CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
PRESENT
Today, Monday, the ninth of September, is my last day in this room. Now that I know what the kidnappers have asked for, it seems unfathomable that Jethro Hawthorpe will stall any longer.
The abductor told Ned that his father didn’t take their ransom demands seriously at first—which suggests that now, he does. I need to leave before he pays, before I’m released with Ned.
The man comes, I’m ready. I’ve gone over it a hundred times, I know his movements, the way he always puts the tray down in the same place.
“Hey,” I say as he approaches. “How are you today?”
I sense him stoop, my hands are on my knees, the palms upturned. As he places the tray on the floor, I shoot them out and with all my strength, upend it over him. There’s a clatter of bowl and cup, I hear the whispered “Fuck,” I sense him stumble back and I scramble for the fallen tray. It’s in my hands, I leap to my feet, swing it hard, aiming for where I think his head is. There’s an almighty thwack as it connects, a clunk against his goggles. I hear his grunt of pain, I swing again, the force of the blow shuddering up my arms. Another curse, I dart to the right, throw the tray hard in his direction, and run for the door.
I’m almost there, my outstretched fingers are touching it, when a hand locks around my ankle. I stumble, grab hold of the door to stop myself from falling, and kick out with my leg, trying to loosen his hold. His fingers grip my ankle tighter, they’re like iron, I can’t lift my foot from the floor. I kick out with my other foot, feel the mass of his body, and kick harder, again and again and again.
He still won’t let go. I have no choice, I take my hands from the door, bend to pry his fingers from my ankle. But his other hand comes up, he pulls me down, I’m on top of him, his arms a vise around my body. In one quick movement, he flips me onto my back, traps my legs between his thighs, and holds me down with one giant hand on my chest. I open my mouth to scream but he silences me with his other hand, clamping it over my mouth. I twist my body, trying to free myself, trying to move him off me. But I’m powerless against his strength.
Wrenching my mouth from under his hand, I bring my teeth down and bite as hard as I can. He curses again, tries to free his hand. I bite harder, taste his blood, but I don’t let go. He removes the hand from my chest, and my body released, I surge up, still clenching his other hand between my teeth. And then, somehow, he spins me around, he’s crouched behind me now. I feel the heat of his body as he locks me against him with his free arm, and with his fingers, pinches my nose. My lungs tighten, I reflexively open my mouth for air. He pulls his other hand out from between my teeth and clamps it hard over my mouth. With my nose still pinched between his fingers, I can’t breathe.
Images flash through my mind, Lina’s heels scrabbling on the ground, her eyes rolling back in her head as Ned began to suffocate her. Panic grips me in its iron fist. This is it, I’m going to die, I’m going to die like Lina.
But I am not Lina, and he is not Ned. His hand is still over my mouth, but his fingers are no longer pinching my nose. My breath comes hard and fast, he is breathing hard too, the sound of it fills the room. I remember then, the day I had the panic attack, how he helped me, breathed with me, and tears spill from my eyes, down my cheeks, onto his bloodied hand. My body shudders with silent sobs, he doesn’t move, how can he? If he releases me, takes his hand from my mouth, Ned will hear my wails of frustration, of hopelessness, and remorse. So, he waits, he waits until I’m calm.
And then he leaves.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
PAST
Ned came to my room. I kept my eyes closed, my body still.
“You need to get up,” he said. “We’ve been invited to lunch.”
I didn’t reply and he moved nearer to my bed. My skin crawled.
“Did you hear what I said?”
“I can’t,” I muttered. “I can’t eat lunch.”
“Too bad, I need you there. It’s a potential business contact and he wants to meet my new wife. Besides, you haven’t eaten in days.”
I lapsed back into silence. He had brought me food, I’d heard him place trays on the table next to my bed. But I hadn’t touched any of it. I couldn’t.
I sensed him bending toward me and my body flinched in response.
“You want this to be over, don’t you? It would be a shame if it had to drag on for more than a month.”
I heard his threat, and something withered inside me.
“Be ready in thirty minutes. And bring a swimsuit.”