Chapter 40
Martin moved so quickly, Poppy didn’t have time to react. He was upon her, his hand closing around her arm and dragging her backwards before she could reach the hallway, a cry still tearing from her throat.
‘No!’ he said, pulling her back against his chest, his voice low and controlled. ‘You don’t get to do that.’
‘Poppy? Was that you?’
‘Keira—’ She managed to get just the one word out before Martin clamped his hand over her mouth.
‘Stop!’ he ordered.
Panic clawed at her throat as she struggled against him, but he was too strong and she couldn’t break free from his grip.
‘We don’t need to make this messy,’ he said, his tone measured, almost reasonable. ‘It will be quicker if you behave.’
The words were for her, but his attention was on the hallway, worried that Keira might appear. A knot tightened low in her stomach, and she ordered herself to focus. She couldn’t let her friend walk into the room. She needed to stay back.
‘I’m going to remove my hand now. Then I want you to call her through,’ Martin said quietly. ‘It will be easier that way.’
Poppy swallowed, her throat dry. She wouldn’t do that.
‘Keira,’ she shouted, trying to keep her voice steady. ‘Stay in the bedroom.’
‘Don’t disobey me,’ Martin hissed angrily against her ear, roughly pulling on her arm.
There was a pause.
‘Why?’ Keira called back. She sounded confused.
Because the man who kidnapped you is in the house, Poppy wanted to scream.
Because everything is about to go very wrong and I don’t know how to get us out of this situation.
She knew she couldn’t say any of those things.
‘Just…’ She hesitated, searching for something to say that wouldn’t raise the alarm. She was acutely aware of how vulnerable she was right now. Martin’s breath warm against her neck. ‘I’ll be there in a minute. Just stay in the room.’
‘Why are you being weird?’ Keira asked, her tone now suspicious.
Instead of doing as instructed, her footsteps sounded on the tiles, growing louder as she approached the living area.
No! Poppy wanted to call out. To make her stop.
Dread tightened inside her. Because she knew, without question, that whatever happened next, there would be no talking her way out of anything.
‘Poppy? Where are you?’
Keira appeared in the doorway. Her hair was damp from the shower, her expression going from confusion to alarm as she took in the scene. ‘What—’
The word barely left her lips as Martin released his grip on Poppy, giving her a hard shove that knocked her off balance.
As she fell to her knees, she heard Keira scream and realised that he had switched targets.
He had hold of Keira’s wrist, yanking her towards him before Poppy could even get to her feet.
‘Don’t!’ he snapped, the change in him immediate. His passive demeanour hardening into anger.
Keira screamed, trying to pull free, but he twisted her arm behind her back, forcing her to still.
‘Martin, what the hell are you doing?’ Poppy demanded, her voice shaking despite her effort to steady it. ‘Let her go. She’s done nothing to you.’
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘She hasn’t. But you have.’
His words were cold.
‘Poppy, what’s going on? What does he mean?’
Before she could answer Keira, Martin reached into his pocket and pulled something out. A knife, Poppy realised in horror, as he held it to Keira’s throat.
Everything seemed to narrow to this single moment.
‘Please don’t,’ she begged.
Martin looked at her, still so steady and certain. ‘Then don’t make me.’
Don’t make him? What the hell was he even talking about?
‘I don’t know what you want?’ she whispered.
‘Yes. You do.’
For a second, no one spoke, then a sound cut through the tension. A knock at the door.
Realising someone was outside, all three of them froze.
A few seconds passed before it came again, then a voice.
‘Poppy?’
Jem? Relief surged so quickly, she almost cried.
She was about to call out, but then she saw Martin’s look of warning and the panic on Keira’s face.
‘Poppy? It’s Jem. I know you didn’t reply, but I wanted to make sure you were okay.’
Another knock followed.
‘I need you to answer that,’ Martin said quietly, glancing towards the door, then back to Poppy. ‘Get rid of him.’
Her immediate reaction was no and she shook her head. ‘I can’t.’
She would never be able to hold it together to be able to convince Jem everything was okay.
‘You can,’ Martin corrected. ‘Don’t test me, Poppy. You want him gone, so do exactly as I say and he leaves. No one gets hurt.’
The knife pressed harder against Keira’s throat and she cried out, her eyes widening in horror as her body went rigid.
‘Poppy?’ Jem called again, louder this time. ‘I heard a scream. Are you okay?’
She wanted to warn him. To beg him to get help. But the sight of the knife held her frozen. If he hurt Keira…
‘Go,’ Martin instructed.
Realising she didn’t have a choice, Poppy forced her legs to move.
As she stepped towards the door, her knees trembled, and she searched for something, anything, she could use to turn things to her favour.
She didn’t dare think about what he would do next.
Behind her, she was aware of his presence and all she could focus on was the knife at her best friend’s throat.
She reached the door, drawing in a deep breath and wondering how the hell she was going to convince Jem everything was okay. Aware Martin was watching and waiting, she pulled it open.
Jem smiled when he saw her, but it quickly dropped, his expression changing to one of concern, his green eyes narrowing.
‘Poppy, what’s going on? Didn’t you hear me—?’
He broke off, his expression turning suspicious, and she realised her face had given the game away.
His eyes sharpened. His voice dropping. ‘Are you okay?’
Say something. Make him go. She willed herself to formulate the words.
‘Yeah,’ she managed, though even that one word stuck in her throat. ‘I’m fine. I was just in the shower.’
Even to her own ears, it sounded wrong.
Jem frowned, glancing past her into the villa. ‘Then what was that noise? It sounded like a scream?’
Fuck! Think, Poppy.
She managed a strained smile. ‘I just dropped a glass. It made me jump.’
Behind her was nothing but silence.
Where was Martin? Was he mad that she was taking so long?
Jem didn’t look convinced. ‘You’re sure that’s all it was?’ he asked, continuing to stare at her as if he was looking for answers.
The moment was slipping. He didn’t believe her. She couldn’t let him step inside. Everything would explode and it would all be her fault.
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ she said, more firmly this time. ‘I’m fine. In fact, I was actually about to go to—’
A muffled cry cut through her words and her eyes widened.
Was it Keira? Had Martin hurt her?
Jem’s expression tightened. ‘Who’s that?’ he demanded, stepping forward.
Poppy reacted without thinking, reaching out, her hand catching his arm. ‘Wait!’
It was too late. He was already moving past her. The chance was gone.
‘No!’ Poppy started turning, still trying frantically to stop him.
Jem stopped dead as he took in the scene, his eyes widening at Keira, held rigid in Martin’s grip. The knife at her throat.
‘What the fuck!’
Martin’s dark eyes flipped between them and she could see the control he had been holding on to now slipping at the edges.
‘Stay where you are,’ he barked.
Jem looked too stunned to move, and although he didn’t speak at first, Poppy could see him calculating the best way forward.
‘Let her go, Martin,’ he said eventually. His voice was low and controlled.
Martin only laughed at the request. ‘You don’t get to make demands.’
As if to show he was in charge, he pressed the knife close to Keira’s throat.
Seeing her flinch, Poppy’s chest tightened.
This was unravelling too quickly.
‘Please stop,’ she said, stepping forward. ‘We can talk about this.’
‘No!’ Martin snapped. ‘We’re past talking.’
His grip tightened further, the knife nicking Keira’s skin, and she cried out, struggling to free herself.
And that was it. The moment everything broke.
Keira twisted again, a sharp, desperate movement, her hand flying up to grab at Martin’s wrist. The knife wavered, just for a second, but it was enough. And in that moment, Poppy acted.
She grabbed the heavy ceramic bowl on the counter and she swung it hard, aiming for Martin. It connected with his arm, making a dull crack, and he cried out, his grip loosening as the knife jerked away from Keira’s throat.
As Keira tore free, stumbling forward, Poppy yelled at her. ‘Run!’
Poppy was momentarily distracted, checking her friend was safe, unaware Martin was behind her until Jem yelled a warning.
Martin’s hand shot out, catching Poppy as the bowl slipped from her grip, smashing across the tiled floor. Pain flared up her arm as his fingers dug in, his face twisting now, his mask gone completely.
Jem was already there, lunging forward and grabbing onto Martin, wrenching him back. The force broke his hold on Poppy, sending her stumbling as the two men crashed to the floor.
The knife skidded across the tiles, and for a split second, everything held. Then Martin lashed out, striking Jem across the side of the head.
Keira screamed, as Poppy’s eyes locked on the knife.
It was the other side of Martin. She wouldn’t reach it in time.
Her eyes darted, searching and landing on the shattered bowl. Jagged pieces were scattered across the floor and she dropped to her knees, snatching up a shard.
She barely felt it slicing into her palm.
She looked towards Martin, who was already pushing himself up and turning back again towards Keira. Still the easier target.
No!
Poppy threw herself forward, driving the shard into his side.
She stepped back as Martin gasped, his body jerking in shock as he staggered sideways.
For a moment, everything paused. Then he looked at her, really looked at her, his expression changing. Not to anger. Instead, it was as if, for the first time, he was seeing her clearly.
Then his legs gave way and he hit the floor hard.
Jem scrambled upright, kicking the knife further out of reach, before dropping down beside him, forcing Martin’s arms behind him.
‘Stay down,’ he ordered.
Martin struggled briefly before the fight drained out of him.
Poppy remained where she was, the shard still clutched in her hand, her breathing uneven. The room was suddenly too quiet. Too still.
‘Poppy!’
At the sound of Keira’s voice, she turned, relieved to see her friend was unscathed. That was when the tension inside of her finally gave way. Her grip loosened and the shard slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor.
The nightmare was finally over.