by M K Farrar
“No, no. You’re wrong. It was an accident.”
“We both know that’s not true. You put two hands on him, and you pushed him hard, and then you waited to make sure he was dead before you called for help.”
“I was in shock. I had hoped he was all right. It wasn’t done deliberately.”
“That’s a lie. You wanted him dead. You were glad he was gone.”
“No,” she insisted, “No, I wasn’t!”
But that was a lie. She hadn’t been glad that she’d been the one to kill Anthony, and that her parents would be heartbroken, but she’d been happy he was dead. He’d tormented her for years, and the threats he’d made to her were unthinkable. Anthony being dead had been the best thing to happen to her.
Kyle continued with his story. “I kept my eye open in the local papers to see if you ever came forward and told the truth. That was what a good girl would have done, wasn’t it, assuming it really was an accident, of course? But you never did, did you? You told everyone it was an accident and that your brother had been messing around on the wall, and that he’d lost his balance. You never once let it slip that you had something to do with that.
“You see, when I spotted the two of you that day, I thought it was the boy who was the one who didn’t belong. But after that had happened and the years crawled by, and still you lived this lie, showing the whole world that you were something you were not, it occurred to me that you were the one who didn’t belong after all.”
Natalie managed to find her voice. “What-what do you want from me?”
He gestured between them. “This, Natalie. I want this.”
She was confused. “You want a relationship?” She started to put the pieces together in her head, the parts slotting in like a game of Tetris.
But he shook his head. “Not a relationship like you know it. I miss being a part of a family.”
“And if I don’t give you what you want, what then?”
“Then I get to tell everyone the truth about what happened that day.”
She shook her head, grasping for something—anything—that might give her hope. “No one will believe you. I’ll just tell them you’re lying.”
“Why would I lie about something like that? What possible reason would I have?”
“I don’t know! What reason do you have for telling everyone what actually happened anyway?”
He chuckled. “Isn’t that obvious? I want you, Natalie.”
“You could have had me! You didn’t have to resort to blackmail.”
“Now that’s where you’re wrong. You see, the way I want you isn’t like how you want me—though I suspect your feelings about me will have changed by now anyway.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I already told you, but you weren’t really listening.”
Tears of fear and confusion filled her eyes. “Told me what?”
“I want you to take care of me.”
“I....I could have done that.” She hated that she was crying. If she’d pictured herself in this situation, she would have imagined that she’d have punched him in the face and told him to go fuck himself, but he’d whipped the rug out from under her feet, unbalancing her. The one secret she’d worked harder at keeping than anything else in her life was no longer a secret.
It never had been.
She remembered her dreams, how often they featured someone just out of sight, lurking in the periphery. She’d always thought that was her guilt, but now she wondered if her subconscious had known someone else had been there. That she’d been seen.
“You can’t keep me prisoner here. People will miss me. My parents will know if I’ve gone missing, and they’ve met you. They’ll immediately link my disappearance to you.”
“Ah, but you’re making one fatal assumption. No one is going to think you’ve gone missing. In fact, they’ll know exactly where you are—with me. We can even go down to see your parents together. Won’t that be nice? They did so welcome me into their home last time, showing me all those photographs of your poor, dead brother. I imagine how heartbroken they’d be if you were to speak badly of me, only for them to learn the truth about what really happened that day.”
She stared at him, the horror of the web he’d woven falling around her.
“In fact,” he continued, “I think it would be good for us to go down together this weekend, don’t you? We can tell them the good news about you moving in here.”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t want you anywhere near them.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t your choice to make. You do as I say, or I’ll spill the beans.”
“They won’t believe you!”
He frowned, his head cocked slightly to one side. “Won’t they? What possible reason would I have to lie?”
“To keep me here! To make me do what you want.”
He chuckled. “Oh, Natalie. Have you looked in the mirror recently? You’re hardly a knockout, are you? Some mousy girl, who has no money, no decent job, not even her own home. Now look at me. You must be able to see that you’re batting well above your weight. There’s no way anyone would believe I’d be so desperate to have you that I’d make up such a terrible lie.”
“Then why do you want me? If I’m so plain and worthless? Why not go for a pretty girl who has everything going for her?” She realised she might be condemning some other innocent woman to this fate with her words, but she was too frightened to care.
“Lots of reasons. First of all, I didn’t witness any other girl push their brother off a bridge all those years ago. But actually, it’s more than that. I like how worthless you are. How you don’t mean anything to anyone, apart from the poor parents who would be utterly destroyed if they knew the truth about you. But also, I like how helpless and afraid I make you.”
“You like to see me afraid?”
A slow smile crept across his face. “Absolutely.”
Chapter Twenty
Natalie’s mind raced as she tried to figure out her options.
Kyle was a psychopath.
“Did you kill Mina and Sajad?” she dared to ask.
He frowned and twisted his lips. “Come on now, Nat. I thought you were smarter than that. Do you really think I’m going to admit something like that to you?”
“I could go to the police and tell them.”
“Tell them I killed Mina and Sajad? What proof do you have?”
“You don’t have any proof about what happened with Anthony either,” she blurted, feeling somewhere between desperate and triumphant.
“Ah, but having or needing proof means two different things in our situations. You see, the police would need proof to lock me up and keep me away from you, but I have no intention of getting you locked up. What would be the point? No, my pleasure is all about your pain, and what would cause you more pain than your beloved parents finding out the truth? The truth not only about what you did to Anthony, but also about what Anthony really wanted from you. How much would it break them to hear that their beloved son wanted to fuck their daughter, and she murdered him for it? I don’t need proof for that. Maybe they deliberately didn’t want to see what was going on, or perhaps they simply couldn’t admit it to themselves, but once they hear it out loud, they’ll know it’s the truth. They’ll look back and see all those tiny moments where the two of you were together for what they really were, and they’ll know the truth about both their children.”
“I’ll tell them you’re lying. They’ll believe me.”
“Do you really think that’ll work? Are you willing to take that chance?”
She balled her hand and pressed it to her mouth, struggling with tears. “You’re sick in the head.”
The doorbell rang, and she froze.
“Who is that?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I have no idea.”
“Well, I guess this is your first test. Go and answer the door.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Wipe your fa
ce, put on your brightest smile, and go and see what they want. If I get even a hint that you’re going to cause me problems, I’ll be straight on the M5 to pay a little visit to your parents. It’s such a good thing that they’ve already met me, don’t you think? And that I know exactly where they live.”
“Fuck you,” she snarled.
“That’s not how I expect you to speak to me, Natalie. I will punish you if you upset me.” The bell rang again, chiming through the house. “Now, go and answer the damned door.”
What choice did she have? Was there any possibility he wouldn’t go through with his threat of telling her parents what he’d seen all those years ago? She didn’t think so. He wouldn’t lose anything by telling them. Would the police be able to use forensics and see if Kyle’s recollection of events matched up? Could they tell how long Anthony’s body had been in the water before she called for help? It had been years now, and she doubted it, but there might be something in the case file she didn’t know about that would spark a lightbulb moment. It wasn’t even that she was afraid of going to prison. Of course, she didn’t want to, but more importantly for her it was about protecting her parents from the truth.
He shoved her in the back, and she stumbled forwards. “Okay, okay. I’m going.”
Natalie sniffed and wiped her face and quickly dragged her fingers through her hair. She would have to do. She schooled her expression into one of a welcoming smile and went to the door and opened it.
Another woman, slightly older than her, in her early forties, Natalie guessed, stood on the doorstep. She looked vaguely familiar, but Natalie couldn’t place where from.
“Yes?” Natalie asked, the smile rigid on her face.
“Oh, yes, hello. This is going to sound a little silly, but I just walked past, and I couldn’t help notice what’s written on the window.”
Natalie’s heart sank. Shit. She’d completely forgotten about that. The words saying ‘help, I’m locked in’ written in her red lipstick on the glass. She could hardly believe Kyle had missed it, too. He must have been so focused on his story that he hadn’t paid attention.
She was horribly aware of him, lurking behind her, farther down the hallway, just out of sight.
She gave a tinkling laugh that sounded nothing like her own. “Oh, how silly of me. I was playing a game the other night and I completely forgot to wipe it off. I’m sorry if it caused you alarm.”
“I wasn’t alarmed—just concerned and a little curious, I suppose.” She frowned and leaned slightly to one side, as though trying to see past Natalie and into the house beyond. “A man lives here as well, doesn’t he? Dark hair?”
“Kyle, yes, he does.”
“Did I hear my name?” Kyle’s voice travelled down the hallway as he approached. He came to stop beside Natalie. He slipped his arm around her waist, wedged her against his side, then offered the woman on the doorstep a beaming smile. “You’re Tina, aren’t you? From number eleven.”
She seemed flattered that he’d remembered her, a hint of pink rising to her cheeks. “Yes, that’s right.”
“I’m Kyle, and this is Natalie. Nat’s only just moved in, so it’s good for her to meet some of the neighbours.”
Natalie could barely believe this was happening. Inside, she was screaming, desperate to push Kyle away and run from the house, but on the outside she was frozen.
The woman didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong. “Welcome to the neighbourhood, Natalie.”
“Thanks,” she managed to say, still with that smile on her face. “It’s really lovely here.”
If you don’t take into account the psychopath living next door.
Tina’s gaze darted between them. “Well, since everything is fine, I’d better get on. It was nice to meet you both properly.”
“You, too,” Kyle called out to her retreating figure.
Then, with his hand still firmly around her waist, he drew Natalie back from the open doorway, and the possibility of freedom, and closed the door again.
“There,” he said. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“I hate you.”
His hand shot out, and his fingers looped around one of her curls. With speed and strength that shocked her, he tore the lock from her scalp. She cried out, clutching her hands to her head as though the pressure might somehow relieve the pain.
“That’s for not being nice,” he spat.
The hallway spun around her, her vision greying at the edges. She clutched blindly, but there was no one to hold her up. Her knees buckled, and she slumped to the floor.
Kyle stood over her, a clump of her hair hanging from his fingers. At the end of the clump was a bloodied little piece of her scalp.
Chapter Twenty-one
With tears streaming down her face, she crawled to the downstairs cloakroom. Clambering to her feet, she opened the door and threw herself inside and yanked the door shut on herself again. Frantically, she looked for a lock, but there wasn’t one.
She huddled down on the closed lid of the toilet, staring at the back of the door, waiting for Kyle to come after her.
When he didn’t, she pulled her knees up to her chest and just sat there, shaking. She lifted her hand to her head and touched the spot where he’d torn out her hair. The area was wet and matted with blood, and when she checked her fingers, the tips were red.
She ran the tap in the small corner sink and washed off her fingers, and then used some wadded toilet roll to clean up her head.
What the hell had happened to her life?
She couldn’t stay in the toilet forever. It wasn’t as though Kyle didn’t know she was in here. He could come after her whenever he wanted.
Unsure of what her next move was going to be, she eased open the bathroom door and peered out into the hallway.
Kyle had gone.
Was he somewhere else in the house?
Moving quickly and quietly, she crept around the property, checking each of the rooms, but there was no sign of him. She hadn’t heard the front door shut, but she’d been lost in a world of pain and misery, and yes, she felt sorry for herself.
Did she have any right to? Maybe this was the punishment she deserved. After all, she’d killed Anthony. He was a bully and a sex-pest, but did he deserve to die?
Did she?
Natalie went to the front door. She tried the handle, and this time it opened. She found herself looking out onto the street. Was this a trap? If she stepped out of the door, would Kyle go straight to her parents and tell them the truth about Anthony?
She wanted to not care. That was all it would take—just her not caring—and she could walk right out of here and never have to worry about Kyle again. But she loved her parents more than anything else. Maybe she should hate them. After all, they’d brought her into a world that had Anthony in it. They were even the ones who’d created Anthony. They’d loved him. But they’d also loved her, and no one else ever had. The people who were supposed to have loved her hadn’t even been able to take care of her, and instead, two complete strangers had opened up their home to her and given her a life.
Her mind was spinning as she tried to figure a way out of this. Kyle knew where her parents lived. Could she send them away somewhere he wouldn’t be able to find them? Now would be the perfect time for her to suddenly produce a cruise for the two of them where they wouldn’t be contactable. But she was broke, and even if she managed to send them somewhere that didn’t have any mobile reception, Kyle could still go to the police and tell them what he knew, and the police would go straight to her parents.
She was trapped, in a prison of her own making, and couldn’t see an escape.
Reluctantly, she closed the front door again, shutting herself back in the house.
What the fuck was she going to do?
Her mind reeled at the knowledge someone had known her darkest secret all this time and had been planning on using it against her. If there was one thing she knew for sure—she couldn’t let her parents find out a
bout what had happened. She’d do whatever it took to protect them, even if it meant sacrificing herself.
If you’d made that choice all those years ago and let Anthony do what he wanted, you wouldn’t be in this position now.
Maybe that was true, but where would it have ended? Anthony would never have left her in peace.
And now I have Kyle as a replacement.
Natalie put her face in her hands and cried. She wished she could see a way out of this but she couldn’t. Every path she looked down had her parents learning the truth at the end of it.
She cried herself dry then wiped her face and forced herself to think. She couldn’t just give up. There had to be a way out of this situation.
What kind of man was Kyle? Not a good one, that was for sure. He had something on her, but what if she could find something on him? They’d be equals then, and he’d have no choice but to leave her alone.
So, who was Kyle Detcher really?
She’d already established she knew nothing about him, but a man doesn’t spend nine years simply mulling over an incident he witnessed and waiting for the day he could use it against her. He must have been doing something during those years, and she doubted it would have been anything good. He was hardly the type of person to volunteer at a charity at the weekends.
What about his work? She knew nothing about that either, apart from that it was something to do with software and computing. Computers had never been her forte. She’d never really understood how it was all supposed to work.
He would have done something like this before, she was sure. Men didn’t get to his age and just decide to turn into a psychopath overnight. He would have some kind of history, but where could she find out? She thought there was probably a way she could look things up on the computer, but she couldn’t even get beyond the password screen, so that wasn’t going to work. She also had the feeling Kyle would have a way of knowing exactly what she’d done. If she set a foot wrong, he’d tell her parents about Anthony and break their hearts into a thousand pieces.