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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Betrayal

J oel was in serious danger.

And here I was, riding my pushbike through Sydney traffic in the torrential rain. Racing to save the man I loved from being murdered. By my best friend.

Pain sliced my chest thinking about what Brad had done … to Steve … and Grant … and Ben.

And I might be too late to save Joel. I might be too late to tell him that I loved him.

The tyres of my bike splashed along the rain-drenched streets.

I ignored red lights, sweeping around corners like a maniac with a death wish.

Even then, it had never felt like such a long journey to Joel’s house, but finally it loomed before me.

I keyed the code into the gate and watched it slowly slide open.

I dropped my bike just inside the gate and hurried towards the house.

The front door was ajar. My stomach sunk as I tiptoed my way towards the house, stopping just outside under the shelter of the porch, to allow myself a breath. Inside it was very dark, which was unusual – Sandra was all about ambient light of an evening.

Wrenching off my rain jacket, helmet and shoes, I slipped inside. My drenched clothes and skin dripping on the floors as I climbed the stairs to check the bedrooms first. All deserted.

I crept down the stairs. The living room was also in darkness. I paused to adjust to the gloom; although I could navigate this house with my eyes closed, I didn’t want any nasty surprises sneaking up on me. I’d already had enough nasty surprises for one day.

I scanned the room: empty. I slipped silently through the master bedroom; also empty.

I couldn’t let myself feel relieved. There was still a whole other level to this house.

I turned and tiptoed down, thanking God that this house was so well-built that the stairs didn’t creak. There was no one on the lounge. The TV was off. The room was mostly shadow, the gym end was in utter darkness.

No one was home.

Then I heard a moan from the far end of the room. I raced towards the sound, not caring if I made noise now.

It was Sandra. She was tied to one of the machines. Her mouth was gagged with what looked like a CANTEEN bandana. I gagged; who would use an item from a kids’ cancer charity to gag someone?

Someone who worked in a kids’ cancer ward and probably had things like that just sitting in his car.

“Sandra!” I hissed, crouching down beside her. She looked up at me with fear in her eyes and I tried to swallow mine.

With shaking hands, I fumbled with the knot on the gag and managed to drag it free from her mouth. Sandra took a deep, shuddering breath. I leaned around behind her and tried to untie the rope that was holding her against the machine.

“Joel,” she gasped croakily. My heart stopped beating for a second and I stopped trying to untie the rope. I leaned around until I could see her face.

“Where is he?” I asked frantically. I followed Sandra’s horrified gaze until I was staring at a still form on the floor near the lounge, mostly obscured from view.

I leapt away from Sandra and staggered towards Joel’s lifeless body, breath scissoring in and out of my lungs. My legs gave way and I collapsed to my knees beside him.

He was lying half on his side, facing the back of the lounge. I rested one trembling hand on his shoulder and rolled him over until he was on his back. His hair and face were matted with blood, and more oozed sluggishly from a split on his forehead, just on his hairline.

“Joel,” I whispered in agony. I was too late. Tears burned my eyes, but they refused to fall.

Joel’s chest rose and fell once, and I stopped breathing.

He wasn’t dead.

“Joel!” I hissed, shaking his shoulder to try and wake him up. He groaned, opening his eyes a slit.

“Oh Joel!” I cried, not caring whether Brad was still in the house or not anymore.

“Mel?” Joel rasped. His hand went up to his forehead and touched the bloody wound. “Ouch.”

“You’re bleeding,” I explained. He leaned up onto one elbow and tried to hoist himself up. I slipped an arm under his and helped him prop himself up against the back of the lounge.

“Is he still here?” Joel asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Oh Joel, you have no idea how relieved I am that you’re not …”

“Is Mum okay?” he interrupted. I nodded.

“I’m fine, sweetie, just glad you’re okay,” Sandra called from where she was still tied to the weights machine.

Joel sighed woozily and I held his face gently, taking a closer look at the wound. I thought he might be concussed.

“Mel,” he began, but I put a finger to his lips, pulling my phone out of my pocket.

“Shush. I’ll call the police and an ambulance.” I swiped to unlock my phone and dialled triple zero. My hands shook so much I could barely punch the number in.

“Mel,” Joel said again, more insistently. I looked up from my phone. He was squinting, trying to focus on a place somewhere above and behind me.

My brain screamed at me to not turn, to not look in the same direction, but my head started swivelling to the right, craning behind and up.

I didn’t even get a glimpse of what was there before he pounced. His hand snaked around my throat, gripping so tight that I couldn’t expel the air caught in my lungs.

He dragged me to my feet and spun me around, still choking me, and holding me against him. Something cold and pointy pressed against my neck.

“Well, what a surprise – you see, Joel, you see what you’ve done to her?” The voice was rumbly and rough, and something about it was horrifyingly familiar, but in my panic, I couldn’t place it.

One thing was certain: the voice did not belong to Brad.

“Leave her out of this,” Joel growled, managing to sound menacing. He struggled to his feet, swaying, and I saw just how much blood was in his hair and on his face. And on the floor. My stomach churned.

The knife dug deeper into the skin on the side of my neck.

“Don’t come any closer, or I swear I’ll do it!”

I stared wide-eyed at Joel, his eyebrows knitted together as he glared at the man behind me. I blinked, lightheaded as I struggled for enough air.

“Let her go – you came here for me, not her.”

“Oh, but don’t you see? I did come here for her. Everything has been for her.”

My attacker spun around, spinning me with him. I stumbled, felt the sting as the knife at my neck pressed deeper.

“Now I’m going to have to get rid of all three of you,” he sighed.

Sandra stared at me with resignation in her eyes. No ! There was no way I was ready to die!

“Why are you doing this?” I wheezed.

“Mel, you should be thanking me! I’m doing this for you! Someone has to protect you from the people who want to take advantage of you. From the mistakes you keep making.”

“Mel’s perfectly capable of looking after herself!

” Joel grunted. My attacker swung us back around so that he could face Joel, who was holding onto the back of the lounge for support.

He was deathly pale behind all the blood.

How much had he lost? How much could a person lose before they were in serious danger ?

“Is she?” my attacker growled back. “I’m not so sure about that. Well, it hardly matters anymore. It seems I can’t stop others from using her, so she’s better off dead.”

Something warm trickled down the side of my neck – the knife had pierced me.

Joel’s expression was horrified, furious …

terrifying through all the blood. I really didn’t want that to be my last image of Joel before I died.

I squeezed my eyes tight shut and pictured him naked, arms wrapped around me, our legs entwined.

Had it only been earlier that day that I’d been in bed with him?

“Joel, I …” I grated, gagging before I could say the next words – “love you” – as the hand around my throat tightened again.

“Mel,” Joel moaned desperately. He couldn’t save me. He could hardly even keep himself upright. I struggled for breath to force the words out. I had to tell him. I couldn’t die and not tell him.

“Drop the weapon!” another voice growled behind us. The pressure of the blade on my neck eased slightly, and I sucked in a shuddering breath, even though I could still feel it biting into me.

“Let her go or I shoot!”

My attacker still had his hand around my throat, even if the knife wasn’t pressed there anymore. I couldn’t open my eyes. He squeezed it a little tighter and I gurgled pitifully.

The bang was so loud that I flinched, trying to bring my pinned hands up to cover my ears.

It was still reverberating when the attacker’s hand loosened around my throat, and we both thumped to the floor.

It was still reverberating when pain blossomed in my shoulder. I opened my eyes and looked down at the blood very quickly soaking through my t-shirt.

It was still reverberating when the world went black.