Authors: Sibel Hodge
Tags: #Mystery, #romantic suspense, #crime, #psychological thriller, #Suspense, #amnesia, #distrubing, #Thriller
I stop and sniff the air. The aromatic scent of pine hits my nostrils, and that’s when I know for sure I came here before. That smell, sweet and perfumed, triggers something in my brain. Flashing lights pop in my head like an explosion of fireworks. A chill of fear freezes my muscles, and I can’t move. The sensation of someone watching me is so strong I almost feel a burning gaze boring into my skin.
Jordan turns around when he realizes I’m no longer walking beside him down the track. ‘What is it?’ He strides back to me, puts his hands on my shoulders.
‘I…this…I…not…’ My mouth trembles so hard I can’t get the words out.
‘You recognize this place?’ His eyes are wide and questioning.
‘I…horrible…feeling.’ I’m panting now, sharp jerking breaths. Not enough air. I need more air. ‘Something…some…thing bad.’ Reaching deep inside, I struggle to grasp the distant memory and pull it to the surface. Vivid images flood inside my head now. The last time I was here.
One minute Tom was showing me some pine tables, and the next, he grabbed me from behind. One arm around my throat, holding me tight. One big hand over my mouth, stifling the scream of terror. For a moment I was so shocked I couldn’t move. I froze. Numb. As if the life was already sucked right out of me.
Then the adrenaline kicked in, and I struggled. But he was too big. Too strong. Couldn’t move. I could hardly breathe through his hand, sniffing oxygen hard through my nose.
Then…
A blank. That’s where the memory fractures.
Before I register what’s happening, Jordan is gripping my hand and leading me back up the track towards the main road. There’s a bench a little further along in front of the houses. He sits me onto it and crouches down on his haunches at my side, taking my hands in his and rubbing them vigorously.
‘OK, just breathe, Chloe. You need to calm down. Nothing’s going to happen. I’m here.’ He keeps his gaze on me.
I nod and shudder at the same time. Breathe. In. Out. Yes. Breathe. I take in deep gulps of air. My face is on fire, but my hands and feet are like blocks of ice.
‘Just keep breathing. You’re doing great.’
I don’t know how long we stay like that. It feels like an eternity until my breath slows and the shivers stop. My cheeks are wet, and I didn’t even realize I was crying.
‘Do you want to tell me what happened?’ He sits beside me. ‘Did you remember something specific? Did it happen there?’
‘At first I didn’t, but the smell and the sound of the dog barking sparked something off. I got a really,
really
bad feeling. Like I was going to die. Like someone was suffocating me. And then I remembered him grabbing hold of me, his hand gagging my mouth so I couldn’t scream. But that’s where the memory stops. After that there’s just this big black void again.’
‘I don’t want you anywhere near here.’ He glances around, getting to his feet. ‘It’s best if I get you home safely, then you can call Summers and let him investigate things. Are you up to walking, or shall I call a cab?’ He pulls his mobile out of his pocket.
‘I don’t want to wait for a cab.’ I stand up on fragile legs. ‘Let’s go.’
He takes my hand and we walk away, but I can’t stop looking over my shoulder.
~~~~
When we get back to Jordan’s house, I sit on the step outside the kitchen door and light a cigarette. I take deep drags as John winds his way round and round my legs, nudging at me with his head.
‘Here.’ Jordan hands me a mug of strong coffee and sits next to me. ‘Are you OK?’
It’s the last thing I want him to ask. I’m not OK. Far from it. ‘I just keep seeing that place in my head. Being underground. Wanting to live and not knowing if I would. Running for my life through those woods. Part of me wishing I was already dead because the fear was too much.’ Inside I’m a quivering wreck, but my voice sounds surprisingly calm, as if I’m detached from it all. As if it happened to someone else.
‘It must’ve been terrifying.’
‘I don’t want to think about it, though. I just want to forget it happened, but I can’t. I don’t want to be scared all the time, but I am. It’s like I’ve exchanged one fear for another.’
‘Liam, you mean?’
I take a sip of coffee and the bitterness hits the roof of my mouth. ‘Yes.’
‘But you left him, and you escaped being held captive. You can get through the rest.’
‘I should call Summers.’ I get to my feet and go into the kitchen. I pick up my mobile then dial his number and wait for him to answer.
‘Chloe? How are you?’ Summers asks.
In the background, I hear phones ringing and loud voices talking urgently. ‘I’ve found out something you need to know.’
‘Yes?’ he says quickly then, ‘No, I’ll be there in ten minutes.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Sorry, I was talking to someone else. We’ve got a major incident going on here. It’s all hands on deck. What did you find out?’
‘I went to an estate agent in town. The woman there took me to see a flat that I wanted to rent. I said I was going to go back and get some money for a deposit, since I’d left my purse at Sara’s. Then she said she dropped me back at the estate agent, and I went window shopping.’
‘No, get the other armed response unit out, too,’ Summers says to someone. Then to me, ‘Sorry, Chloe, carry on.’
‘I went to Nightingale’s in the high street, and they told me about a place called Tom’s Wood Shack.’ I look at Jordan, who’s watching me closely. ‘When Jordan and I went there, I had this horrible feeling something bad had happened before, and then I had a flash of memory. Tom attacked me. He grabbed me round the throat so I couldn’t move and clamped a hand over my mouth. I was trying to struggle, but I couldn’t. He was too strong. That’s where the memory stops, though, and I don’t know what happened after that. But I know I never made it back to Sara’s, because my bag and purse were still there.’ I expect him to trivialize what I’ve said, make some excuse about plausible scenarios and rational explanations, but to my surprise, he doesn’t.
‘Right, Chloe, I’m going to have to go now and deal with what’s going on here. But I’ll get Flynn to pick up this Tom and bring him in for a formal interview. As soon as we have him at the station, I’ll let you know, OK?’
‘OK.’
‘I’ll call you later.’ He hangs up.
I smoke more cigarettes, stubbing out one and then lighting another immediately. I’m unable to concentrate when Jordan speaks. My whole body is a jumble of nerves. All I can think about is the police getting Tom off the street so he can’t get me again. What will he say when they question him? Will he deny it? Will he be smug and pleased with himself that he’s managed to get away with it for so long? Does he have another poor woman tied up in that underground hole to take my place?
‘…will be OK…Summers…’ I’m so lost in frantic thought I don’t hear Jordan speaking at first.
I shake my head and turn to look at him. ‘Sorry, what were you saying?’
‘I said it’s going to be OK. They’ll get him, and this will be all over.’ He squeezes my hand. I squeeze it back and give him a tight smile, but I’m not so sure. Will it ever be over? When something like this happens, does the horror ever go away?
My mobile phone ringing later makes me drop my cigarette, burning my finger. My heart kicks out an erratic beat as I answer.
‘I just wanted you to know that we’ve got Tom,’ Summers says. ‘Flynn’s dealing with it until I can get back to the station. I’ll keep you updated with any developments.’
‘Thank you.’ I release the breath I’ve been holding onto and slump forward with relief. My kidnapper is off the streets and can’t hurt me now. I’m finally safe.
33
Jordan’s mobile rings in his pocket. He pulls it out and says, ‘Hey, sis, how are things?’ A pause. ‘What?’ He stands up, shoulders tensing. ‘When?’ He runs a hand over his hair. ‘Is she OK?’ A longer pause. ‘I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.’ He hangs up and casts a worried look in my direction. ‘That was my sister. Mum’s had a fall and broken her hip. She’s been taken to A&E. I have to get up there.’
‘Of course, you go. I’ll be fine.’ I make ushering actions with my hands. ‘There’s no danger now, is there?’
‘You’re sure?’ He looks torn. ‘Do you want to come with me? I know it won’t be much fun, but…’
‘No. Really, you go. I’ll just go back to my house and collect some more things while you’re gone.’
‘What about Liam?’
‘It’s OK, he’ll be at work. And, anyway, there’s nothing he can say to me now that’s going to hurt me or make me change my mind.’
‘I’ll meet you back here later, then.’ He grabs his keys and heads out the door wearing a worried frown.
I walk to my house and stand outside, a million memories tumbling in…
The night I first met Liam. Sara and I were in a club, dancing. I was drunk. I wanted to dance all night, and laugh, and flirt. Pretend I was all the things I wanted desperately to be. I was good at pretending by then.
He stood at the edge of the dance floor watching me. It wasn’t the fact he was watching me that made me look twice. It was the
way
he was watching me, as if I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. As if I mesmerized him. Later he told me that the first minute he saw me, he knew I was the only woman for him. He said whatever it took, he was going to make me his.
The day Liam asked me to live with him after only a month together, and I was so happy, hopeful, and in love, of course I said yes. He brought me to life when I didn’t even realize I was dead. I was awake for the first time in forever. When he picked me up from the flat I shared with a couple of nurses, we were both so excited about it. He wouldn’t let go of my hand as he drove back here, and every few minutes he’d give me these little ecstatic looks, grinning from ear to ear. He carried me over the threshold, even though we weren’t married yet, and I laughed so much my stomach hurt. It was going to be my first proper home. My first house. I thought we’d stay here forever.
The thrill of anticipation as I rushed home from work every day to put my own key into my own front door. Even relishing the thought of housework, just because I was doing something useful to keep our place tidy and clean how Liam liked it.
Making love on a blanket in the garden one summer’s night. The scent of jasmine I’d planted wafting through the air. It was gentle and slow. Afterwards, we lay on our backs, staring at the stars as Liam taught me about the different constellations, with our warm limbs wrapped round each other and sweat cooling on our skin.
A few weeks before we were married, how Liam surprised me for my birthday by paying off the debt from my student loan still hanging around my neck. It was tough trying to survive at Uni alone with no family support. Even though I worked in a shoe shop at weekends and a pub in the evenings, I was barely surviving. The cost of my rent alone was eating through the loan, never mind all the stuff I needed for my studies.
In the beginning, he took care of me and loved me. I was alone for most of my life, and suddenly there he was. He became my family, and I was so grateful for the safety and security he gave me. And I wonder if it’s really his fault things went wrong, or mine. If I were stronger, I wouldn’t have let it happen. Maybe I’m as stupid as Liam says for thinking you can change someone who doesn’t believe there’s anything wrong with them.
Perhaps my childhood made it possible for someone like Liam to come along and manipulate me; take control of me. There was something programmed deep inside, waiting to surface so I was destined to become a victim. Some inner need to seek love and praise at any cost.
Well, not anymore.
A twinge of regret and sadness hits me as I open the front door. I wander through the lounge and dining room then into the kitchen. Everything looks the same as when I left it. Everything except me.
I take the stairs two at a time, retrieve a small holdall from the top shelf of my wardrobe, and begin packing. I grab a couple of pairs of shoes from boxes and put them in first. I slide clothes off hangers, fold them neatly, and layer them inside. Underwear from my drawers goes next. I don’t want to take anything. I don’t want clothes that remind me of this past life, but I can’t afford to buy a whole new wardrobe, so I must.
I pack some toiletries: perfume, body lotion, shampoo, and hairspray. Then I go to my dressing table and open my jewellery box. I don’t want the jewellery he bought me, but I put it all inside a wash bag. Maybe I’ll sell it.
I lift up the top tray of the jewellery box and pick out the personal papers—marriage certificate, birth certificate, passport. I’m stuffing them all inside the wash bag when it hits me with a stark clarity like a knife piercing through my skull. Icy coldness freezes underneath my skin, leaving me lightheaded and shivery. My knees buckle. I drop down to the stool behind me, warning bells clanging through my brain.
Passport. Birth Certificate. Identification.
I told the woman in the estate agent I was coming back with some money and ID. The money and bankcards were in my purse at Sara’s house, but I’d left my ID here.
What if I went to Tom’s Wood Shack and nothing happened? What if I just looked at furniture and left? What if the vision I had when Jordan and I were there was just some kind of false memory like Dr Drew explained? Maybe I wanted it to be Tom so badly I distorted the truth in my head.