by Anna Willett
“How are we going to get that thing back in place once you leave?” Eli and Jace looked at the fridge, it had obviously been a struggle for the two men to move it.
“Shit.” Jace’s shoulders slumped.
“We’ll manage.” Eli shrugged. “If we can’t shift it, we’ll get Felix to help.”
With everyone in agreement, there was nothing left to discuss. Caitlin volunteered to go upstairs and retrieve the car keys from their travel bag.
She left the brothers in the kitchen and headed through the sitting room. As she made her way towards the staircase, she recalled her first impressions of the house. She’d been so impressed by its vastness and the wealth it represented, now the oversized rooms and high ceilings gave her the creeps. She felt vulnerable and exposed in the rambling structure. There were so many places to hide, so much space to cover. Anyone could be lurking in the house and they’d never know it. We spent all afternoon here and most of the evening before we realised someone was locked in the cellar.
Taking the stairs two at a time, she hurried up to the landing. The upstairs lights illuminated the long expanse well enough for her to find their room, but not enough to chase all the shadows away. She paused on her way along the L-shaped walkway and listened. This far from the kitchen, she could hear nothing but the distant clicking of insects and a faint but regular cry of an owl. The sounds might have been comforting, but instead reminded her of how far away from the city they were.
Once in the bedroom, she knelt on the soft grey carpet and pulled the travel bag towards her. There was no need to search, the keys were safely stowed in the side compartment. For once, Eli’s attention to detail and habit seemed less annoying. Placing the keys in her lap, Caitlin took hold of the zip when an idea struck.
Instead of closing the zip, she reached into the pocket and found her husband’s phone. She’d read somewhere that it was possible to send a text message even if the signal was weak. If it worked, she could send their address and a request for help to emergency services. Her stomach flipped with a tiny flutter of excitement. The prospect of getting help and escaping from the house before anyone got hurt made her realise how terrified she’d become.
Unlocking the phone was easy, Eli’s password was the same as his pin number. The green bar on the top right of the screen told her the phone was almost fully charged. She whispered a thank you to the empty room and typed in 000. It would be best, she decided to keep the message short.
Attacked by man with gun. Need help.
She followed up with the address and hit send. Almost as quickly as her hopes rose, they were dashed. The message failed to send. Caitlin sank onto her butt and crossed her legs. She heaved a sigh that came from deep in the pit of her belly and willed herself not to cry. Jace and Eli were waiting for her. There would be no talking them out of the plan. Jace would go outside and take his chances with Blyte. In theory, it was a sound idea—the only idea they had. But a creeping feeling of dread spread over her and with it came a flat certainty that something would go wrong.
The phone was useless, help wasn’t coming. She reached out and almost put the phone back where she’d found it when Eli’s words popped into her mind. He’d called her a slut. If she hadn’t heard it with her own ears, she wouldn’t have believed he was capable of saying such a thing. Not about her.
For months he’d been distant, almost contemptuous. She’d had no idea what he knew about her and how that knowledge had twisted his feelings. What else was he hiding? Do I want to know? That was the problem with secrets, once they were out, there was no turning back.
She almost shoved the phone back in the side compartment, but a small voice in her head, whispered. If he hasn’t touched me since before I lost the baby, who has he been touching? She opened his messages and didn’t even have to scroll through them to find the answer.
Can’t wait for you to get back. Miss you already. XXX
The message was from someone named Sherri. Caitlin stared at the words as if they might jump around on the screen, morph into something that didn’t set her teeth on edge. She scrolled through and read Eli’s response to Sherri.
When I get back, we’ll go out for dinner. Somewhere nice. I’m picturing you in that red dress! You look otherworldly!!! Driving me crazy. XXX
Her hands shook making it difficult to swipe the screen. There were other messages. Some she’d sent herself asking Eli if he was going to be home late again or reminding him to pick her up from work because her car was being serviced. In each instant, her mundane message was rewarded with little more than a one-word answer: yes, no, or okay. But so many words for Sherri.
Otherworldly. The word reverberated in her brain like a bullet ricocheting in a metal cylinder. She stuffed the phone back in the bag and pulled the zip closed. How had she been so unseeing? So weak? The urge to crawl into the unmade bed and draw pain around herself surfaced. What did it matter if they were prisoners in this house? She’d be a prisoner wherever she went. This feeling, self-loathing mixed with betrayal and grief, was now her future. Why bother fighting for it?
Her hand dropped to her belly. I couldn’t even get that right. Could she really blame Eli for going elsewhere? Maybe Sherri, whoever she was, gave him things Caitlin never could. Was he planning a future with the woman? For some reason, her mother’s face jumped into her mind. Once pretty, her features blurred and bloated by alcohol and bitterness. All men are bastards, even the nice ones. How many times had she heard those words coming out of her mother’s mouth?
The air in the bedroom tasted thick, difficult to swallow. Caitlin ran her hands over her face, stretching the skin as she pushed her head through a layer of painful memories. She recalled something else her mother once said. Speech slurred, barely making sense but still able to hold a glass, Linda Blackson was never one to know when enough was enough. Not when it came to alcohol or men. If she did, she never let it stop her.
“I was like you.” Linda’s watery blue eyes had fixed on Caitlin then bobbed drunkenly with the effort of focusing. “Sweet.” She’d laughed then coughed, a rattling smoker's hack. “Sweet attracts sour.” She swept her arm wide, almost spilling her drink. “That’s why I’m in this shit hole.” Caitlin wasn’t sure if she meant the dingy two-bedroom rental on the edge of town or the town itself. Both were falling apart and neglected.
“I lost myself.” Her mother flopped down next to her on the sagging sofa. “I never knew how to claw my way back so I just kept falling.” The smell of cigarettes mixed with whiskey had made Caitlin’s stomach churn. “Don’t be like me. Be the woman I should have been.” She patted Caitlin’s bare knee. “You’re smart, but you keep it quiet. You show them what you can do.”
Her hand slipped off Caitlin’s knee. Within seconds, her mother’s breathing had deepened. Caitlin leaned over and took the glass out of Linda’s hand. By the time she set it on the side table, her mother was snoring.
Caitlin looked around the bedroom with its expensive furnishings and plush carpet. Eli’s clothing, stacked neatly on top of the chest of drawers stirred something in her. She stood and swiped his belongs onto the floor. It was a petty thing to do but it gave her a second of satisfaction. She thought of the way she’d clung to Eli, turning herself inside out to please him. Not just in the last few months but for most of their marriage. She’d let him become her entire world, giving up her own wants and needs to please him. Her mother was right about one thing, they were alike. Both lost, living half-lives dependent on men to fulfil them.
Caitlin held the keys to her chest and opened the bedroom door. The pain and shock of betrayal still stung, like an open welt submerged in vinegar. But, instead of sinking under the misery of betrayal, Caitlin intended to claw her way out. Out of the mess her marriage had become and out of Blyte’s house.
She was half-way to the staircase, mind racing with images of her husband’s body pressed against another woman, when she realised someone was on the landing. Her heart jumped and the keys tumbled f
rom her hand, jingling then landing with a muted clunk on the carpet.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Felix’s frame blocked the walkway, face half in shadow.
Off balance by his sudden appearance, Caitlin found herself unable to speak. For a moment, there was silence.
“I—What are you doing?” The question came out sounding shrill, almost panicked. “I mean, why are you up here?” She tried to calm herself but her voice shook.
“I’m looking for the toilet.” His tone was apologetic or was it amused? His swollen mouth made it difficult to tell.
“There’s a powder room behind the staircase on the ground floor.”
“Oh.” She waited for him to turn and walk towards the staircase, but he remained rooted to the spot. “What are you doing with those keys?” His head moved, but she couldn’t quite see his face.
Caitlin looked down at her hand, confused by his question. Then realising he meant the car keys, she gave an awkward laugh. “We…” She hesitated, not sure if she should be sharing their plans with him. Remembering Blyte’s words, she asked her own question. “Who’s Amy?”
He showed no signs of reacting to the name. “I don’t know. Why do you ask?” Again, he managed to put her on the spot.
She wanted to be done with the conversation but didn’t know how to extricate herself from the situation without being out-right rude. “Just a name I heard.” She tossed the keys and then caught them. “I’ve got to go, my husband’s waiting for me.”
She stepped forward, expecting Felix to either turn and head down stairs or step aside. He did neither, forcing her to shuffle past him brushing against his arm. The smell she’d originally noticed in the study, earthy and laced with something metallic hit her again, only this time closer and more pungent. A snapshot flashed through her mind. Sunlight through a car window, girlish voices singing. The image almost swamped her.
Memories swirled, fuelled by the smell, familiar and alien at the same time. Still reeling from the shock of discovering her husband’s deceit, Caitlin couldn’t afford to let the dark thoughts surface.
“Excuse me,” she made her voice calm but firm and strode past Felix.
Once on the stairs, she felt a small measure of control return. Be the woman I should have been. She focused on her mother’s words. Her knees shook. But for her firm grip on the banister, she might have taken a tumble. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t allow herself to be paralysed by the past.
* * *
Jace held the poker he’d used to break the lock in the cellar. The brothers had pushed the fridge back from the door allowing just enough room for Jace to squeeze through and out onto the deck.
“Okay,” Jace’s voice was sombre, but his eyes were wide and the sweat patches on his shirt had grown. There was a tear along the neckline where Eli had grabbed him. “You both know what to do, right?”
Caitlin nodded, she couldn’t bring herself to look at her husband.
“If anything goes wrong, I’ll make for the trees and circle back around when it’s safe.”
“Maybe you should take the gun,” Eli sounded breathless. “Then if he shoots at you, at least you can defend yourself.”
“No. If something goes wrong, you’ll need it.” He reached out and took hold of the doorknob. “Sorry about hitting you.” He spoke to his brother with a nervous finality that made Caitlin’s heart flutter. It was as if he wasn’t expecting to come back and wanted to set things right.
She forced herself to look at Eli. His face was pale under the kitchen light; he looked tired—older all of a sudden. In spite of everything, she felt a pang of sympathy for him. Whatever he’d done to her, she didn’t doubt how much he loved his brother.
“Forget it.” He waved a hand in front of his face. “Just don’t take any chances.”
“Be careful.” It was stupid really, but she couldn’t think of what else to say apart from don’t get killed.
Jace gave her a weak smile and opened the back door. A band of cool night air wafted into the stuffy kitchen. She wished she could slip outside, just for a moment and breathe in the clean air. Suddenly, staying barricaded in the house seemed worse than taking their chances with Blyte.
Jace turned side-on and slipped through the narrow opening. She thought of darting out after him, running down to the river. Going anywhere as long as she was out of the house and away from Eli. Before she could force her jittering legs to move, the door whispered closed and Jace was gone.
In the silence that followed, she strained to hear her brother-in-law’s movements. Faint sounds, feet moving over the deck? Or maybe it was the blood pumping in her ears.
“He’ll be okay,” Eli broke the silence, speaking as if she’d asked a question. She wondered if he was reassuring her or himself.
Chapter Seven
Twin bars of artificial light tumbled from the high-set kitchen windows, hitting the deck in pearly lines. The shallow light was enough for Jace to make his way to the steps leading down to the grass. Beyond that, there was mostly blackness. He’d barely reached the edge of the platform before he realised his flip-flops had to go. Why didn’t I put my trainers on? It seemed like such and obvious thing to do, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before.
He kicked off the noisy rubber beach sandals and padded down the steps. The night air played over his arms and face, drying the sweat that clung to his skin like a soggy blanket. In the distance, he thought he caught a glimpse of the water, but with almost no moonlight, it was difficult to be sure.
He turned left and began following the faint outline of bushes towards the corner of the house. It had only been three weeks since he’d worked on building the deck, so the garden layout was still fresh in his mind. He knew the back of the house was flanked by bushy shrubs. Still he moved slowly, taking a few steps then stopping to listen.
Once he reached the corner, light from the sitting room windows spilled in narrow shafts, dotting the way forward. If Eli and Cat were doing their part, they’d be near the front door keeping Blyte occupied. He glanced back. The deck looked distant, little more than a silver smudge in the dark. If anything went wrong, would he have time to make it back? Even if he did reach the back door, he doubted Eli and Cat could move the fridge and let him in before Blyte was on top of him.
Micky Blyte wasn’t living in the house when Jace worked on the deck, but the man had shown up a few times to check on the tradesmen. Jace only spoke to him once, but had the distinct impression he was hard-bitten, maybe ex-military. Physically, Blyte was only a little bigger than average. Jace definitely had a height and weight advantage, but Blyte had the look of someone who knew how to handle himself—something in his eyes and the way he carried himself. Jace didn’t want a confrontation with the guy, not if he could help it.
He stepped around the corner of the house. It would be safer to stay out of the light, so Jace made the decision to go wide and skirt just beyond the rectangles of illumination. That way, he could still follow the line of the house but wouldn’t risk being seen.
He moved right, crouched slightly and slipped amongst the trees. The sound of his bare feet on the dry leaves and twigs seemed deafening against the dull clicking and chirping of insects. He stepped forward, trying to come down on his toes, but it seemed however he moved, there was no escaping the noise. A few more steps and a needle of pain shot through his big toe.
He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth and stooped low. Cursing himself for not putting on shoes, he felt his injured toe. His fingers found something sharp, by the feel of it a small stick, wedged under his toenail. Grasping the stick, he took a breath and pulled. The pain flashed through his foot, white-hot in its intensity as a small shaft of dry wood tore through the soft flesh beneath his toenail.
He straightened and realised his fingers were slippery with blood. Grateful it was too dark to see the damage to his toe or the blood, he wiped his hand on the front of his t-shirt and moved forward. Ten metres or so and he�
�d be at the front of the house. He glanced up at one of the rectangular windows. Eli and Cat would be in position now, waiting to hear the double beep as he unlocked the car. He took another step and froze. Somewhere in the dark, a twig snapped.
Blyte had heard him and was somewhere nearby moving in on him. It was the only explanation. He considered running, breaking from the trees and barrelling toward the front of the house. His head whipped right. Had something rustled in the unseen branches? His breath came in pants, shallow and fast.
Another crackle, this time behind him. He had to make a decision: move or stay frozen and wait to be discovered. He could feel trails of sweat running down his neck and sides. Resisting the urge to bolt like a wild rabbit, he took a step forward, then another. It was only a few metres to the edge of the building. If he could make it that far, the car would be in sight.
Jace reached the front of the house. There had been no more rustling or movement from the trees or surrounding bush, but something was wrong. At this distance, he should have been able to hear Blyte talking to Eli. Jace ran his fingers over his face wiping the moisture away as he tried to think. Just because Blyte wasn’t answering, didn’t mean he wasn’t there. Jace swapped the poker from one hand to the other and rubbed his sweaty palm on the leg of his shorts.
Like the side of the building, the windows at the front were set at least a head taller than Jace. He could see snatches of the gravel driveway and a few patches of grass, beyond that the outlines of both vehicles were little more than inky blurs. The smaller of the two shapes had to be Eli’s car. Jace would have to make it past the other vehicle and then around the car to the driver’s seat.