WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers (29 page)

BOOK: WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers
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CHAPTER 32

 

W
e gumshoed into
the kitchen.  I perched on a stool, ready to break the news to the tipsy
girls.  Unbelievable.  A few were still missing from the room. 
Problem number one.  We couldn’t leave anyone behind. 

At
least Paul wasn’t in sight.

After
rummaging through a drawer, Laura waved her car keys in the air and mouthed,
‘Jess must still be in the toilet with Claire.  I’ll go get them.’ 

I
nodded my agreement, then placed a finger over my lips and looked at the other
girls.  “Hush.  Listen.” 

No
one responded.  The music drowned my whispers. 

I
spotted movement.

Paul
appeared in the hall.

Oh,
crap!  I felt angry, scared, and sick, in that order.  It made me
shake. 
Calm down and keep yourself together, keep yourself together
until he leaves the room, then make a run for it.

Laura
started moving.  Her dainty steps dotted between Paul’s like a faint echo
during an instrumental stretch of music.  The different footstep rhythms
continued until they came together inside the kitchen doorway. 

Why
is she walking over to him?
 
Why is she...?

“Do
you love me, Paul?” she asked in a delicate voice.

“What
made you ask that?  Of course, I love you.  Very much,” he replied,
slipping his arm around her waist, kissing her again.  “You’ve been
crying?  Cold feet?”

I
gave Laura the eye, silently saying,
‘Have you lost your freakin’ mind?’

She
frowned at me.  Oh, shit! 
Doesn’t she believe Paul’s the blackmailer?
 

Laura
turned her gaze back to Paul.  “Just… wedding nerves.  Aren’t
you
nervous about tomorrow?”

Paul
smiled and stroked her hair.  “I’m excited.  It’ll be a day I’ll
never, ever forget.” 

“And
you want to be with me forever?”  Laura gazed searchingly into his
eyes.  “Raise a family, grow old and grey with me?”

“Yes,
sweetheart,” he replied. 

The
word ‘sweetheart’ made me cough.

“So,
tomorrow should feel like we’ve both won the lottery and...”  Laura
paused, mouth open, as though debating whether to continue. 

I
stiffened, feeling pretty sure she was about to blow it for us before we’d
ushered everyone out of the house.

She
finished.  “Feel like…
your number’s up
?”

My
elbow slipped off the worktop. 

Paul’s
jaw twitched.  “Sure.  Exactly,” Paul said, then pulled a crooked
face as though pretending the phrase Laura had said was alien to him.

Laura
drove her gaze to me.  Anger and terror.

She
believed me now. 

Paul
wrapped his arm around Laura’s dainty shoulders and squeezed.  My best
friend, was in a killer’s grip, and I didn’t know what to do about it. 

The
front door slammed at the end of the hall.  I snapped my head to the left
to look.

Mark?

I
doubted it was anyone else.

I wanted
to jump to my feet and race after Mark, apologise for blackmailing him and beg
for his help.  But I couldn’t.  I couldn’t show Paul that I knew we
even needed help.

A
potent few seconds passed.  I sensed Paul’s eyes burning into me. 

“I’ve
just got to… do something,” Laura said, her voice coloured with despair. 
She slipped out from under Paul’s meaty arm and entered the hall.

I
blotted my palms on my jeans and waited, hankering for Paul to go back into the
lounge so we could barricade him in and have a fighting chance of getting all
the girls out.  If we ran for it now, he’d grab some of us, and most of
our friends were probably too drunk to fight him off.

During
the fadeout of a song, Paul’s footsteps scuffed the floor behind me.  A
mix of bile and warm Champagne began rising up my throat and into my
mouth.  I had my back to the most terrifying man I’d ever
encountered. 

“Thanks
for the heads up, partner.”  Paul’s voice was a sinister tease blowing
warm breath into my ear.  He pressed something into my back.  A
finger?  And then he dragged it slowly, ever so slowly, up my spine to the
dint at the back of my neck. 

A
shot of coldness raced around my body.

“I
got your text.  You’ve been busy.”  Then he whipped Laura’s knickers
from my back jean pocket, dangled them in front of my face. 

I
stared at them, stiffened then shook.

“Don’t
go anywhere.”  There was a cold edge to his voice.  “I’ll be back for
you very soon.”

I
squeezed my hand into a fist, twisted and swung. 

Paul
raced out of the kitchen shouting Laura’s name as he left.

My
fist swiped air.  I slipped off the stool, and fell on the floor. 

He
slammed the door behind him, blocking my view of the hall. 

“Laura!”
I yelled.

“Chelsea?” 
Megan said.  “You okay down there?”

I
jumped to my feet.  “Get out, everyone.  Quick!  Paul killed
Lee’s brother.  He’s a murderer!”

“What?”
high-pitched voices answered.  “What are you talking about, Chelsea?”

Jayne
choked out her drink.  “Check your calendar, girl.  It ain’t April
fool’s day.” 

I
slapped the worktop.  “We’re in real trouble.  Get that back door
open.  Right now.”  I bolted to the hall door to go after Laura.

Jayne
giggled.  “Sure thing, Chelsea.  How much champagne have you
downed?” 

I
yanked, but the hall door wouldn’t open.  “No.  God, no!”

“This
is a prank, right?” Emma asked, a chuckle in her tone.  “Are you filming
us?”

When
I spun around, Emma was practically standing on my toes.  Her gaze fixed
on my face.  I traded a stare with her and didn’t even blink.  “This
is what that email is about.  I lied to you.  I did get more of
them.  So did Laura.”

“You’re
joking?” she said, staggering and looking drunk.

“You
know me, Emma.  Do I look like I’m joking?  Paul sent them. 
They’re death threats because Laura had an affair with Lee’s brother.”  It
pained me to say, “Paul’s gonna kill us all!” 

Emma
giggled. 

I
stared harder, eyes narrower. 

Her
giggling stopped.  She stepped closer, clamped my face between her palms
and studied my expression.  “You’re serious, aren’t you?  You’re
actually shaking.”

I
nodded.

“Flippin’
heck!  Let’s get out of here.”  Emma turned on her heels and bolted
to the back door.  “Shit!  It’s locked.”

“Find
the key.  Look in those drawers,” I said, pointing.  “Don’t just
stand there, you lot.  Move!” 

Jayne
charged to the back door next to Emma, crashed against it, yanked at the handle
and kicked. 

“Quietly,”
I whispered. 

But
there was no need now.

An
argument erupted behind the hall door as I reached to grip the handle. 

“Paul! 
I can’t believe you’ve done this,” Laura shouted.  “You’re a sick
maniac.  Don’t touch me!  Ouch.  That hurts.” 

Paul’s
voice drowned hers out.  “You’re a filthy, bed-hopping whore.” 
Paul’s once friendly groom-to-be persona got stripped further away with every
venom-filled word.  “Cheating, lying bitch!” 

I
tried to wrench the door open.

Claire’s
screeching voice sliced at my ears from the other side of the door. 
“What’s going on?  Paul!  Get your hands off her, you hear me?” 

Fast
footsteps pounded up the stairs. 

“Run!”

“Get
back here,” Paul yelled.  “No one makes a fool out of me.”

“What’s
going on?” Jess yelped.

“Claire
run, run.  Go!” Laura roared, her voice choked with panic.

Jess
screamed.

But
then, after a series of thumps, more shouting and the shattering of glass, all
went silent.

“Where
the hell does she keep the key?” Jayne said from behind me.  “Will someone
let me out of this goddamned house?”  She kicked and punched the back
door.

Screams
came from the hall.  I jumped back.

The
girls darted frantically around the kitchen.  They kicked doors, crashed
into each other, banged on the window shouting, “We have to get out.”  The
four of us, trapped in the kitchen, were loose ends.  Paul, no doubt,
wouldn’t want any.

With
a sickening riot in my stomach, I yanked on the door again.  “Laura! 
Claire!  Open this door!”  The few metres between Laura in the hall,
and me in the kitchen, seemed to be further than the moon.

Emma
ran to me.  “I’ll help.”  She placed her hands over mine on the door
knob, and tugged with her foot pushing against the frame.  It took all our
strength but the door only wiggled and rattled.

“It
won’t budge!” she yelled.  “He’s wedged it!” 

Thump. 
Thump.  We kicked it.

The
screams weakened, ending in an eerie silence.

“Smash
the window,” Jayne hollered from behind.  “Swing this.”

I
heard a clattering noise behind me like something bounced off glass.  I
turned and saw the window had spiderwebbed.

I
heard scraping noises then a single thud.  I looked back at the hall door
and saw the handle wiggle a fraction. 

“Who’s
that?” I asked.  “Laura?  Jess?”  If it was one of the girls
they would have answered, screamed or something.

Flinching
as the door knob turned to the left, I stared down at my empty hands.  I’d
wasted time and didn’t have a weapon.  I hurled myself at the door, rammed
it shut with my weight and tried to stop the handle from turning any
further.  “Help me!”

Emma
pushed against the door with her shoulder. 

The
door jerked.  I felt the jolts and bounce of it pushing my body as it
inched open and closed, repeatedly.

“Open
this door!” Paul commanded.

“Press
harder, Emma.  Don’t let him in.”  The more I pushed, the lower down
the door I slid.

The
pressure suddenly stopped. 

I
glanced at Emma.  “What’s he up to?”  Before I realised what was
happening, he rammed against the door.  Feeling like a truck had driven
into me, the powerful jolt of the door flinging open sent both of us skidding
across the tiles.  

Something
like a stampede began punching from inside my chest as I regained
balance.  I looked ahead.  The once bright, friendly eyes of Paul
were missing their softness completely.  And I was staring directly at the
enraged face of a madman whose secret was out. 

CHAPTER 33

 

A
new track kicked
in on the CD player, an uplifting tune in no way reflecting the sorry room.

Paul
stood tall, blocking the kitchen doorway.  Hair in disarray.  Mark’s
beige leather gloves were on his hands.  Red scratches ran from his right
eye down his cheek.  It was satisfying to see his own blood dripping down
his face.  He took on barbaric eyes, directed his menacing glare around
the room, and stepped inside.  There was something sinister about the way
he moved.  For a second, it paralysed me.  A predator moving slowly
so as not to alarm his prey.

But
I was alarmed.  And one glimpse over his shoulder was all I needed. 
I gasped.  A motionless female, with black hair, lay sprawled on the hall
floor.  Laura.  “You bastard!”

Paul
kick-slammed the door shut, blocking the extent of destruction from my
view. 

Charged
with rage, I hurtled myself on Paul and pummelled his chest with my
fists.  “What have you done to Laura?  What have you done?”

Paul
grabbed my shoulders, stared into my eyes and winked.  “I’m saving you for
last, Chelsea, sweetheart.”

His
brick of a fist slammed into my chest, pushing all the air out of my
lungs.  Winded, I looked up.  “Throw something at him.”

Emma
grabbed a vase of flowers from the worktop and hurled it at Paul’s head. 
He ducked, kicked a stool and advanced towards them.  The vase shattered
on the kitchen island spraying water everywhere.  Screams filled the
room.  Paul’s fists mowed through the line of my tipsy friends.  They
ducked, dodging his random blows, then tried to flee.  He knocked Megan to
the floor and she didn’t get back up.  He kicked Jayne, then grabbed Emma
by the hair.  He slapped her face and shook her violently before throwing
her against the kitchen cabinets. 

I
threw a shoe at Paul, staggered to my feet and darted over to Megan.  I
grabbed her top by the shoulders, and tried to drag her away.  Her eyes
rolled up behind her eyelids.  Her flimsy top tore in my hands and she
slipped from my grasp, dropping face down on the tiles.  Dead weight. 

“I’m
sorry,” I cried, and left her.

I
barrelled to the hall door to get help.  Just as I touched the handle with
my fingertips, gloved hands clapped my shoulders and gripped tight.  I
screamed. 

“I’m
not done with you.”  Paul pulled me backwards and thrust me across the
room.  I slammed into a wall and slid down to the floor.  Pain sliced
through my right arm.  Shaken, woozy, I had to get to my feet. 

“Help,
help,” the girls yelled.

Emma
rose from the adjacent corner.  Blood trickled out of her nose.  Then
Jayne rose.  Her small frame shook and appeared unsteady. 

Paul
faced the woozy girls. 

Shielded
only by the granite island in the centre, Jayne and Emma stood squashing
shoulders, forming a defensive line. 

Putting
my fist to Paul’s rock body would have been as useless as knuckles punching
concrete. 

I
needed... a knife. 

I
focused on the cutlery drawer and slid closer to it.  Paul had his back to
me, but my attempts at moving stealthily failed.  He must have caught my
reflection in the glossy cabinet doors. 

Fast
and heavy footsteps came up behind me.  “Oh, no you don’t!” Paul growled.

Petrified,
I dropped to the ground on my back as fast as if it had disappeared beneath me.

Paul
towered over me like a giant.  His eyes were narrowed to slit, and flinty
- the killer look I’d, at one time, tried to find in Lee. 

His
large gloved hand swooped down toward my face.  He hooked my chin and
squashed my nose.  Then, Emma kicked him in the face.

“Ow!
You little…” Paul snarled, and released me. 

I
slid beneath Paul's legs.

The
cutlery drawer rattled.

With
my cheek squashed against Paul’s leg, I opened my mouth wide and sunk my teeth
into the back of his knee.

He
yelled and freed my ankle.  A ting sounded and I presumed he’d dropped a
knife. 

I
didn’t stick around to find out. 

I
turned onto my knees and scrambled across the cold tiles while Emma threw mugs
and apples at him.  A bulb smashed and the room dimmed. 

“Leave
her alone, you shithead!” she yelled, and chucked the CD player his way.

Once
near the door, I searched for something hard and heavy to hit him with before
Emma ran out of cupboard items.  A pan lid sliced the air and clattered on
the floor sounding like a cymbal.  I grabbed it and threw it at the back
of Paul’s head.  It bounced off his shoulders.  Damn!

Emma’s
arms sliced the air like runaway rotor blades.  Paul began ducking and
diving, and then, put his fist into her face.  She went down for the
count. 

I
grabbed a stool and charged.  “Grrr....” 

The
chrome legs rammed into Paul’s back.  He twisted around, seized the stool
and chucked it in an arc over the kitchen island.  Then he picked up a
knife and raised his head.  One of his eyes was starting to swell from
where Emma had kicked him.  But more noticeably, his expression was livid,
his nostrils flared.  His long stare indicated I was next, and a menacing
twitch in his jaw told me he was going to enjoy it. 

Paul
laughed.  “There’s no escaping, Chelsea.  You may as well give in and
accept what’s coming to you.  It’s no less than you deserve.” 

Shivers
spiked down my spine.

Paul
stepped forward.  Laura’s chopping knife glinted in his hand as he tapped
his waist with it. 

I
spotted an empty glass bottle, grabbed it by the throat and lifted it above my
head.

“You
should have made Laura pay up again,” Paul said.  “Instead of playing
detective.”

 “Help. 
We need help in here!”  I screamed as loud as I could.  I waved the
bottle and gave Paul a sharp stare.  “Stay back.  Don’t come any
closer.”

He
laughed.  “No one screws around on me.”  Paul’s eyes narrowed to
slits again.  “But the person I’m most livid with… is you!”

“Me?”

“You’re
the reason Laura met Daryl.”

We
paced a tight, cautious circle.

“Her
parents would still be alive if it wasn’t for you.”  Hatred tightened the
lines fanning from his eyes.  “She’d never have needed a
psychiatrist.  She’d never have met Daryl.  And we’d be getting
married tomorrow and starting a family.”

“Oh,
my God!  Is that was this is about?  The car crash?”

“Laura’s
parents are dead because you date anything with a pulse.  Hell!  You
probably even encouraged her to have the affair.”

“I
didn’t.”  I glanced around the room for better weapons.  Something
more...

“Laura’s
so flaky I figured she’d do something stupid to herself once I jilted
her.  Save me the trouble.  And it’s been such fun watching you both
squirm.  But you!  I did have something extra special planned for you
after the wedding.  You’ve managed to ruin my entire life, and now you’ve
ruined my plans for revenge.”

I
slinked left. 
Stall him. 
“How did you find out about the
affair, Paul?”

“It
doesn’t matter anymore.”

I
frowned and tilted my head, hoping he’d feel the need to explain himself,
giving me more time.  “No.  Tell me.”

He
shrugged.  “What the hell.  I phoned Emma from Laura’s mobile to
arrange that spa day the other month.”  His voice changed, sounding even
more spiked with venom.  “I didn’t expect to listen to some sleazy guy
talking about dragging Laura’s panties down with his teeth.”

I
gasped. 

“And
this.”  He motioned around the room.  “Mark will go down for all
this.  Serves him right for eyeing up my fiancée.”

“You’re
sick and twisted.”  My throat was dry, the words were scratchy. 

The
police know everything.  They’ll be here any second.”

“Sure.” 
An evil smile parted Paul’s lips.  He raised a hand to his ear and
listened for the sound of sirens that clearly weren’t there.  Taunting me,
Paul thrust the knife my way in a quick-fire movement.

I
jumped back.

He
laughed.  “Fun’s over.  I’m bored now.”  He glanced at his wrist
watch.  “This isn’t exactly how I’d planned it.  Perhaps it’s even
worked out better.  Who’d have thought that you’d help me?”

“Help
you?”

“Your
blackmail attempt was genius!  Now the police will think that you’ve
blackmailed your friends, threatened yourself to cover your tracks, and Mark,
well, they’ll assume he’s gone nuts over being blackmailed and attacked
everyone.”  He laughed.  “Nice job.  Anyway, I should have
enough time to get to the hotel and rehearse my reaction.  Play the
grieving fiancé for the cops.”

“You
cruel bastard.”

He
took a step toward me.

For
any chance of surviving, I had to strike at the right moment.  Use my
brain.  Aim for his... 

I
gasped, seeing Jayne sprout from nowhere on the floor behind Paul, rising like
a delayed shadow.  I wanted to look unmoved, but I guess my reaction
betrayed me.  Paul spun around to confront her. 

Shit! 
Oh please, no.  

She
staggered and swayed less than a metre behind him.  Four stone lighter and
a foot shorter in height. 

The
blade glinted as he raised it toward her.  I thought fast, recalled Laura
telling me about Paul’s childhood.  About what had, in all likelihood,
brought him to this point.  “Stop!” I roared.  “Enough!  We’re
not the ones who made your childhood hell.”

He
turned his neck and glared at me with tight, blazing eyes.

I
continued.  “You can get help.  We’ll all help you.  We’re your
friends.  The police will understand.”  I was shocked by the lies
spilling out of my mouth, but more surprised that Paul was actually watching
me, listening to this nonsense.  “It’s not too late to stop this. 
Things can be... undone.”

Over
Paul’s shoulder I watched Jayne lifting her arm, wielding a silver
stiletto.  Paul reacted fast.  He pivoted around and kneed her hard
in the stomach.  It took her less than a second to fall to her knees, but
she caught him with her shoe on the downturn, opening up a line of blood above
his collarbone.

I
kicked him, then geared up to hit Paul over the head with the bottle, but he
swiped the knife my way.  I had to jump back.  The bottle slipped out
of my hand as I watched him turn, and then plunge the knife into Jayne’s
belly.  She collapsed on the floor, face up, hair fanned over the tiles.

“You’ve
done it now,” I said in a quiet yet hard-edged voice.

Paul
faced me and shrugged, showing he didn’t give a toss.  “You and your
friends are more entertaining than Daryl was,” he said, circling and clicking
the bones in his neck.  “Killing him was a bore.  Over in a
flash.  But enough foreplay.  Let’s finish this, bitch.”

My
heart vaulted up in my chest. 

We
stood a metre apart and I stared into the stone-faced eyes of the man who was
now going to stab me to death. 

Even
if I had it within me, I realised there’d be no talking him down.  I was
terrified, yes.  In deep shit.  But stronger than anything, fury
bubbled inside me like water in a kettle.  One by one he’d picked off the
important people in my life, made me watch and listen. 
No more!

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