by M K Farrar
Three Days Earlier
“SHE’S COMING ROUND.”
A strange voice filtered through to her ears. A male voice.
What was a strange man doing in her flat? Her eyes were still shut, and the lids felt as though they’d been weighted down so she couldn’t quite open them. What had happened? Was she in her bedroom? The surface beneath her body felt cold and hard, and not like her bed at all. Had she suffered another blackout? Had she been drinking too much again?
“Oh, Livvy. Thank God.” She recognised Ellen’s voice.
Her mind raced, trying to put the pieces of what had happened back together again. Why was Ellen here?
Someone started to put something over her face, and the action was enough to bring her round fully. Her eyes shot open, and she pushed away at the thing trying to cover her face.
“Calm down,” the male voice said again. “It’s okay. My name is Stephen, and I’m a paramedic. This is just to give you a little extra oxygen.”
She suddenly became aware of the pain in her arms, and it all came flooding back to her. The man speaking to her was here to help, and there was someone else wearing the same uniform standing behind him. But how had they known what she’d done?
“We’re going to take you in,” he said, his voice calm, “get you checked out.”
Her stomach lurched at the idea of going into hospital.
She pushed the oxygen mask away again, needing to speak. When she lifted her arm, the lower half was swaddled in thick white bandages. “No, no. I’m fine. I’m okay.”
“You have some serious lacerations to your wrists. They may need stitches, so I’m afraid we’re going to have to insist.”
Her gaze sought Ellen’s. Her friend stood on the other side of her, her fingers to her mouth, her face filled with concern. “I’m okay, Ellen. I don’t need to go to hospital.”
“You tried to hurt yourself, Liv.”
“I don’t understand. How did you know?”
“I got scared when you weren’t answering, and came over.”
She tried to sit up straighter. “You what?”
“It’s okay. The front door was unlocked, and I found you in here. I was worried after you weren’t answering your phone, and after what happened with Tammy ... I couldn’t take any risks.”
She was still putting together the events leading up to this moment. Now she was coming around fully, she was able to take in her surroundings. There was blood. Too much blood. Surely that couldn’t have all come from her? It was streaked across the tiles and the sink and the floor. Red smeared over her clothes and across her skin. She spotted the smashed disposable razor. She’d done what she’d planned, so why hadn’t it worked? Would she be dead right now if Ellen hadn’t interfered?
You didn’t want to die.
A stretcher was brought in, and the paramedics lifted her up and onto it. They’d already bandaged her wrists when she’d been unconscious to stop the bleeding, so she couldn’t see how bad the cuts were. But she was alive, so she knew she hadn’t done that good a job.
“I can walk,” she insisted.
The male paramedic shook his head. “Sorry, ambulance rules.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Accident and Emergency.”
“It’s okay, Livvy,” Ellen said. “I’m coming with you.”
Ellen stayed beside the stretcher as she was carried out of the flat and down the stairs to the waiting ambulance outside. Liv cringed down, hating the stares of the passers-by, all trying to catch a glimpse of what had happened. She felt small and pathetic. She had done this to herself.
No, you didn’t. Michael did this to you, remember? He made you do it.
Yes, that was right. It was starting to come back to her. Michael had used that ability of his to tell her to hurt herself, and she hadn’t been able to stop the events he’d put into motion. Had he said something similar to Tammy when she’d overheard them fighting that day at the flat? Had he even told Holly Newie to go and throw herself off a cliff?
Liv’s mind blurred. What she was contemplating was insane. She knew exactly how it sounded. And with her history, no one would believe her. In fact, after this latest incident, they’d probably use it as more proof that she was unstable, and then she wouldn’t be released, and Michael would be out there, doing whatever the hell he wanted to the next person who upset him.
She was bundled into the back of the ambulance, Ellen climbing in with her. The sirens went on, and within minutes they were at the Accident and Emergency department.
Liv was embarrassed. This was too much fuss for her. She felt a bit dizzy, and her left arm was throbbing, but otherwise she didn’t think she needed medical attention. She was taken into a bay and transferred from the gurney onto a bed.
“Someone will be around to see you shortly,” the nurse who’d taken over from the paramedics told her. “Try to relax until then.”
“Am I allowed to stay?” Ellen asked her.
“Yes, that’s fine,” the nurse said with a reassuring smile. “Just try to let her get some rest.”
Ellen found a plastic seat and pulled it up alongside the bed. They were sharing the medical bay with a number of other patients, but everyone seemed to be ignoring each other.
“How did you find me?” she asked Ellen again, wanting to know every detail of what had happened to this point.
Ellen leaned out and held her hand. “I was worried about you after our fight. I called you and then the flat’s landline, and got no response. When I came round, the door wasn’t locked, so I just let myself in and found you like that. Perhaps I overreacted by calling the ambulance, but after everything that had happened with Tammy, I was worried. Why did you do it, Livvy? Why did you hurt yourself like that?”
“I didn’t.” Fresh tears filled her eyes, and the hospital ward swam around her. “It was Michael.”
Ellen’s eyes widened in horror. “What? Michael cut you like this?”
“No, but he made me do it. He told me to hurt myself, and I did. That’s what he does. I think he told another woman to hurt herself as well. She was called Holly Newie, and she vanished the other week and then turned up dead. I thought I saw them arguing a few weeks ago. And he got to Tammy, too. They didn’t kill themselves because they wanted to. They killed themselves because he made them.”
“Liv, do you know what that sounds like? Michael can’t have made them kill themselves.”
“He did. I don’t know how. It’s like he has this power of suggestion. He’s done it to me so many times, making me do things I wouldn’t normally. I don’t know if he’s a hypnotist, or if it’s some kind of magic, but it’s what he does, Ellen!” Her voice grew high pitched with panic.
“Okay, you need to calm down.”
“I can’t. Don’t you see? He thinks he’s dealt with me. What happens when he realises it didn’t work? He’ll come back for me, I’m sure he will.” She tightened her fingers around Ellen’s. “I’m frightened of him.”
Ellen’s lips were pressed together, her nostrils flared as she shook her head. “That son-of-a-bitch.”
“Please, don’t go near him. He’s dangerous.”
“We have to tell the police.”
“No, please, no police.” She didn’t want them to look into her background, knowing how it would appear. They’d find out about her past. Plus, what could she say—that she thought Michael had an ability to tell people what to do, and they just did it? She’d be laughed out of the station. No, worse than that. They’d assume she was ill again, and she’d end up back in that place. “Please, Ellen. Just leave it. No one is going to believe me.”
Ellen’s eyes were fixed on her face, searching hers, and Liv knew she was holding something back.
“What is it, Ellen?”
Her friend exhaled a sigh, as though relieved to have been asked. “Look, don’t be mad at me, but when you said about him and Tammy, I couldn’t help myself. I did a bit of digging into him. I think I know something else a
bout Michael, but I want to make sure my suspicions are correct first.”
“What are you talking about? You’re not going to confront him are you? Please, don’t, Ellen. He’s dangerous.”
She was terrified Ellen would try to say something to Michael. Ellen might find herself suddenly compelled to throw herself off the side of a cliff, or take an overdose of drugs, or slit her wrists in the bath.
“He’s not going to make me hurt myself, Livvy. Tammy was into drugs, and you’re ... well ... you.”
“What does that mean?”
Ellen squeezed her hand. “I’m only going to talk to him.”
“No! Can’t you see? That’s when he’s the most dangerous.”
Movement came from the foot of the bed, and a doctor appeared with a number of younger doctors trailing along behind him.
“This is Olivia Midhurst. Twenty-seven years old. She’s been admitted with lacerations to her inner wrists. Suspected attempted suicide.”
Her cheeks flared hot as numerous sets of eyes regarded her.
“Hi, Olivia,” the male doctor said, speaking to her directly now, where he’d only previously been talking to his colleagues. “I’m Dr. Collins. Mind if I take a quick look at you?”
Olivia shook her head and wished the thin mattress of the hospital bed would open up and swallow her.
Ellen released her hand and got up from her seat. “You need to get some rest.” She leaned in and gave Liv a quick hug. “I’ll come back first thing tomorrow and bring some of your things back in for you.”
“Wait, Ellen. What’s the other thing? What have you found out about him?”
But Ellen had already turned and walked away, her back vanishing through the doorway.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Tears of anger and frustration filled her eyes. She couldn’t let Ellen go and find Michael.
She turned her attention to the doctors. “I really am fine. I don’t need all of this. I didn’t mean to cause a fuss.”
Dr. Collins smiled down at her. “Before we can discharge you, we need to bring someone in to talk to you about what happened. We’re stretched thin right now, but we hope to have someone come in by the morning to see how you are.”
“How I am? You mean how I am mentally?”
“Yes. Your injuries are only superficial, but considering everything ...”
“I need to go. I’m fine, I promise. It was just a cry for help.”
He patted her arm. “And that’s why we’re going to get you some.”
“No, please. I need to go. My friend—”
He shook his head, his lips pressed together. “I’m afraid I’m really going to have to insist, Olivia. You know we can always get the police involved if you do try to leave before you speak to someone. You’ll be deemed at a risk to yourself.”
She snatched her arm away. “Fine, I’ll stay.”
“Glad to hear it. Now, try to get some rest, and someone will be around to speak with you in the morning.”
The doctor and his little group of followers moved on to the next bed, leaving Olivia frozen with impotent fear and anger. She needed to go after Ellen, but if she tried to leave now, the doctors and nurses would call the police and have her sectioned. If she ended up sectioned against her will, she could be in there for weeks, if not months, and Michael would be free to do whatever the hell he wanted.
What had Ellen learned about him? Had she done some online research after Tammy had died? Perhaps something she’d said had sparked Ellen’s suspicions, and she’d decided to check him out for herself.
Liv must have been one of the only people in the modern dating world who didn’t automatically Google and online stalk the men she was interested in. Perhaps it was because she’d hate the idea of someone doing that to her. She knew if someone Googled her name they’d discover Olivia Midhurst only came into existence a couple of years ago. Now, however, she was wondering if her lack of curiosity had been her downfall. From what Ellen had said, it sounded as though her friend had done a little digging of her own and found out some dirt on Michael. Was Ellen going to confront him now? Did that mean she knew where he lived or had she got his phone number? It wouldn’t have been difficult to get. All Ellen would have needed to do was check Olivia’s phone and she’d have quickly come across the number. The thought of Ellen confronting Michael terrified her. What if he did the same to her as he done to Tammy and God only knew how many women before her? Depression and suicide were a modern-day epidemic, and a death that looked as though it was done by their own hand wouldn’t be questioned.
She needed to get out of here, but she didn’t have anything with her. Her bag and phone were left back at the flat when she’d been brought here. She couldn’t even call Ellen to make sure she was all right. She needed to sneak out of the hospital, but she couldn’t do it right now. There were too many people around. She needed to wait until the night shift started and there were fewer doctors and nurses around. They’d already threatened to call the police if she tried to leave, so she needed to appear as cooperative as possible.
Time passed by frustratingly slowly. Every minute that went by was another minute Ellen might be in danger. Nurses came around to re-bandage and clean her arms. The doctors hadn’t used traditional stitches for her wounds, but instead had used a type of tape which held the cuts together. She caught a glimpse of them under her bandage. They weren’t as bad as she’d imagined, and they were even less on her right arm. Was that what had saved her life? If she’d managed to cut her right arm as well as the left, would she have died? Why hadn’t she gone all the way and slit the wrist of her right hand? Or even cut from her wrist to her elbow instead of across? Had she known, deep down, this was wrong, or had it simply been a practical thing that had saved her life? She remembered the blade getting slippery with blood and how difficult it had been to hold it while she was trying to cut herself. The next thing she remembered was waking up on the floor of her bathroom surrounded by the paramedics and Ellen. Had she passed out from the blood loss, or had she suffered another blackout? Perhaps she should have mentioned the blackouts to the doctors. She was surprised Ellen hadn’t said anything herself. Her friend probably hadn’t thought of it amid the latest chaos. The blackouts troubled her. She didn’t think she could put those down to Michael, even though they had only started once he’d come into her life.
Why was that? Had she subconsciously known she wouldn’t be able to handle having Michael in her life, or was there something physically wrong with her, and the events with Michael were just a coincidence?
The ward housekeeper brought her a tray of food—a slop of mess in two separate compartments that she didn’t even taste as she was eating. But Liv knew the routine and understood how this worked. If she ate, smiled, nodded, and made eye-contact, the staff would be less worried about her and were less likely to keep watch over her. The ones who were withdrawn and not eating were the ones they’d be watching more closely.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Three Days Earlier
THE HOURS WENT BY, and eventually the shifts swapped over, the day shift going home and leaving a more skeleton crew of the night shift. Lights were dimmed to allow people to sleep, and she knew her time to escape was fast approaching. She only hoped she wasn’t too late.
Thankfully, she hadn’t been prescribed any kind of sedative, and, other than the throbbing in her left wrist where she’d cut herself the worst, she felt physically all right. They’d given her a hospital gown for when they’d been working on her cuts, but the jeans and t-shirt she’d been wearing when she’d been brought in were packed into a bag beneath the hospital bed. Ellen had promised she’d bring clean clothes and toiletries in for her the following day, but Liv didn’t plan on being in hospital long enough for that to happen. Besides, if Ellen went to Michael first, there was a good chance she might not make it to Liv’s flat to get her belongings. If she pissed Michael off, there was no telling what he might do.
Liv threw b
ack the white hospital sheet and slipped out of bed. In her bare feet, she padded over to the railing which held the privacy curtain that ran along the rail attached to the ceiling. She knew it was a risk pulling it across, and that it might catch the nurses’ attention and make them think she was using the privacy to harm herself, but there didn’t look to be anyone around right now, and plenty of the other patients had done the same things to allow them some privacy while they slept.
Liv had no intention of sleeping, however.
Crouching, she pulled the bag containing her clothes out from under her bed. She worked quickly, her pulse racing, as she yanked off the hospital gown and swapped them for her t-shirt and jeans. Her stomach sank as she realised the clothes were covered in her blood. The red stains had dried dark—blotches of blacks and browns—but, together with her bandaged wrists, she looked as though she was dressed up for Halloween. She was bound to get unwanted attention like this.
Unsure what else to do, she picked the discarded gown back up, and pulled it over her clothes. The hem hung low, hiding most of her jeans, and the long sleeves hid her bandaged wrists. But the hospital gown meant she belonged at the hospital, and she was going to get noticed if she wandered out looking like this. She didn’t dare put her trainers back on yet in case someone asked her to get out of bed, or pulled back the sheets. The clothes she’d be able to hide or make an excuse for, but she wouldn’t be able to explain away wearing shoes.
She pulled back the privacy curtain again and quickly climbed back into bed and pulled the sheets over her legs to hide the bottom of her jeans. Someone would come around to check on her soon, and she wanted to appear as though she was sleeping, and therefore was nothing to be concerned about. If her drawing back the curtain had caught someone’s attention, then seeing her peacefully lying in bed should abate any concerns.
Liv warred with her desire to get the hell out of there, and her need to make sure no one noticed her leaving. It felt as though an hour or more had passed, but finally she heard the solid footsteps of sensible footwear as they walked past her bed. Liv froze, tense beneath the sheets, keeping her eyes shut and trying to make her breathing even. She hoped the nurse wouldn’t be able to hear the thunder of her heartbeat.