Shiver Sweet

by H Elliston

My brain swilled. Horror sparked and flashed like a tangle of light attacking my vision. I gulped for air.

  The man in front stepped closer, his beer-breath breezed over my bowed head. “Yeah. You sure have.” He fingered and sniffed my hair. “It’s a real shame. If you showered like that every day...”

  Head still hung, I blinked hard to overcome my water-blurry eyes and flinched away from his repulsive touch. “Get off me.” Scumbag.

  He lifted his chunky boots and before I could raise my leg to kick, he stamped my bare toes. A crushing pain shot across my feet, making my eyes water. I cried out.

  “No one can hear you. You should know that, out here with no neighbours.”

  He was wrong. What about Harry? Oh no, he was going out tonight. Bereft of power, my limbs locked by their bone-crunching squeeze and stomp, I tilted my head up, trying not to show my fear.

  The man was well-built with very short dark wavy hair and an inch long gash split one of his eyebrows in half. It was fresh, had barely scabbed over. He wore a navy padded jacket over jeans and was so close we were practically rubbing noses. That cut...? And his face? Why did...? Christ, I’d touched it! “You, you’re the one who crashed your car in the snow last night, near my house.”

  He gritted his teeth and sighed.

  “B-but we helped you. I cleaned the cut on your eye.” I stared at him and got nothing in response. Oh my God. The timing, him being near my house last night... “Are you the one who attacked Nicola?”

  He looked away. “No, but... Anyway, the house was supposed to be empty. We didn’t plan on hurting anyone.”

  “Well you did.” I glared at him. “She didn’t deserve it. And now you’re hurting me.” I sharpened my voice. “What do you want? Money?”

  He shook his head and met my gaze again. “Look, this isn’t my call.” A disgusting swirl of beer-breath blew into my face. “I’m afraid you’ve just-”

  “Shut up!” The other said. “He’ll hear you.”

  “He can’t.”

  “I promise I’ll keep quiet.” My lips trembled, and I shuddered at hearing Nicola cry downstairs. “Please let us go. I won’t tell anyone about the website, the attack... any of it.”

  His mouth flattened into a hard line. “It’s nothing to do with the website. Not this time.”

  I stared into his eyes. “Then what? Who...?”

  He ran a hand through his hair and nodded toward the landing.

  Was someone downstairs calling the shots? “So what? You’re following orders? Do you want to go down for murder because some other guy tells you to?”

  “You’ve pushed his sister’s buttons tonight, showboating. Dale, he-”

  “Shut up!” the other man said.

  Scab-man shrugged. “What’s it gonna matter?”

  “Who’s Dale?” I asked. “Who’s his sister? She was watching me in the shower?”

  No one answered.

  “Please. At least tell me why you’re going to...” I paused. Watching me? The camera! Nicola hadn’t touched the one in my bedroom. “D... did y-you forget you’re being filmed?”

  Scab-man’s gaze touched mine for a second, and his jaw clenched.

  “How’s it feel to be the star of your own show?” I stuck out my chin in defiance.

  His eyes shot up to the corner behind me.

  “Smile,” I said, grasping at any idea to make these men slip up so I could gain my freedom.

  “It doesn’t matter. No one would dare call it in. Besides, we’re gonna rip them out.”

  “But they’re not out yet. Not even one of your subscribers has a conscience?” I said in a hard, rusty voice.

  With both men now seemingly trapped in thought and steering sideways to the camera, I had to seize the moment. With my hands still held behind my back, I grabbed a chunk of flesh somewhere around his groin and dug in my fingernails.

  He jerked and bent forward, releasing me. “Bitch.”

  A pair of glasses tumbled onto my shoulder and down to the floor. I tilted my head up and spat at the guy in front.

  The pressure of his boots on my toes eased as he shut his eyes.

  I wrenched myself free and made a run for the door. But something, or someoone tripped me up. I slapped belly-down onto the carpet, aching all over.

  Both men grabbed me and flipped me onto my back.

  The guy who’d lost his glasses leaned over my head and pinned my arms down, grunting like a pig. “Fuck, I can’t see a thing.”

  Scab-man sat his full weight across my thighs, and winked. “Nice try.”

  I tried to buck him off. Agony ploughed through my muscles so much I thought I’d faint. “Stop! P-please, get off me,” I burbled, my eyes filling with tears, my head a tsunami of pressure.

  Scab-man wiped spittle off his cheek. “Do that again, and we’ll break your fucking legs.” His eyes darkened to hard points of fury, his mouth twisted into a frown.

  The man pinning my arms whistled to signal someone.

  Scab-man grabbed the pair of glasses and hooked them onto the other man’s face.

  “Cheers,” he said. “Wife’d kill me if I lost these.”

  “Wife?” I cried, glaring up at the inverted face. “What the... Let me go.”

  “We’ve got her,” The spectacled man shouted to whoever was downstairs. “What now?”

  No reply came for a few seconds, then, “Keep her there. I’m bringing the other one up.”

  I looked at the guy sitting on my thighs. Why would he threaten to break my legs and not threaten to...? I wasn’t dead yet. Perhaps killing me wasn’t their plan, perhaps...

  Oh God.

  Yes. They had plasters wrapped around their fingers to hide prints, but Nicola had said they wore masks last time. Not tonight. That could only mean one thing. And whoever intended to finish me off was on his way up. “I’ve got a child, a family,” I pleaded. “People rely on me. I’ve done nothing bad to you.”

  His face pinched. “He just wants to talk. You’ve really pissed his sister off.”

  “Talk?” I shrieked. “Is that what he told you? And you believe him?” Tears rolled down my cheeks and into my ears. Were these guys really that naive? “You know what happened to my husband, right?”

  Spectacle guy bit his lip. “Things just got out of hand. Dale, he...”

  “Exactly!” Frustration seared through my body. “Dale. The guy who’s on his way up.”

  CHAPTER 30

  CHRISTA

  After throwing us into Sarah’s bedroom, two men followed Dale across the landing.

  One man yelled through the closed door, “Dale wants us to rip the cameras out first. Don’t be long.”

  “Be out in a minute,” Scab-man said. He hurriedly slapped tape across my mouth before tugging the tape tighter around my wrists, checking his handiwork.

  Nicola whimpered behind me.

  Scab-man stalked to Sarah’s desk and pulled the phone cord out of the wall. After throwing the phone across the room, he raised a boot-clad foot and kicked the phone socket. With a crack, the faceplate split down the middle. “Don’t cause any trouble or Dale’ll totally lose it.”

  No kidding. I pleaded with my eyes, help us, we helped you.

  “Look, I...” He clenched his jaw, then left and closed the door.

  Bastard.

  Sitting back to back with Nicola on the carpet, our wrists bound together with tape, I jerked and pulled, trying to wrench us apart. No use. Struggling to breathe through my nose, I pushed my tongue against the tape that covered my mouth. It wasn’t stuck properly on account of the tears on my face. After a frustrating moment of pushing with my tongue and stretching my lips apart, the tape flapped loose on one side. I inhaled deeply, the air welcome as it whooshed into my lungs.

  “Nicola,” I whispered, turning my head.

  A muffled cry came from her tape-covered mouth.

  “Lean closer. I’ll try to pull it off with my teeth.”

  She nodded and turned her cheek my way.
>
  Pressing back against her shoulder, I craned my neck to its limit. It hurt, but I managed to squash my nose into her cheek and feel for the tape with my tongue and teeth. Finally, I had the corner of the tape pinched between my teeth and whipped it off.

  “Ouch,” she said, then slumped and took deep breaths.

  “You okay?”

  “No.”

  “Are you injured?”

  “Well, I ache from head to toe, and I’ve scraped my... I’m okay.”

  I wiggled my fingers against hers. “Look around for something to cut this tape off our wrists.” I scanned the floor, spotted a tennis racket, fluffy slippers, clothes and books strewn around. Sarah wasn’t the tidiest of teenagers so there had to be something of use within reach.

  “We’re out of time,” Nicola said. “We’re not leaving here alive.”

  “Don’t say that. Don’t... hush.” I nudged her on hearing voices on the landing. I closed my eyes and tried to pick out their words.

  “Done the bedrooms.”

  “Let’s help Rick remove the cameras downstairs... tried to trick us... sneaky little...”

  “Dale, you really gonna-“

  “It’s not up for debate.” Footsteps tapped across the landing and descended the stairs. Phew.

  “They’re terrified. I don’t think they’d say anything.”

  “Too late.”

  “Just hear me out...” The voices faded.

  Jesus. We had probably five minutes before that asshole Dale steamed back upstairs and murdered us.

  “Oh God.” Nicola broke into tears. “I can’t fight anymore. I’m so tired.”

  “Don’t say that. Just help me look.”

  “We’re stuck here. It’s useless.” Deep, choking sobs burst out of her. “Oh, maybe I’d be better off dead.”

  “What? Why would you say such a thing?”

  She sniffed. “I’m a joke. My life’s pointless. Can’t afford my own place. Single yet again. If the only thing I’m good for is entertaining men on a sleazy website...”

  Oh, no. There could not have been a worse moment to break down. I had to perk her up. “Your work colleagues like you, and Dave’s certainly got a smile for ya. A panty-dropping one as I recall,” I said, trying anything to lift her mood.

  “Until he realises what a loser I am.”

  I turned my neck, trying to lock eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “I got fired.” She looked over her shoulder. Reddened eyes stared at me from under glistening lashes. “The world won’t be any worse off if I’m not in it.”

  I wanted to hug her. “Now you listen to me! You’re worth fifty of those men! You’re not useless.”

  “I am,” she said, her tone disbelieving.

  “Stop this! Look at everything you’ve done to help me and... and...” Oh, we don’t have time for this.

  “Yeah, but...”

  “You’re great with Sarah, and you’re the only person in this world who keeps me sane. That’s not an easy job! And no matter what, I know you have a good heart. D’ya think I don’t know you’ve been trying to drum up new business for me?”

  “You know about that?”

  “One of my customers told me that a charming and sexy brunette handed him a flyer in town last week.”

  Her shoulders bobbed.

  Was that a laugh? A smile? “There aren’t many folk who’d stand in town in winter helping a friend for free. And that isn’t the sign of someone who’s ready to give up.”

  She sniffed. “I’ve maxed my credit cards, used up my overdraft... They’ll repossess my car soon.” All hope and confidence had left her voice.

  Oh, no. What was this, the last confession?

  I knew she’d been through hell but I couldn’t let her give up, I loved her and couldn’t handle these men alone. “Okay, so you’re jobless, penniless, single and might lose your car... so bloody what? Success and status aren’t the only things that define you.” I angled my head, trying to work out where the men were. “If you’ve hit rock bottom, there’s no where left to fall, right?”

  She cried again, accelerating my frustration and drowning out all sound from below. “We’ll never make it. We’ll not get out of here alive.”

  “Shush, shush.” I battled the urge to yell at her, instead, I searched for words to bring forth the fighting spirit these men had stolen. “You’re a fighter, Nicola. Look what you’ve been through since last night... You could have jumped into your car and taken off, left me and Sarah in this house, but you didn’t. You stayed to protect us and fight, and you can do it again.”

  “I didn’t have a choice,” she mumbled.

  “Yes. You did. To me, loyalty and love is a currency worth so much more than money.”

  “B-but...”

  “No buts. You’re welcome in my house for as long as you want. In fact, stay forever!” I flinched on hearing deep, angered voices downstairs.

  “I knew you’d go too far, Dale,” one of them said. “You’re a hothead and you’ve had too much to drink. Don’t wave that at me!”

  “You didn’t have a problem earlier,” Dale hollered. “We’re gonna kill ‘em, clean up and get outta here.”

  “You’ve lost it. She’s got a child.”

  “Cool it, you two,” another man said. “Let’s just get Henry on the phone and settle it.”

  “Already tried,” a fourth man said. “Phone’s switched off.”

  I whispered to Nicola over my shoulder, “There’s someone else in charge. He’s called Henry, but he’s not here.”

  “And that helps us how?” Nicola mumbled.

  I couldn’t answer.

  Heat stung my cheeks as I sat listening. My anxiety level spiked with every angry shout from the men downstairs debating our fate.

  “That man Dale,” I whispered. “He’s a walking volcano. He could be the one who killed John. I think he’s a rogue.”

  “Rogue?”

  “Yes.” This made sense. The other men seemed to be gunning for just frightening us into silence. “We have to make a run for it now before he talks them into it.” I scanned the floor again, seeking a cutting tool. “What’s it to be, Nicola?”

  Her shoulders bobbed against mine. She was still crying.

  “Fine then. Sit here. But if you give up, I die too.” I wiggled my bound hands against hers. “I can’t exactly leave without you.”

  “I don’t want to... I-I just want...”

  “Then live!” I nudged her elbow with mine. “If they wanna kill us, I’ll be damned if I make it easy for them. The Nicola I knew would fight ‘til the last breath and then laugh in their faces. Think of Sarah, think of... ”

  “Yes. Sarah needs you,” she said no louder than a whisper.

  “Actually, she needs both of us. Please help me.”

  Her shoulders rose against mine. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Let’s shuffle across the room,” I said.

  “My feet are taped to the bed.”

  Damn. “If we lean to one side d’ya think you’ll be able to see under the bed? God knows what horrors are under there, but hopefully-“

  “I doubt Sarah has a knife.”

  “Just try, will you?” I leaned to the left until my arm was resting on the floor. “Anything?”

  “Wait a sec. Ouch, my elbow, and something’s sticking in my...” She groaned then gasped. “Sit up, sit up.”

  “What is it?” I raised myself up.

  “Can you feel my back pocket?”

  “What’s in it?”

  “My lighter.”

  I brightened. This was the only time I was thankful she’d started smoking again. “Shift your arms to the side.” I felt for her pocket, stuffed two fingers in and gripped the lighter. “Keep still.” I pulled it out and spun it in my fingers until my thumb sat on the striking wheel. “This might hurt.” I flicked the wheel to strike a flame, pressed the gas button and blindly angled the lighter at Nicola’s wrists to burn the tape.

 
“Shit, ouch,” she cried. “Careful.”

  “Sorry.” My nervous thumb slipped off the gas button. I struck it again.

  Nicola pulled at the tape and wriggled behind me. “Ooh... that’s hot,” she said, then her wrists pulled apart, but were still attached to mine. “Let me try.” Nicola took the lighter.

  Heat stung my wrists. “Ouch. Jeez.”

  “Sorry, sorry.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Keep going.” Some seconds later, we were free.

  I twisted around and rubbed my sore wrists. “Good job. Hurry.” We untied our feet, and I scuttled across the room to Sarah’s chest of drawers. “Help me?”

  Nicola raced over and we pushed it up behind the door. “What now?” Nicola asked. “The window?”

  I grabbed the phone, scrambled across the room and knelt in front of the phone socket.

  “It’s broken,” Nicola whispered. “Leave it.”

  I plugged the phone into the cracked socket. No dial tone. “Find me a...” I rooted through Sarah’s basket of niknaks on her desk while Nicola pushed the sash window up and stared out.

  “Oh God,” she groaned. “Think we can make those bushes?”

  “Aha.” I found a flat metal hairclip. This will do. Back on my knees and with shaking hands, I unscrewed the plastic faceplate from the wall socket using the slim end of the hairclip.

  “Christa, we’re wasting time. Let’s go.”

  I shook my head. “That’s concrete down there!”

  “Then let’s... run to my room. We could climb down the trellis outside.”

  “They’ll hear us on the landing.” With a final turn, the faceplate came off.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Saving us.” If my internet had not died earlier in the year, causing me to phone my provider and complain, I would not have known about the second phone point concealed behind the faceplate, used by engineers to test the line.

  And there it was.

  I plugged in the phone and held the receiver to my ear. “It’s working.” I smiled up at Nicola and dialled 999. “Police, please,” I said, then turned on hearing a rumbling sound in the walk-in wardrobe. I dipped down behind the desk and waved at Nicola. “Hide.”

  While I whispered on the phone, Nicola picked up a tennis racket and flattened her back against the wall behind the wardrobe door.