Run Away With Me : A fast-paced psychological thriller by Daniel Hurst (free e novels TXT) 📗

interest before they thanked me for my time and left, promising me that they would be in touch should they have any further news about my missing wife. I thanked them for their time and watched them drive away in their vehicle before allowing two minutes to pass before getting in my own car and heading back to this cottage. With that piece of the plan ticked off, it’s time to move on to the next stage, and I’m excited about this part. Things are going to start moving quickly now, and it’s vital that they do. Laura could give birth at any moment, but I want this all wrapped up and concluded before that happens.

I finish pouring the cranberry juice into the cup, but before I return the carton to the fridge, I take a few seconds to pour some of it down the sink. The less we have means the more we will need, and considering how much Laura likes to drink it, I’m going to have to ‘pop back into the village and do another shop’ very soon.

What a shame.

I walk back upstairs and re-enter the bedroom, handing the cup to Laura before standing by the window and getting some more practise in with my stoic stare.

‘What are you thinking?’ Laura asks me. She has obviously noticed how distracted I am, which is good because that’s the whole point of a stare like this.

I ignore the question to make it seem like I am lost in my deep and dark thoughts, and she doesn’t bother asking it again. I wish I could answer her. I wish I could tell her what I am really thinking about. That’s because behind this blank stare of mine, my mind is racing with all the excitement and possibility that the next forty-eight hours are going to bring.

The mystery. The mayhem. And the murder.

I want Laura to ask me again. I want to tell her what I am really thinking. I want her to know that she is going to be dead very soon and there is nothing that she can do about it. But she doesn’t ask me, so I just keep staring out of the window at the rain. It’s so dreary out there. I think I’ll take a holiday when this is all over. Somewhere warm and sunny. Somewhere exotic. The Caribbean, perhaps. Or maybe Sri Lanka. Of course, I’ll have to wait a decent amount of time after Laura’s funeral before I go jetting off anywhere. I will have to play the part of the grieving husband, and I can hardly do that if I’m sipping a cocktail on a sun lounger beside a pool. But time will pass quickly, as it seems to do more and more these days, and I will eventually get my day in the sun. I will get my reward for all of the hard work I have put into this plan, as well as for all the pain and suffering I endured before it was hatched. I deserve it too. I just have to stay focused for a little while longer, and then all of this will be over.

I eventually tire of staring out of the window and trying to appear all pensive and moody to my wife, so I turn back around and join her on the bed. She has already finished her drink, and now her eyes are closed as her hands rest on her swollen belly. She looks like she is trying to sleep, and I feel like I might join her in that.

I’ve earned a rest.

It’s been a busy day.

But it’s nothing compared to the one I’m going to have tomorrow.

26

LAURA

There’s not much chance of having another dream again tonight. That’s because I can’t sleep.

There’s simply too much running through my mind.

I can feel Adam wriggling in the bed beside me, so I know he isn’t getting much rest either, although he seems to be managing it a little better than I am. I did hear him gently snoring around half an hour ago, so he did at least manage to drift off for a little while. I, on the hand, have been staring up at the dark ceiling for the majority of the time since we turned the lights off in here, and despite my weary body demanding me to close my eyes, I refuse to. How can I allow myself the peace of sleep when my real world is so chaotic?

I know what I need to do. I know I won’t be able to rest until I have done it.

Therefore, I need to go and do it.

I peel back the duvet carefully so as not to disturb Adam before grabbing my phone, scooping up a few of my clothes from the floor and heading for the door. I wait until I am far enough away from the bedroom before I start to get dressed, throwing on a pair of jogging bottoms and a sweater and trying to keep my balance in the dark as I put my socks over my feet. Feeling slightly more prepared to be wandering around a cold cottage in the middle of the night now, I head downstairs where I quickly put my coat on and zip it up as silently as I can. The cottage is so quiet that even the tiniest of sounds seems ridiculously loud, but I do my best to make it to the front door as delicately as I can before turning the handle slowly and feeling the frigid air seeping in from outside. Only a madwoman would go outside on this hilltop at this time of night, but my lack of sleep has got me feeling more than qualified for that title now.

I step outside the cottage and take a painfully long time to close the door behind me because I can’t afford to ruin all my hard work and make a noise that will result in Adam hearing me and