The Edge of Sanity (20 page)

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.’

He threw his hands up in despair as Kayla burst into a fresh crop of tears.

‘Shut up!’ Steve warned. ‘Or I’ll have no choice but to stuff a tranquilliser down your throat!’

‘Right. That’s better.’ He nodded, satisfied as Kayla obliged. ‘Now, stay put.’

Cautiously, he tiptoed the length of the boat, mounted the first step, and a sharp rap on the glass had him cracking his shin on the third.

‘Christ Al-bloody-mighty! Stop your snivelling, will you!?’ he snapped at Kayla behind him, who’d started up again, then turned back to the door to call, ‘Who is it?’

‘Who
is
it?’ Charlie answered, agitated. ‘Little Red Riding Hood. Who do you
think
it is?’

‘Oh, right.’ Steve fumbled the keys from his pocket and fiddled with the padlock. ‘Just a minute.’

‘
Just a minute!’
Charlie repeated despairingly. ‘Bloody big girl’s blouse,’ he muttered. ‘Hurry it up, Steve, for Christ’s sake.’

At last Steve wrestled the doors open, and shone the torch—straight in Charlie’s face.

‘Turn it off, you great fat pillock,’ Charlie snapped, grabbing Daniel’s shirt to force him ahead of him. ‘Do you want the Neighbourhood Watch onto us, or what?’

‘Sorry,’ Steve mumbled, parking the torch on a shelf.

‘
Sorry!?
’ The bloke was a bloody liability, that’s what. ‘Use your brains, Steve, there’s a good bloke.’ Charlie decided to use his own and cool his temper. Didn’t want to rub Steve too much up the wrong way. There was an awful lot of him to rub up. ‘Fetch that lot in will you, mate?’ he asked chummily, nodding behind him towards the provisions on deck.

Steve scratched his head, looking past Charlie, confused. ‘Er, you do know what you’re doing, don’t you, Charlie?’

‘Yes, Steve.’ Charlie sighed, motioning Daniel inside ahead of him. ‘I do know what I’m doing. Do you?’ He shot Steve a look that, hopefully, told him he’d bloody well better.

‘Taken a bit of a beating, hasn’t he?’ Steve observed, his brow furrowed, as Daniel came down the steps.

‘A bloody good beating, from the looks,’ Steve glanced up at Charlie, looking none too impressed as Daniel squeezed past. ‘Cut on the head doesn’t look too clever, does it? Need stitches, that will.’

Charlie gave Steve a warning glance as he followed Daniel down. ‘Wipe the pious look off your face, mate, and don’t question my judgment, hey? He’s been out of order, so I sorted him out.’

Steve didn’t look any more impressed. He shrugged and turned sideways to allow Charlie access.

Charlie stopped and faced him. ‘He’s a child killer, Steve, me old mate. Save your sympathy for someone more deserving, why don’t you?’

Steve turned away and bustled on up the steps. ‘What? Like her, you mean?’ he asked, trailing his eyes over the distinct bruise on Jo’s face. He nodded her down into the boat, picked up an armful of provisions, and followed her.

‘Belting the bloke’s wife was well out of order,
mate
,’ he muttered, openly disgusted, as he passed back by Charlie. ‘And
you
know it. No bloody need.’

****

Daniel braced himself and headed towards the back of the boat, his mouth dry, sweat beading his brow, and sick to his soul. Kayla was there, hidden somewhere. He could hear her, crying softly.

‘Did I tell you to move?’ Charlie called behind him.

Daniel stopped and raked his hand through his hair. He was tempted to carry on, but where would that get him? A step closer to his daughter, and unconscious if that lunatic decided to swing the gun from behind, which he would, no hesitation.

Daniel squared his shoulders and waited as Charlie squeezed past him, the small space available dictating body contact.

He took his time. Blew Daniel a kiss, then gave him a suggestive wink, his mouth twisting into a sneer and his eyes mocking, barely six inches from Daniel’s.

Daniel had never felt the inclination to headbutt anyone. That was more Charlie’s territory. But right then, it took all of his willpower not to.

Charlie laughed, then swaggered towards the bow end of the boat, whistling a merry tune, the gun propped on his shoulder.

Sometime, Daniel thought, sometime soon, Charlie
boy
was going to beg for mercy. And Daniel would take great pleasure in showing him none. He looked away, disgust broiling in his stomach, as Charlie looked back at him with another lewd wink.

Charlie laughed again, shook his head, and then bent to peer into the berth. ‘Out,’ he ordered.

Kayla didn’t budge.

‘Come
on
, you stubborn bitch, move it,’ Charlie fumed. He reached for her arm, but Kayla recoiled as far back into the corner as she could.

‘No,’ Kayla said, sounding so small and scared that another part of Daniel died inside.

‘
You, s
weetheart,’ Charlie muttered, as Daniel bunched his fist at his side, ‘are gettin’ seriously on my nerves.’

He propped the gun against the berth, grabbed Kayla with both hands and dragged her bodily into the well of the boat.

‘Kayla!’ Jo screamed, behind Daniel. ‘What have you done to her!?’

Daniel reeled on his feet. He looked at his daughter.
His
daughter, her body barely covered, and her eyes those of a terrified child. Her face bruised. Her arms covered in red finger welts.

Jesus
Christ …
Daniel prayed hard for God to give him strength. ‘You
fucking
animal.’ He gritted his teeth, swallowed hard, and stepped instinctively forwards.

‘Stay,’ Charlie commanded, quickly retrieving his gun and pulling Kayla roughly back against him.

Daniel looked heavenwards. ‘
Bastard.
’ A guttural moan escaped his throat. He slammed his fist against the side of the boat.

‘Temper, temper.’ Charlie tsked. ‘Don’t want to go upsetting your daughter all over again, do you, Danny Boy? Done enough damage already, haven’t you?’

Charlie eyed Daniel steadily. ‘Still, she’s feeling much better now she’s got it all off her chest and confided in Charlie. Aren’t you, sweetheart?’

He wrapped his arm proprietarily around Kayla’s waist, then inched it higher, all the time watching Daniel, who looked at his daughter, who looked back at him. Daniel could see open terror in her eyes and do nothing about it.

‘Said she’d been a bit of a pain lately,’ Charlie went on, obviously enjoying himself. He nuzzled his face close to Kayla’s. ‘Said she’d been a bad girl, didn’t you, babe? Needing punishing, she told me.’ Charlie paused, his gloating eyes still on Daniel’s. ‘So I obliged, didn’t I? Well, what’s a bloke supposed to do, hey?’ Charlie shrugged nonchalantly.

Daniel stared at him, pure anger pumping through his veins. He wasn’t going to stop. He was going to go on and on. The evil son-of-a-bitch wanted more than money, he was beginning to realise, with sickening certainty.

‘You’re looking at me, Daniel,’ Charlie reminded him.

Fury mounted in Daniel’s chest. For one second he faltered, before caution of what kind of show that animal would put on for Kayla’s benefit forced him to look down. ‘Just let her go,’ he said tightly, ‘okay?’

‘You forgot the magic word.’ Charlie smiled patiently.

‘Please.’ Daniel almost spat it out.

‘For God’s sake!’ Jo screamed, trying to push past Daniel. ‘Let her go! You sick—’

‘Jo!’ Daniel seized her shoulders. ‘Don’t!’

He locked his gaze hard on hers. ‘Don’t, Jo,’ he repeated gently, watched as the fire in Jo’s eyes gave way to comprehension, and then pulled her into in his arms.

‘That’s better, Daniel,’ Charlie said approvingly. ‘You should have asserted a bit of authority before now, shouldn’t you, Danny Boy, then maybe you wouldn’t be in this mess. Now, if I were you, sweetheart,’ he addressed Jo, malice in his eyes, ‘I’d step back.’