Chapter 51
FAYE
The next time Magnus enters the cellar, I’m tipped over onto my side, lying painfully on my left hip with the chair still attached to my arms. In my desperate attempt to reach Penny, I tilted too far and fell. My throat is hoarse from screaming Penny’s name, but no amount of noise has stirred her.
Magnus stands in the doorway, laughing at the sight of me. Then he approaches. I flinch away from his boots, convinced he’s going to stamp on me or punish me somehow. I brace myself for pain but instead, he crouches and strokes my cheek.
“I take it you figured out who it is on the floor here.” He tugs at my chin, forcing me to look at my daughter’s unmoving body on the cold, hard cellar floor.
Light from the doorway spills onto her naked thighs and forearms. She’s lying on her back with most of her hair covering her face.
She’s dressed in some sort of silky dress that I assume she put on for him.
The thought makes me want to vomit. But the light also reveals that her chest is rising and falling with each breath.
She’s alive and she seems to be breathing despite everything.
He rips the tape from my mouth and the sock spills out.
“Let her go,” I plead. “Whatever you want, I’ll get it. Money. Sex. I literally don’t care.”
He pulls me up, righting the chair so that it’s on its legs again. Then he grins. “Sex. Now that would be interesting. My stepmother’s twin sister…”
There’s that touch of his fingertips on my face again, tracing bones through my sweat-slicked skin. His hands move down to my bound wrists.
“There’s a way for both you and your lovely daughter to walk out of here perfectly fine and go on living your dull lives.
I’m rooting for you, Faye. I want this to go well.
” He works the knot out from one of my wrists and then grabs it with his large hand.
“But if you don’t do what I say, she’ll be dead within an hour.
Do you know why?” He moves closer so that I can smell the sour tang of his breath.
“Because I’ll have nothing to lose. I want what I’m owed.
I want my fucking inheritance and I will get it.
” He pulls in a deep breath. “Are you going to co-operate?”
What choice do I have? I nod.
He lets go of my arm and watches me closely. When I remain still, he moves to the other arm and begins to untie it from the chair. Then he stands back and waits, a test to see if I’m going to be compliant. I sit there, waiting for the next instruction.
Penny is what matters.
I can’t trust this man, but I’ll do whatever he says while he has my daughter.
“Get up,” he says.
I stand on unsteady feet. He watches carefully.
“Walk towards me,” he says.
I do as I’m told.
“Stop. Turn around and walk to the other side of the room and back without limping.”
There are pins and needles running up and down my legs and my hip must be badly bruised. But I lift my chin, pretend I’m Naomi Campbell opening for Versace and stride as best I can to the other side of the cellar and back.
“Good,” he says. “Now hold my hand.”
Revulsion shudders through me, but I reach out and take his hand. Gently, he leads me through the cellar door. I hesitate, glancing behind me at Penny. I open my mouth to protest but then close it with a snap. Magnus’s dark eyes monitor my every reaction, every twitch of my skin.
He closes the door behind me.
“Dina will be taking care of her,” he says. “As long as you do what I say, nothing bad is going to happen.”
The weak part of me wants to believe him.
“Come on. We’re going up the steps now.” He has softened his voice, like he’s talking to a child. “Good girl.”
When we emerge into the rest of the house, I figure out fairly quickly that this is the small terrace house that belongs to Rachel Lacey. I recognise the beige walls and the brown carpet. The tenant must have moved out as most of the furniture is gone.
Magnus leads me up to the next floor. Then he hands me a towel, shampoo and body wash and pushes me into the bathroom.
“Smarten yourself up, Faye.” He shuts the door.
I work quickly, turning on the shower and stripping. I know he’s right outside the door. I sense his presence looming like a sentry to hell. I feel his eyes watching me, and am almost certain he can see my naked body through the wooden door.
I step into the bath, pull the weak stream of water from the shower head towards me and immediately begin rubbing the shower gel over my body. I see dirt and sweat rinse down the plug hole. There’s a bruise the size of my palm on my left hip, and more bruising around my wrists.
Pain is nothing. Pain is temporary. It has no importance when my little girl is lying unconscious in a fucking cellar, guarded by two psychopaths.
I think about ways to kill Magnus as I’m drying myself. I want to rip his throat out with my teeth, taste his blood. I want to run him over with my car, feel the bulk of him disintegrate under the tyres. No one has ever made me feel rage like this in my entire life.
I open the bathroom door, wearing my towel.
“Good girl,” he says. “Give me a smile.”
I do as I’m told.