Caught in the Web by Emmy Ellis (most read books in the world of all time TXT) 📗

and stared at it. Worked out he’d only lost half an hour and that everything would still be okay. Relief poured into him. During this week he had to be on the ball, more so than he’d been as a child. He had to make sure he did everything to the letter—and those things he shouldn’t be doing…but was going to do anyway.

He smiled at that. At being able to break laws and rules.

It had taken him all this time, all these years of adulthood, to realise he was the master of his life, not her or The Man. They had no hold over him now. Although that was a lie, wasn’t it? They did have a hold—otherwise, why was he doing this? Why had she started talking to him in his head again? Yes, he knew all about the mental states some abused people were left with after a traumatic childhood. He knew why he’d put this plan into action. His therapist had explained it all to him, the mental states, back in his early twenties when sorting his mind out had been Gran’s way of fixing all the things that had been broken.

Demon slaying, that was what he was doing, what all this was.

Anita Jane Curtis had been a substitute for her.

Enough of that. Time to go.

He gave his face a quick wash, popped on a thick puffy coat, plus a beanie hat and gloves, owing to the cold weather. Didn’t bother with his sunglasses by way of a disguise, though. Living dangerously again. Risking his face being seen on CCTV again. Doing something he shouldn’t while doing something else he shouldn’t.

He laughed so much his stomach muscles hurt.

Out in his car, number plates the originals—I don’t care, I really don’t—he drove to the zoo. Parked up. Paid for an entry ticket. Strode inside holding a map then came to a stop to study it, although he didn’t need to. The map was imprinted in his mind. Every walkway, every patch of shrubbery, every animal cage, and every food stand. All of it, right there, clutched by his brain cells.

He spent time with the gorillas, the penguins. Visited the tigers and lions, then headed where he needed to go. It was nearing three-thirty, and time was of the essence if he was going to collect the creature before the zoo worker finished his shift at four.

His stride purposeful, he entered the area he had to be in and went behind the building the zoo worker had mentioned. There were bushes there and a stand of trees, plus a wheelie bin against the wall.

He peered through the trees at the train track for the old engine that took people around the zoo on a sight-seeing tour every half an hour. Once it went past in a minute or so, the worker would come out.

The clatter of the wheels on the track echoed through the air, as did the chatter of the people riding on the train. Out of sight at the moment, it was drawing closer—he could tell by the loudness of the shrieks and laughter. And there it was now, toot-tooting and chugging along, the open-sided red-and-green carriages filled with people, the black funnel belching smoke. He’d have thought no one would want to come to the zoo while it was so cold out, but maybe the sun had inspired them to get off their backsides and give the kids something to do on their first day of half term.

Gran had brought him here once, and he’d been so hap—

No.

No.

No.

With the train gone, excitement obliterated the pain that had threatened to engulf him if he’d thought of Gran. Butterflies dashed about in his stomach—how amusing—although butterflies weren’t really the source of his hilarity. Something else was, but the analogy was there, not lost on him.

The zoo worker came around the corner of the building, head bent, attention on the ground. He was a burly so-and-so, meaty shoulders and arms, thick blond hair, and his green uniform T-shirt stretched taut across his wide chest. He had a black sack in hand, and he lifted it to place it on top of the wheelie bin.

As agreed, the worker didn’t glance at him.

I wonder if he trusts me to leave the money behind?

He’d contacted the zoo man on the off chance he’d be willing to earn some extra cash. Christmas wasn’t far away, and everyone liked a bonus around that time, didn’t they? To his delight, the bloke had been all for it, even going so far as to tell him where the outer fence was broken so he could get inside to collect the tarantula.

It seemed everything had fallen into place once he’d decided to slay those dragons. Although…he had to admire the zoo bloke. He had balls being prepared to do this after the tarantula theft had undoubtedly been discovered this morning.

Alone again now that the worker had disappeared, he walked to the bin and opened the sack. As promised, what he needed was in a small transparent Tupperware tub. He slid it into the inside pocket of his coat then brought out his own Tupperware containing the money. He placed it in the sack, tied the top up, his thick gloves making the job peskier than usual, then left the area.

He wandered in the direction of Amazing Arachnids. Spotted a police presence. Smirked and made his way to the exit. Back in his car, he was tempted to inspect what he’d collected but decided to wait until he arrived home. After that, he could have some dinner—beef, carrots, onions, gravy—and dumplings, mustn’t forget those—then wait for the night to come.

Tonight.

Ah, how he loved the idea of tonight.

Chapter Seven

“Want me to save the juicy details for The Pig or would you prefer them now?” Marla asked.

In the