Chapter 63
SCARLETT
Justin stands at the door to my stall, holding a handful of cable ties and a black body bag.
My body turns rigid. I push my back against the wall and slide my hand behind me, fishing for the cast-iron grate hidden among the hay.
His demeanour has shifted. He’s agitated: wide-eyed, pupils dilated, hair dishevelled, as if he has been absently trying to pull it out. Something’s happened.
Fear tightens its grip on me. Now is the time.
If he thinks for one moment that I’m going to make this easy for him, then he’s very wrong. The time has come to fight for my life.
‘You really shouldn’t have lied, Imogen. Or should I say Scarlett?’ he says in a guttural, thickened voice.
His words hit hard. Thoughts rush through my mind. How did he find out my real name? If there’s ever been a time I’ve had to keep my cool, it’s now. Playing for time, I reply, ‘Lie about what?’
He unfolds the bag and vigorously shakes it out as if he’s about to change the bed sheets. ‘We’ve had a visit from the police.’
‘Why?’ I ask, trying to control the shaking in my voice.
‘It’s ironic that they were the ones to divulge your little secret. The ones who could’ve secured your salvation.’ It’s as if he’s chanting to his hordes of followers.
‘What secret?’ My voice quavers.
‘Daisy was your sister,’ he says flatly.
I flip. ‘You bastard. You killed her. Why?’ The fear turns into something hotter, burning inside me. This man deserves to die.
‘Like you, she shouldn’t have come here.’ He unzips the bag. All the while, his gaze is set firmly on me.
I pull my legs to my body and roll into a squat, ready to pounce, careful not to reveal the weapon behind my back. ‘How did she end up here?’ I ask, stalling for time, waiting for the right moment to strike, knowing all too well I’ll only get one opportunity at this.
‘Silly girl posed as one of her friends. She took their invitation. It wasn’t hers to take. It was an exclusive invitation.’
‘Layla,’ I say aloud.
‘Clever girl, Scarlett. But sadly, not clever enough.’ He turns darker, more sinister, as he recounts what happened to my sister.
‘She was in this very room, you know.’ He throws his arm out, almost theatrically.
‘Kind of fitting, don’t you think? She was drugged and administered a fatal dose to put her to sleep, then I took her to that canal. ’
How can he talk about her like that? I tighten my grip on the grate, ready to lash out once this monster comes towards me. ‘Why the canal? Why not the lake with all the others?’
A loud, crazed laugh echoes around the stable block. ‘I wondered if you’d seen too much when you went swimming the other day. I thought you might have. You were a mess when you got out of the water. You know, I did advise you not to go in there.’
‘Answer me,’ I say through gritted teeth.
‘I had to make it look like an accident. An overdose. People would’ve come looking for her, wouldn’t they, Scarlett?’ He takes a purposeful step towards me.
Enough.
I can’t take this.
Now is my moment. The time to attack with everything I have.
As he gets within arm’s length of me, I stand up and scream as I swing the metal grate with all my might. A shudder shoots up my arm as the corner of the grate strikes his cheekbone, releasing a satisfying crack of shattered bone.
He screams in agony, collapsing onto his haunches and holding his face with both hands. The noise resounds around the stables. His deranged eyes peer through his splayed fingers as drops of blood seep from the gaps between them and run down his hands.
I lift the heavy grate above my head. This time, I’ll knock him out cold.
But as my arms come down, it’s as if this possessed being has superhuman strength.
Ignoring his pain, he throws out an arm to defend himself, striking my arm and knocking me off balance.
His disfigured, bloody face comes into view as he sweeps his other arm, catching my cheek with a heavy hand.
Dazed, I hit the ground. Overpowering me, he jumps on top of me, brutally smashing my head into the ground.
Once, twice, three times. His left eye has closed up completely.
Blood gushes down his face, matting his beard.
I’m struggling for my life, and despite adrenaline fuelling my anger, he’s far too strong.
He turns me over and roughly grabs my hands. I scream into the hay, knowing it’s useless. Not a soul can hear me. Forcing my hands together, he binds them with cable ties. The more I fight, the tighter they become, cutting into my flesh.
He grabs a handful of my hair and drags me along the ground, through the hay. I feel as if he’s going to pull my hair out. I’ve never felt pain like it. He opens the heavy-duty bag and forces me in. I squirm and struggle, screaming, but he silences me with a forceful slap.
He zips the bag, casting me once again into darkness.