WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers (38 page)

“That
sucks.”

“When
his dad became too sick to work, Alan quit his I.T. job to run his dad’s scrap
business.  But then, when his dad died, Alan turned into an idiot, and his
behaviour grew worse.”  I’d cut him too much slack because I thought his
behaviour was due to grief.

“Really?”

“Yes,
really.  Alan just slapped the motivation and zest right out of me.” 
I hadn’t actually lived the last couple of years, I’d merely existed and tiptoed
around him, waiting for him to revert back to his old self. 

“And
then you met Dylan?”

“Yes. 
We didn’t get together at first.  But once we did, I started to get a
little of my old self back.  I left my husband for
me
, but meeting
Dylan jolted me into getting up the nerve.”  I briefly smiled, remembering
coming
alive
again as I got to know him.  “He runs an outdoor
adventure park with his brother.  Ziplines, rope bridges, that sort of
stuff.  He enjoys life.”

“Sounds
fun.”

I
laughed.  “It is, but also scary!  I hate heights.  Anyway, when
I finally left Alan yesterday, I felt like I’d punched a hole through... 
like I’d broken free of the stifling shell around me.”  I heaved a
sigh.  “Well, until all this happened.” 

John
nodded, and then played with the laces on his trainers.  “If they ask
questions, Jenna, let me do the talking, okay?”

I
nodded.  “Suits me fine.”  If I said the wrong thing, they might work
out that I wasn’t Kerry.  I fisted my hands, two knots of anxiety resting
on my lap.  “What’s going to happen to us once they get the drugs?”

His
jaw clenched.  He didn’t even glance at me.

My
shoulders sagged.  “We have to break out of this bloody, stinking
place.  Find some way to—”  A man strutted past the entrance to the
toilets.  I clamped my lips together, and sat still, terrified that if I
moved even an inch, I’d catch his eye causing him to check on us.

Time
dragged painfully slowly.  Seconds marked by drips of water, footsteps,
clanking pool balls and banter.  Phrases like ‘fluke-shot,’ and,
‘you-break-like-a-girl,’ drifted in from the pool room.  My hopes lay in
pulling off Kerry’s identity long enough for Dylan to track me down at the bus
station later.  I hoped, or more to the point, I
knew
he’d squeeze
every detail of the exchange out of Kerry.  He wouldn’t just leave me to
rot.

On
hearing footsteps approach the entrance to the restroom again, a physical
unease turned my body to jelly.  I wanted it to be the police, but knew it
wouldn’t be.

“Remember
what I said,” John instructed.  “Let me handle things.”

More
footsteps.  Heavier.  I glimpsed the doorway and had to do a
double-take.  This was no friendly rescuer, no saviour.  A tall
muscular guy in a blue t-shirt marched in.  He stared at me, and quickly
pulled a freakish-looking mask down his forehead to cover his face. 
Surely this was a fever-nightmare from which I would awaken?  The
half-head mask left his mouth and stubbled chin on show, but it was the
weirdest thing; the top half of someone
else’s
face printed onto card,
curved around his head and held in place by elastic. 

He
held a pint glass in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. 

Oh,
hell!  I remembered the bag was not covering my head. 

He
wagged a finger at me.  It was too late to yank the bag back down, he’d seen
me.  Although disturbed by his presence, I was unable to drag my eyes off
him.  I stared through the cut-out eye slits of his mask, watching his
dark pupils zero in on me.  I sat trembling.  I didn’t need to hear
his voice to know he was an evil man. 

But
how evil?

“How
long are you keeping us tied up here?” John demanded.

The
guy downed the last of his beer, then sighed in anger.  “Let’s get the
rules out of the way.”  He hurled the glass in an arc above my head.

I
ducked, and heard it smash against the back wall.  As he stomped past me
into the cubicle I was tied to, I tensed even more.  He stopped, and
stared down at me.

 
His probing eyes made my skin crawl. 
Why is he studying my neck?
 

He
turned away and stood legs apart in front of the toilet.  My nerves blazed
like fire ants swarming my body as I sat, squirming and staring at the butt of
his jeans.  He blew a column of smoke into the air, and then dropped his
cigarette in the puddle of pee near my feet.  The glow sizzled out. 

A
zipper rasped. 

I
didn’t dare move, sob, or draw a single breath. 

“Attempt
to escape... and there’ll be consequences,” the man said, keeping his back to
me. 

In
the blink of an eye, the guy twisted around and grabbed me.  He bunched
the collar of my jumper in his fist.  He dragged me forwards until I was
on one knee, squatting awkwardly against the frame of the cubicle right next to
him.  “And I decide when that bag comes off your head, not you.”  He
crouched down and produced a long, black object from his boot.  A shaver? 
No.  It took me no more than a second to realise it wasn’t.  I’d
watched enough TV to recognise a stun gun. 

Oh
my God!  I shuddered and gasped.   Then, he used one hand to
wedge the gun against my throat, while he peed with the other.  I tilted my
head back and shut my eyes, fighting against the stomach acid that was already
halfway up my throat.  Blood pounded so loud in my ears that I could
barely hear the splashing as he peed.  I didn’t know if the gun thing
worked, or what it would feel like, but I didn’t want to find out.  I just
wanted this disturbing nutjob to zip up and leave the room so I could breathe
again.

“What
do you want from us?”  John asked, bitterly.  We already knew the
answer.  I presumed he was trying to distract him.

The
gun slipped away from my throat as the guy turned, shook his manhood right in
front of me, and then zipped his fly. 

My
cheeks ballooned and I gagged.

“If
they sense even a whisper of trouble tonight,” John said, “the exchange won’t
go down.  You’ll not get your hands on the drugs.”

The
guy started to exit the cubicle.  “Drugs?”  He signalled for me to
shuffle backwards.  “Here’s another rule to remember... I ask the
questions, and you answer them straight away.”  As I moved, he leaned one
hand on the cubicle door and glowered at each of us in turn.  “Give me
details.  Where’s the exchange taking place?”  He must have pressed a
button because a blue light jumped between two pins on the stun gun. 
“You’re going to answer.”  He looked back at the blue light with a
satisfied but wicked grin.

All
the warmth drained from my face.  My gaze shot over to John, seeking
help.  Elliot’s cute little face flashed into my mind as I looked at
him.  It wasn’t just the safety of John and me at risk.  If John and
Kerry didn’t deliver the drugs to their neighbour, Elliot could get hurt.
 

“Bus
station.”  John said, in a strange, cocksure voice.  “But how do I
know you won’t just kill us if I tell you everything?”

I
pulled my gaze back to the gun, staring in fear as though he held a venomous
snake in his hand. 

The
guy made a low huffing sound.  “You don’t.  But this is what happens
when you don’t cooperate.”

I
didn’t think it possible to feel more fear, but then, without giving us a
second chance to answer, the guy thrust his hand forward and stuck me with the
buzzing gun.  A jolt of electricity ripped through my belly button. 
My stomach filled with a sharp, searing pain.  A scream tore out of my
throat as I fell backwards onto the filthy tiles, shaking violently.  My
vision filled with jumping dots then darkness blotted it out.  Thankfully,
I must have passed out for a moment.  When I came to, my head felt like it
was filled with concrete, lulling sideways.  Drool slid down my chin and
my eyes watered.  I almost lost control of my bladder. 

The
guy’s voice and John’s protesting grew louder.  Eventually I could make
out John’s words as he shouted, “Oh, hell!  Not again.”

I
shuddered and cracked one eye open.

 “Hey,”
the guy said, in a loud but emotionless tone, waving the gun near my
head.  He nudged my shin with his boot.  “Wake up.  If your
boyfriend won’t talk to save you, then you should.”

I
forced my other watery eye to open.  Saliva trickled down my chin as I
stared up.  Although a blur, the man was still there, evil eyes boring
into me from behind the weird and daunting mask.  His hand jerked, the one
controlling the gun. 

I
screamed, steeling myself so tight that every muscle begged for mercy.
 
Not again! 
The details of the drug exchange nearly skidded off my
tongue, but I had to stop them.  If I gave up the information, wouldn’t
they just kill us both, right here, this very second?  “I... 
It’s...” I murmured, and I struggled to decide what to tell him.

The
guy gave a short, cold laugh.  “Like pain, do you?”

“Don’t
hurt her, you freak,” John snapped. 

The
beefcake positioned the gun a few inches from my chest.  “Anytime you feel
like speaking, just jump right in.  I’ll give you five seconds. 
How’s that?  Five, four, three, get ready...”  The man’s voice didn’t
frighten me, just the ticking time bomb meaning of his words.  He glanced
down at me.  “The drugs?”

“Don’t
do it,” John pleaded.

I
now wanted to speak, would have told him everything, but I couldn’t get any
words out.  My throat clogged on hearing the stun gun crackle.  A
flash of blue, like miniature lightning, jumped between the two metal pins
making my blood run cold. 

“Two.” 
He raised his eyebrows at me.  “You’ll want to hold your breath for this,
darlin’...
One!
”

I
flinched, nearly exploding out of my skin.  But then, a second later,
John’s voice rang out, throwing me a lifebuoy.  All the cockiness had
disappeared from his voice.  “Wait!  You win.  I’ll talk, I’ll
talk.”  He threw his hands in the air, and suddenly I could breathe again. 
“Bus station.  The cash is in a locker and the drug exchange...” 
John glanced at me.  A worried, yet probing expression creased his
face. 

Was
I meant to understand?  I didn’t.

He
continued.  “It... it takes place at f... seven o’clock. 
Tonight.  Tomorrow.  Saturday.  What day is it?”

“See. 
It’s not so hard to talk, is it?” the guy said.

“B...
but they know my...
our
faces.” John’s voice toughened.  “You can’t
kill us!  You need us.  Both of us.  If we don’t show up,
neither will they.”

At
this point, the guy pulled the gun away from me.

Relief
flooded my body. 

He
laughed, stuffed the gun down his boot and tugged his jeans over it. 
“Like I said, I ask, you answer.  That’ll do.”  His voice lowered to
a growl.  “For now.”  He began walking past me, jamming the ends of my
hair under his chunky boot.  He bent over me and winked.  Then, ever
so slowly, he stroked my cheek, his calloused fingers unwelcome against my
skin.  “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?  My boss was
right.”  

A
chill snaked down my spine.  His touch disgusted me.  A few thumping
heartbeats later, he released my hair, turned on his boots and left.

“Shittin’
hell.”  I sobbed, shaking in a taut horror.  I rolled out flat on my
back on the floor.  I blew out a splutter of breaths as though I’d been
drowning.  Drowning in fear. 

“You’re
safe for now,” John said.  “He’s gone.”

I
kicked my feet, desperate to bust my sore ankles free from their straps. 
When they didn’t give, anger and fear built up inside me until my emotions grew
so energised there was nowhere for them to go, but out.  A loud cry
exploded from my throat.  

The
monsters holding us captive were not only armed and ruthless, but having fun
with it.  Our lives, and Elliot’s, were in the balance.  The
stun-gun-happy henchman, or perhaps someone even worse, would soon be back.

A
s the afternoon
rolled in, my head felt jet-lagged, my eyes two balls of tension playing truant
in a far-off time zone.

The
men, who’d taken it in turns to snooze and keep watch over us all night and morning,
had perked up.  They started drinking and playing pool.

I
glanced at John.  “How much longer can they hold us in this hellhole?”
 I groaned.  I’d barely slept a wink all night.  While my mind
had drifted in and out of awareness, I’d just gazed, heavy-headed, out through
the window at the moon and stars - the only familiar things in this dark
reality.  I wished I had been staring at the silver beauties from
someplace else.  Trapped in my marriage I had pictured myself as one of
those falling stars, but when I met Dylan, he changed all that.  He told
me that I was no longer falling, but on the rise.

“They’ll
probably want to take us to the bus station early, check the place out. 
So my guess is we’ll be leaving in a few hours.”  John’s eyes softened as he
looked at me.  “Why don’t you get some sleep?”

“I’d
love to, but my head’s buzzing.”

 He
smiled.  He understood.  “Same here.”

“Let’s
just hope that Dylan and Kerry turn up at the bus station with help.”  I
pushed my Styrofoam cup of water away, repulsed by what it represented. 
“I daren’t drink any more.  I can’t bear that beefcake’s seedy eyes on me
when I use the toilet.“  I shuddered at the memory.  “I’m sure he
enjoys his job more than he should.”

“Just
try not to react.  Act like you’re not bothered.”

“Easier
said than done.”  It took me until this moment, to realise that my hatred
for Kerry and John was dissolving.  Although our predicament was their
doing, we were now a team.  We had to be.

“It’s
strange though,” John began.

I
harrumphed.  “Which part?”

“That
they thought Kerry would be... pretty.”

I
was taken aback.  “That’s not very nice.”

“No. 
I didn’t mean it like that.  No one thinks of Kerry as pretty in a girly
kind of way.”

“The
whole things strange.  I feel so tired.  I can’t focus.  But...”
I paused, recalling something that struck me as odd last night. 
“Something’s bugging me.  Don’t you think that guy’s reaction was weird
when you told him...”

Suddenly,
pool balls stopped clinking in the next room, but the clatter of glass replaced
it.  “Shit.  He’s early,” a man said, rushing to get his words
out.  “Lose that beer bottle and get to your feet, man.  Look alert.”

I
aimed my ear their way and tried to listen.  My eyelids drooped.  I
felt drained, tight-headed, unable to concentrate. 

A
door banged open and two sets of footsteps tapped heavily into the pool
room.  “So, now we’ve got the password, let’s get to grips with the
operation,” a man said with a slight Geordie accent.  “And then get the
cold callers back in here on Monday.  Has that computer geek showed up
yet?  I’m pissed at Dominic for losing track of her.”

“On
her way, boss.  She’s not really a geek,” the man who had stuck me with
the stun gun replied.  I would never forget that haunting voice. 
“Apparently she’s quite tidy, smoking-hot pair of pins on her.  Anyway,
she’s the only person he trained to use the software.  He logs her in and
then leaves her to it.  Joe messaged her saying there’s a problem and she
has to get to the office, quick smart.”

“Make
sure our cars are out
of site,” the man issuing the orders said. 
“I don’t want her to get spooked.”

“Sure. 
You three!  Drive round the lanes a while.  Grab a burger, play
footie with a hedgehog or something, and keep an eye out for cop cars. 
I’ll phone you when we need you back.”

“No
problem,” someone replied.  Several sets of footsteps tapped out of the
room.

“How
are our guests doing?” the man in charge said.

“Fine. 
Joe reckons once she sees them, she’ll do whatever you want with the
software.  Oh, and I have some news that may interest you.”  He
paused.  “Drug exchange going down at the bus station tonight.”

What?
  I jerked
forward, listened harder.

“Drugs,
eh?  I’ve really hit the jackpot today.  That’ll be a canny quick
earner.  Time?”

“Seven
o’clock.”

Confusion
flooded my brain.  That guy seemed surprised by the news of the drug
exchange earlier, but this just confirmed it.  And what was all that talk
about passwords and a computer geek?  I shook my head, trying to snap
myself more awake and make sense of it.

“
Reet
,”
he said in his Geordie accent.  “I’m putting you in charge of this. 
Don’t let me
doon
.”

“Have
I ever?”

“You
intercept the drugs.  We’ll wait for the hot chick to arrive.  Once
I’m satisfied she’s on board, and accessed the software, we’ll dispose of our
guests.”

“Understood.”

The
words ‘guests’ and ‘dispose of,’ caused every fibre of my being to
contract.  My brain went haywire, trying to make sense of what I’d heard.

John
waved for my attention.  “Our only hope is to escape during the exchange.”
 He couldn’t have been listening to the men. 

It
took me several seconds to process John’s words, because I was still
unravelling their conversation.

The
question, ‘John, why are they discussing software and passwords?’ was on my
lips when a lean man, dressed in an impressively sharp black suit, strutted
past the doorway.  From his clothing and confident swagger, I figured him
to be top of the food chain – the one speaking with a Geordie accent.  He
must have circled the entire room before crossing the entrance to the restroom
again.  He looked clean shaven and tanned, but his skin appeared a little
too weathered to be younger than forty.  I almost looked away, but the
angry part of me refused.  I had to see the face of the person who had stolen
my freedom.  The person who, in a few hours time, might give the nod to
end my...

He
moved out of the doorway, revealing another man in the room who had a cardboard
mask perched on his nose.  The guy stepped into view for the briefest of
seconds, exposing the side of his face.  Then he was gone.  It was
not an unfamiliar sight.  My mind spun into overdrive, scanning every
filing cabinet of my memories.

“Jenna,”
John whispered.  “Are you listening?  I said we need to...”

I steepled
my fingers together, tapped them against my mouth and rocked back and forth on
my bottom. 
Why does that face ring a bell?
 

John
waved a hand in the air.  “Jenna.  Speak to me.  What is it?”

Then
it hit me, blazed into my tired mind as brilliant as neon. 

What
was
he
doing here?

I
gasped and dipped my head.  If this was the man that my gut reaction told
me it was... the man that worked for my husband.  “Oh, my Lord!” I coughed
out.  Getting bombed, kidnapped, and hit by a stun gun in a grotty toilet
could be just the start. 

“Jenna?”

“We
have to leave.  Right now,” I whispered, my lips vibrating.  How
likely was it that someone who worked for my husband would only cross my path
by accident, on the very weekend I’d walked out of my marriage?  Confusion
cluttered my head, a jungle of shaky facts and questions crowding my brain.

“Oh,
I’d love to leave,” John whispered.  “Hand me a pair of scissors to cut
these straps off, and then lead the way.”

I
scanned the floor, running my eyes over every putrid inch of it. 
Alan
must be behind this.  Ugh!  Why hadn’t I made the connection
before? 
That’s why the drug exchange was news to these people. 
Alan intended to punish me for leaving him and must have found out about Dylan,
about our weekend at the retreat.  No wonder Alan hadn’t shown up
yet.  He was making us sweat it out.  “I think that Geordie guy is in
charge, following orders,” I muttered.

“Hey,”
John said. 

My
gaze jumped across to him.  Oh, crap.  Alan would think that my lover
was... John!
 
I’d be dragged back home, be a prisoner in my own
house, and John would end up scattered across town - his head in the north, his
limbs in the south.  I stared in guilt at John.  “I don’t understand
everything that’s going on, but I think we have our wires crossed.”  My
body shook so much that my whispers rattled out of me.  “If we don’t break
out of here, they are going to kill you... slowly.”