that’s me.’ He got to his feet, tossed his spliff end on the carpet and ground it out.
‘Can I help it if my mother spread her legs for the price of a sherry?’ He shrugged blamelessly. ‘Doesn’t give you the right to go around calling me names though, does it?’
Charlie’s smile froze. ‘I just might get offended. Get my drift, Daniel?’
‘Yes,’ Daniel nodded slowly, ‘I think I probably do.’
‘Good,’ Charlie said, almost jovially. ‘You,’ he motioned to Jo, ‘get what you need, and make it snappy.’
Jo got to her feet, looking helplessly at Daniel.
‘Clothes, Jo,’ Daniel explained. ‘Enough food for a few days and …’ he hesitated, glancing enquiringly at Charlie ‘ … stuff for Kayla?’
‘Yeah, I suppose so,’ Charlie smiled good-naturedly, his mood obviously buoyed up by the drugs. ‘But hurry it up. I’m starving.’
****
Jo blinked, uncomprehending for a second, then moved fast, pausing only to squeeze Daniel’s shoulder as she passed to the wardrobe.
Pillowcases, she thought, throwing the stuff on the bed and compromising in the absence of the holdall, which Daniel had taken. She should never have let him go.
Never.
Twice he’d asked if she needed him to stay, and every ounce of her had wanted to say yes. To hold him. To tell him to come home, where he should be. But a tiny part of her had been scared that he didn’t want to come home.
To fight anymore. Tear each other apart anymore.
Wasn’t she as guilty as he then, of withholding emotions?
He had come back though. He’d known he was walking into something terrible, and he’d come anyway. He was a good man. An honest, decent man. They should have tried harder. She should have.
Daniel had suffered as much torment as she. Of course he had. How far had she pulled away from him in reality because he didn’t appear to be hurting? He didn’t appear to be hurting now, did he? Jo stole a glance at him, sitting apparently emotionless, determined not to give into the pain he must surely be in.
She wished she could reach out to him. She should have reached out.
Held onto him. Helped him.
They could have got through it, together. They always had. Dammit, they would! Jo clamped her teeth together hard and tried to concentrate, throwing clothes, toiletries and towels into the pillowcases ad-hoc. God, how painfully ridiculous could this get? She was packing a pillowcase to go on holiday with a drugged-up psychopath. And what next? Rub suntan oil into his back?
Get through the moment, Jo, she cautioned herself, yanking drawers open, an involuntary shudder running through her as she caught sight of that merciless creature walking towards her.
‘Very nice,’ Charlie said, suddenly close behind her.
He reached over and hoisted a silk camisole from her underwear drawer. ‘Very nice indeed. You can model it later.’ He smirked, and walked across to dangle the lacy garment in front of Daniel. ‘Can’t she?’
Ignore him, Dan, Jo willed him. Do not give the animal ammunition. He’d use it. Use her, to get to Daniel. The bastard was into power games, it was written all over his face. He was top dog, and was going to make sure Daniel knew it.
Daniel looked from the camisole to Charlie, and then away.
‘What? Don’t tell me it doesn’t do anything for you, Danny, the thought of shagging your wife in this little number?’ Charlie taunted. ‘Does it for me all right. You must be a faggot.’
Charlie stopped and cocked his head to one side. ‘You queer, Daniel? Pretty boy, ain’t you?’ He stroked the tip of the gun down Daniel’s cheek. ‘Did wifey buy some sexy undies to titillate someone else, cos you couldn’t get it up? Hey?’
Daniel studied his hands, expressionless, apart from the tic playing at the corner of his mouth.
‘Hey, Danny? That it? Your wife having someone else in your bed, is she?’ Charlie continued to goad him. ‘Or did she just not want to play with you anymore, because you went and took her little baby away? Huh?’
Daniel winced and visibly paled.
The filthy animal might as well have kicked him in the stomach. Jo looked from Charlie’s vile, grinning face to Daniel, who sat with his eyes fixed firmly on his hands. Hands that were shaking slightly.
Other than that, he still showed no emotion. But he wasn’t an emotional wasteland. He was the same solid as a rock Daniel he’d always been. Would it have helped if he’d gone to pieces, she remembered him asking, when she’d been hurting too much to hear him, to even try to understand.
Daniel might be emotionally flawed, but a man who’d demonstratively shown how much he cared, disobeyed some sick power fiend, to reassure her … Daniel did have feelings. He’d just been scared of letting go. Why, Jo didn’t know.
She knew why he was scared of letting go now, though, of coming down to the same base level as that … thing. Daniel was trying hard to stay in control, for the sake of his family, Jo could see that. And he wouldn’t, if that sadistic animal kept taunting him, provoking him, digging mercilessly at wide-open wounds.
Leave him alone you sad little freak. Jo wanted to spit in his face. ‘Excuse me,’ she said instead, pointing towards the wardrobe, attempting to distract him.
She searched Charlie’s mocking eyes briefly, then, taking Daniel’s cue, made a great show of looking down. ‘Please,’ she added demurely.
Charlie hesitated, looking her over, and then stepped to one side. ‘Bring it,’ he instructed, handing Jo the camisole, a satisfied smirk on his face as he walked away.
Daniel raked his hand through his hair. ‘Leave it, Jo,’ he said quietly.
‘What?’ Charlie swung back around. ‘You got a freakin’ death wish!?’
He was across the floor in two seconds.
‘Don’t!’ Jo screamed.
But Daniel was ready for him this time. He grabbed hold of the gun and held on, long enough to meet Charlie’s startled gaze before shoving it back hard.
Charlie staggered back, momentarily off balance. And Daniel managed to get to his feet before Charlie descended on him, the gun poised to inflict maximum damage.
Jo heard the crack, saw Daniel’s face contort with pain as the blow brought him to his knees. The blow to the side of his head sent him reeling.
‘Stay where you are!’ Charlie aimed the gun, stopping Jo in her tracks. ‘Get up,’ he growled at Daniel, who lay motionless, the carpet turning crimson beneath him.
Chapter Thirteen
Charlie had quite fancied a bacon sandwich, and had the little woman cook, whilst he guzzled a pint of milk and watched Daniel seated at the kitchen table, mopping blood from his eyes, and feeling pig sick, Charlie imagined.
His own fault.
Shouldn’t have laid down the gauntlet, should he? And he had. Danny Boy had challenged his authority from the word go, and Charlie didn’t like it. Thought he was clever, trying to undermine him with his smart-talk.
Well, he’d nipped that in the bud. Danny Boy had nodded meekly, when Charlie had reiterated his request that he keep it shut until requested to do otherwise, and to jump high when Charlie told him to.
Handed his mobile over good as gold, he had, and the car keys. Even coughed up to the car not being his, which, Charlie considered, was rather dense. Presumably, Danny Boy had enough brain left in his head to work out whoever owned it might well send plod in search of it.
In which case, Charlie couldn’t fathom his motives. If he were him, he’d have prayed for the filth to come sniffing around. Still couldn’t quite work Danny Boy out, and that bugged Charlie. He would though. There was plenty of time to bring him down a peg or two. It was possible he relished that prospect more than screwing the wife. Perhaps he’d have her in front of him. That’d crack the stubborn son-of-a-bitch.
He’d leave him be for the moment though. The bloke had obviously had enough.
‘Delicious.’ Charlie wiped sauce from his chin and pushed his plate away. ‘Compliments to the chef,’ he smiled, savouring the taste of his bacon butty and the sweet pleasure of her nervous uncertainty.
Would he backtrack, she was thinking. Had the old man’s impulsive display of aggression caused Charlie to change his mind? Would she see her precious daughter again? It was tragic
, the look on her face. Really tragic.
Charlie wasn’t a man to go back on his word, not that he’d got much choice. When he’d finished his coffee though. No hurries.
****
Jo walked across to the table with coffee for Daniel, and awaited Charlie’s permission.
Charlie nodded at length and Jo handed Daniel the mug. ‘Caffeine.’ She smiled, her fingers brushing Daniel’s.
Daniel offered her a small smile back, touching normality through the insanity.
How long was the psycho going to keep this up, he wondered. He’d made it clear, hadn’t he, that he’d jump through hoops if he told him to. Even hinted the police might pay a visit in search of the car. That being the last thing Daniel wanted. The sick creep was quite content with his face and his habit fed, but what he’d be capable of if the police showed up while he was sky-high, Daniel didn’t dare imagine. The guy’s mood seemed to swing like a pendulum.
What more did he want before he let them see Kayla? If it was blood he’d been after, he’d got that, in bucketfuls.
‘Make sure you bring plenty of caffeine with you,’ Charlie instructed sarcastically, as he scraped his chair back from the table. ‘And move it, okay, before I change my mind.’
****
‘Come on, you have to come out of there sometime.’ Steve tried unsuccessfully to coax Kayla out of the corner of the berth.
‘Suit yourself.’ He sighed, reached a hand out towards the duvet, and Kayla almost shot through the roof.
‘What?!’ Steve fell back on his haunches. ‘Look, darlin’, I’m just trying to help you. Your legs are all blue with the cold. See?’
Kayla threw him a look of pure hatred.
Steve shrugged awkwardly. ‘It’s not forever,’ he said, reaching again for the duvet, and then tucking it carefully over her knees.
Kayla clutched it to her chin.
‘Just until Charlie sorts the dosh out, and then we can all go home.’
Steve studied her from where he squatted by the berth. ‘Not talking, hey? Can’t say I blame … Shit!’ He stopped and scrambled to his feet as there was a distinct clunk at the back of the boat. ‘If that’s a swan, it’s a big mother … Aw, don’t start again.’
The Edge of Sanity Page 15
