Page 75 of The Twins

“And that?” I pointed to a tall metal structure.

“Phone mast.” Cillian pointed to the right. “But there’s a farm over there. Big one, too.”

“And over there,” I said. “Another one. Smaller”

“And this track leads to them both.” Dalton gestured to the vehicle. “Let’s pay them a visit and be ready, if she’s there they’re not going to want us to get her back.”

“Only fucking thing that’s going to happen,” I said and rolled my shoulders. Someone was going to die soon.

That was the price for kidnapping our woman.

* * * *

Rebecca

The stable wasn’t quiet. Apart from the cows I could hear birds, a dog barking, a distant engine—a tractor or combine perhaps.

And every minute that went past I managed to move my fingers a little more. Taking deep breaths, I wondered if perhaps I could breathe the poison out of my system. I stared at the wooden slats on the walls and an orange bucket that had been knocked over, the water spilled onto the stone floor.

The sense of helplessness was overwhelming. Nausea gripped me. Fear swirled in my system. I tried to concentrate on the scent of horse and hay. It took me back to my childhood when I’d had a friend with ponies and used to hang out with her at the stables on sunny days.

I swallowed, the taste in my mouth bitter. Finn and Cillian would never find me here. Neither would the police. I had to rely on myself. If Reg hadn’t thrown my phone away, I would have had a chance, Amy might have looked to see where I was.

But that sliver of hope was gone now, and I was at a madman’s mercy.

I wriggled my toes and then moved my ankle, just a little. It was still heavy, but at least it was doing what my brain was telling it.

A distant plane murmured overhead, and I flexed my opposite ankle.

Yes. There was movement coming back, and fairly quickly, too. Goodness knows what that bastard had put in my system. I’d kill him for it if I got the chance.

I took in the walls of the stable and spotted a pitchfork, the type used to fluff up the hay. It was good and sharp. Perhaps I’d spear him in the guts. Watch the horror cross his face when he realized it was all over for him.

Never in my life had I considered killing someone, but now, now it was me or him.

A thud. A door slamming perhaps?

Fuck, was he heading my way?

Was he alone or did he have fellow assholes with him?

“You do what the fuck you want with her,” a loud chilling male voice, “but I don’t want a big fucking mess, okay? If the cops come sniffing, blood gives them fucking hard-ons, and I can’t be doing with that while I’ve still got three girls to shift.”

“You worry about your business, Bateman, and I’ll do mine.”

Bateman! Fuck I knew that name. Another A-star asshole. And that was Reg’s voice…

Blood? Was he going to kill me…now?

I managed to drag myself to sitting, my hair falling forward because holding my head up was an effort. Why couldn’t he have given me another five minutes, ten even? I was sure my body would be back by then. I’d have had a chance at fighting him off and defending myself. But right now…I could barely move.

A panicked sob caught in my throat as I heard heavy footfall heading my way.

The clank of metal, the slide of a bolt. The stable door opened, and light flooded in.

He stood there, wide shouldered, arms hanging gorilla-like, and stared at me.

I whimpered and tried to push away, put distance between myself and him.