I thought of the woman’s chances of survival with only me to protect her. No matter what trouble I would land myself in, I had to consider the option of calling in the police. I couldn’t let an innocent woman die leaving her mother heartbroken and her children orphans’.
Without stopping or even checking left and right, the woman suddenly crossed over. She appeared to be heading towards a small estate on the right. I knew the area; It wasn’t a bad area, but you wouldn’t find the well-off living round there. The houses were fairly small but rather well kept. The way the houses lined the street, they kind of reminded me of Lego houses.
Just as I thought, the woman headed straight into the estate. Ever more nervous since I knew this road ended in a cul-de-sac, I crept slowly behind her.
In spite of the recent events occurring in my life, someone up there seemed to be looking out for me, or at least for the woman.
Not one car had come by since I’d started following her.
I gasped as the woman suddenly stopped and turned towards me. My van jerked to a stop as her eyes travelled over the vehicle, stopping on me. I leaned back in my seat, knowing she wouldn’t be able to see my face and that I’d probably just look like a shadow to her. I held my breath as the woman’s face registered a troubled frown. I sweated. Her frown deepened―then she stepped off the curb and crossed the road. Walking away on the opposite side of the road, she didn’t once glance back at me.
I let out the breath I’d been holding and sagged in my seat. Relieved as I was, the woman’s behaviour bothered me. Okay, so I didn’t expect her to approach me and ask what the hell was I doing, but I would have expected fear, weariness. I would’ve expected her to constantly check over her shoulder as she hurried away, maybe get her phone out to call someone and tell them she was being followed home. Hell at that point I wouldn’t have blamed her for walking backwards in order to keep her eye on me. But, she merely carried on walking, seemingly undisturbed by the large white van that crawled up the road after her.
This woman was every kidnapper’s dream victim.
I was busy scolding her in my mind, wondering how I was going to protect her for what felt like the 100th time, when she suddenly dashed up a garden path, ran to the front door and began to unlock it. Now she looked back at me, fear evident on her face. I held my breath again as she vanished inside the house and slammed the door shut.
She had registered me as a potential threat and feared me accordingly. What if she was on the phone to the police right now? I needed to leave!
I couldn’t bring myself to do it as I wondered how I’d live with myself after staring at her face on the TV in the morning, the news-reader sharing all the gory details of her horrific murder.
The curtains twitched in the front room window; I clearly saw the woman peering out at me. I had probably vanquished all her suspicions then: here I sat, still in the same place in the middle of the road staring at her house. If I didn’t leave sometime soon, I would definitely be talking to the police, and that thought numbed me with anxiety. They already had my van parked at the location of a double homicide with witnesses who saw me following one of the victims; they’d be all over me like a rash if this woman called them and reported me. How the hell would I explain following this woman?
The police would surmise that I was stalking my next victim.
I ran some possibilities though my mind, even thinking of parking my van and walking back here to keep watch on the woman. I was thinking what a terrible idea that was and how vulnerable I’d be when or if the police turned up, not to mention the killer, when sudden movement caught my eye. A cluster of trees and bushes lay to the right of the woman’s house. As I strained my eyes, trying to see what had caught my eye, a patch of darkness broke away from the rest and walked into the middle of the road.
“Oh Jesus,” I muttered. I started to shake as I gripped the steering wheel. The hooded figure stopped in the middle of the road and watched me. Staring at him, he reminded me of the grim reaper: his coat was long, all the way to his ankles and buttoned up; his hood was up and covering his face as he bowed his head, no doubt staring straight at me.
I seriously considered running him over at that point and I think I honestly would’ve tried it had he made one move in my direction. I felt like a dozen spiders were crawling all over me as I sensed his eyes on me, no doubt delighted at the fear he’d caused in me.
“Do something, you bastard,” I muttered, though my voice quivered as I uttered the brave words. What I was actually hoping he’d do, I don’t know. Had he suddenly approached me, I probably would’ve wet myself. Had he suddenly bolted towards the woman’s front door and attempted a breakin, I probably would’ve wet myself. Had the police suddenly arrived, sending the killer running into the night and leaving me still sat there, I probably would’ve wet myself.
It was beginning to look like the night was going to end with a dead woman I couldn’t save, an arrest I couldn’t prevent and a messy accident that would require clean underwear and jeans.
The figure suddenly moved and I flinched. For some reason, either fear or anger at feeling so helpless, I began to make a high-pitched humming sound in the back of my throat as I waited for the killer to make his move. His arms raised slowly, palms up. He looked like he was preparing to preach to the sky.
Thinking he was about to rush at me, I gripped the steering wheel even harder. Realising I was preparing to run the killer over, I prepared myself for it. Or at least, I tried to. My mind tormented me with a crushed face splattered all over my windshield and brain matter clumping in the window wipers.
The killer froze and I held my breath. Time stood still as crazy thoughts tumbled through my mind.
Then, the figure raised his arms a little higher, brought his elbows in to his sides with his palms still facing upwards―and shrugged. An exaggerated shrug, it seemed to say “oops.”
I frowned and the killer lowered his arms and regarded me, his head bowed once again. I didn’t know what to make of it. I still didn’t when the killer saluted me, shoved his hands into his coat pockets and turned away. He walked away casually for the first couple of steps before dashing to his right, away from me and away from the woman’s house.
I sat stunned. Of all the scenarios I’d imagined, this was not one of them. Was he leaving the woman alone?
I don’t know how long I sat there, but I jerked when a text message came through. It read: Well done, Danny, you passed your test. But I would get going if I were you. You’ll have a tough time explaining yourself to the police. I’ll contact you soon.
“Bastard,” I muttered, though relief flooded through me. He wasn’t going to hurt the woman. Though I realised taking the word of a psycho killer was like taking the word of a politician, I didn’t need telling twice. I turned my van around and drove home, thanking my lucky stars when I pulled up outside my flat without encountering any police cars. I’m not even ashamed to admit that I ran. I ran from my van and I didn’t stop running until I was safely inside my flat with the door locked tight behind me.
Chapter Eighteen
I strode into the supermarket where I worked. It was 9.30 in the morning and I looked, and felt, like death.
Awake since 6 after dozing off at 3, I felt like a zombie. I’d had the 24hour news channel on, watching and hoping that the woman’s face wouldn’t fill the screen. I think I may have had a breakdown if it had. Exhausted, emotional and feeling utterly helpless, I’d wandered around my flat for hours after waking, the TV on loud so I could hear it. Making my toast at 8 that morning, my toaster had blown up.
Needing something, anything to do besides sitting in my flat and imagining death and prison, I went into work to purchase a kettle and a toaster.
I made small talk with some of my colleagues before heading to the kitchen appliances aisle.
“Danny!”
I turned to the sudden shout and saw my supervisor Burt running at me. A large bald man with a stocky frame and enormous beer
belly, he wasn’t exactly a hit with the ladies. But I liked him, finding him a fair man with a great sense of humour.
He wasn’t smiling as he rushed at me however, and I wondered whether the police had been in asking questions about me.
What if everyone knows I’m a suspect in a murder case?
“Oh it’s a miracle that you’ve just appeared like this,” Burt babbled. “We’ve had three go off sick this week, then with you being on holiday I’m down to two men. I know you’re meant to be on holiday till Wednesday but we’re desperate￢”
“I’ll stay,” I interrupted and Burt sighed with relief. “You’re a lifesaver kid. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get your shift back.”
I felt so much relief at knowing I didn’t have to go back to my flat alone that I just shook my head.
I would have worked for free to avoid being alone at that point.
“Don’t worry Burt, I have no plans anyway.”
Burt smiled, then raised his eyebrows at something behind me. Dread clutching me, I turned expecting to find Jackson and Dobson standing there with a pair of handcuffs, having decided that I was guilty and wanting to arrest me in public.
Jackson and Dobson were not standing behind me, but I noticed a middle-aged couple with an overflowing trolley. As soon as I spotted them, their stench greeted me. A combination of urine, faeces and pure filth, I grimaced. Both the man and woman were dressed in filthy, ragged tracksuits that looked as though they hadn’t seen a washing machine in some time, if ever. Their lank greasy hair clung to the sides of their puffy swollen faces as they argued softly over something, indifferent to the disgusted stares of everyone around them.
An image of myself as a child filled my mind and I turned back around.
“Looks like someone left the doors open at the local funny farm,” Burt cracked and I laughed in spite of myself.
“Come on kiddo, I’ll sort you out with a spare uniform.”
***
I clocked out, amazed at how quickly my shift had ended. I rubbed my shoulder gingerly as I headed to my van. To show his appreciation at my staying to work, Burt had treated me to a hearty punch on the shoulder and I wondered whether something may be fractured.
It was almost 3.30 and miserable, the rain pounding the pavement as I rushed for my van. Digging into my pocket for my keys, a figure suddenly stepped around the side of my van.
Becky.
Always so well put together, her clothes, hair and make-up immaculately done, I’d never seen her looking so…untidy.
In spite of the terrible rain, she was wearing a dress, a short one that showed her lovely long legs. She’d obviously been waiting for me for some time, her hair was plastered down to her skull and black streaks decorated her cheeks, the rain causing her eye make-up to run. Seeing her in such a pitiful state and knowing she had been waiting for me, I felt like hugging her.
Still somewhat hurt however that the woman I was in a relationship with wasn’t there for me through the horror I was currently enduring, I headed straight to the driver’s side door.
“Danny,” she said as I unlocked my door. “I’m sorry. Can we just talk?”
I caught a whiff of her perfume and my heartbeat quickened.
What can I say; I’m a man and she’s a hot woman.
“Get in,” I told her, making sure my tone implied that I’d really rather not waste my time talking to her.
“Could we go somewhere to talk? In private. Please?”
I didn’t really see the point in going anywhere to talk, and to be quite honest, I had far more troubling things on my mind right now.
“Wanna go to my place?”
Becky shook her head. “Let’s drive upto the Viewpoint. We can have some privacy there.”
My heartbeat quickened slightly. The Viewpoint was a notorious place amongst teenagers. It was way out in the boonies and known as the ‘shag pad’.
Did Becky just want to talk, or did she have other things on her mind? We could just have easily gone to my place, though, if sex was what she wanted. Saying that, we could just as easily go to my place to talk. Deciding that sitting here and wondering was just wasting time, I started the van and began to drive. In spite of the problems Becky caused me, the feelings of self-doubt and worthlessness she stirred within me, I still found myself interested in what she had to say.
The drive up to the viewpoint was a quiet one, neither me nor Becky making any effort to speak or even look at each other.
The horrible weather was apparently keeping everyone indoors; the roads and Viewpoint itself were as dead as a ghost town. I parked up my van overlooking the lake and hills. Had the sky not have been full of black rainclouds, it would’ve been a lovely view.
Becky sighed, twisted in her seat, and began to speak.. As usual whilst speaking to her, I felt like a shit.
She told me the full story of her relationship with her son’s dad.
Turns out, he cheated on her at every opportunity, with one of her friends also. Absent, both physically and emotionally, she’d been a single mother technically from the get go. Then, when she’d left him, he’d tried to use her son against her. Scared, she’d moved out of the flat she’d shared with him and moved back in with her parents. Every now and again he would pop up and cause problems. This was also the reason why she was afraid of her parent’s finding out about us. Becky’s ex had caused so many problems for them, turning up at their house, shouting and banging on their door. They were worried that if Becky met someone else, it would cause her ex to start causing trouble again.
“So you see,” Becky said. “I’m just in a position where I have to be really careful. Josh is two now, so he’s a lot more aware of what is happening. I don’t want Ethan turning up again, banging on the doors and calling me a slag with Josh there. I know my parents would never kick me out, but I worry that one day they’ll tell me they just can’t take it anymore and ask me to leave.”
I felt bad, both for her and myself. The kind of relationship I was after was not on the offering here, I had some serious thinking to do.
Did I really want to be involved in all this in addition to everything else going on. I really didn’t fancy having a psycho ex banging on my door.
I had hoped for the past two months that Becky would tell me she cared, tell me that she wanted to be with me. To my amazement, she did just that.
“I love you, Danny,” she muttered as she stared at the floor. “I know you probably think you deserve better, and you do. I just hope you’ll stay with me, give me time to sort my personal stuff out. Sooner or later, Ethan will meet someone else. When that happens, he won’t care what I’m doing. Until then, I have to be really careful. I’m just so scared. Please be patient with me”
I leaned over and hugged her. I didn’t know what I wanted to do at that point, but I’m not hard enough to tell a woman that I didn’t want to be with her after she’s just opened up to me that way, and told me she loves me.
I felt quite empty.
Okay, she’s having problems with an ex, but that didn’t explain why she was so distant with me. Why she apparently hadn’t noticed that recently there was something seriously wrong with me. She knew vague details about my mother, nothing too deep, just that I had gone to live with my aunt when I was 9 and that I’d re-established contact. She never asked how that was going or anything.
She just didn’t seem to care about me at all. Yet, here she was telling me she loved me and needed time.
I didn’t know what to do.
“I need to think about things,” I told her.
She drew away from me, looking a little stunned and disappointed. Apparently, she thought I’d have got back with her immediately.
Becky nodded. “My friend told me you were working today. I told my parents that I was popping out to see a friend and came straight here. I’ve been waiting for you since quarter to three in this weather. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“It counts for a lot, I just
think I’m entitled to think about things since this is obviously going to be a very slow burning relationship. One where we can’t even go out in public. I just want some time to think about things. Okay?”
She nodded. “I suppose that’s fair.”
“I’ll take you home now.”
Before I could move, Becky kissed me. A long, deep, passionate kiss, she moved close to me and held my head in both hands. Against my better judgement, I responded to the kiss. She squirmed against me, running her fingers through my hair.
In spite of myself, I became aroused.
Becky placed her hand against my crotch, rubbing me. I groaned and tried to pull away. This was not happening. I was not going to allow her seduce me again. Becky let me go and I sat back. Before I could think of something to say, she scurried over the seat and straddled me.
“Becky. This isn’t a good idea.”
“You’ve never turned me down before.”
Becky held my head passionately and kissed me, slow and deep. I gave in to the kiss, unable to stop it. I had a beautiful girl, straddling me and kissing me whilst grinding her pelvis back and forth; there’s no man on earth who would have been able to stop it.
She reached down and began to undo my jeans. A little awkward manoeuvring and shifting brought my jeans down enough for Becky to free my erection. Without hesitation or even so much as a glance around to make sure we were still alone, she moved her underwear to the side and slid herself on to me.
I gasped, she gasped. I thrust, she rode. I’m not even ashamed to say that it didn’t last long, but it was, quite honestly, one of the best I’ve ever had. Becky leaned against me, panting, her back hitching with every breath. She drew away from me, a contented lazy smile on her face. “Could you run me home please?”
Nodding, I near enough pushed her off me and we both corrected our clothing.
I began to drive. Neither of us said a word until we reached the end of her street.
“I’ll come by yours on Saturday night. We’ll go out for a drink, if you like.”
“What? Out? As in, in public?”
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