The Passenger by Daniel Hurst (ready to read books .TXT) 📗

‘Don’t worry. You can keep your toes for now. We’re just scaring your mum. I’m pretty sure that will have done the trick.’

I feel my chest rising and falling fast, and my heart rate must be off the charts as I try to come to terms with what almost happened to me. But my fear is quickly replaced by something else.

Anger.

Without warning, I slam my foot straight into James’s face, sending him sprawling backwards on to the carpet from where he was crouching at the bottom of the bed.

He lets out a howl of pain, and it feels good for a split second. It feels even better when I see him get to his feet and catch sight of the amount of blood pouring from his nose.

‘You stupid bitch!’ he cries, and for a second it looks like I am going to seriously pay for my one brief moment of revenge. There is still a knife in here somewhere, after all, and I’m still tied up.

But then he rushes from the room, and I hear him go into the bathroom, so I can at least relax for a moment. He is probably checking his damaged nose in the mirror.

If only I could get out of these restraints before he comes back.

I wriggle my wrists again, and the cable tie digs into my skin, causing me to grimace in pain. It’s not quite as bad as having a toe cut off, but it’s still not great.

‘Come on!’ I cry in frustration as I shake my wrists and do my best to stretch my restraints away from the bedpost. This bedframe might look sturdy, but I know it isn’t as strong as it appears because I almost broke it once by jumping on it. It was only the fact that Mum dragged me off it that stopped me from causing any real damage, but I remember how she told me how fragile it actually was and that she couldn’t afford to buy a new one if it broke.

But unlike then, I have to put my own selfish needs above money, so I keep pulling and wriggling my arms, putting as much force against the bedpost as I can. If I almost broke this bed once, then surely I can break it now.

Then I hear a crack.

I’m just about to pull again when I hear James walk back into the room, and I stop, desperate not to give away the fact that I was potentially only a few seconds from escape.

I can feel the slack in my restraints from the damaged bedpost and know that I could have snapped it off completely if I had kept going. But I don’t want James to see. I’ll do it when he isn’t looking. But right now, he is staring at me with a bloody face.

‘You’d better pray your mum gives us that code, or I swear to God I’m going to enjoy killing you,’ he says as he holds a tissue over his nose to stem the bleeding.

‘Just let me go!’ I try again even though I know it won’t do me any good.

James says nothing as he continues to treat his injury, and I’m hoping he just goes back into the bathroom, but he remains standing by the bottom of the bed for the moment, which means my chances at making a run for it are reduced. I’ll never get past him if I try now. But if he’s in the bathroom, I could make it to the door before him. I’m just praying I get that chance. That’s because I’ve realised it is my only chance now.

My mum has made it pretty clear that she isn’t willing to give up her money to save my life. If she wanted to do it, then all of this could have been over with by now. She could have given up the code, allowed James to open the safe, and now he would have left, leaving me safe instead of still in a perilous position. But if she hasn’t done it yet, I doubt she ever will. How much more persuading does she need? I almost lost a body part, and I might lose a lot more than that if the look on James’s face is anything to go by.

I can’t believe Mum is allowing this to happen.

I always thought she hated me.

But I didn’t realise she hated me this much.

27

AMANDA

I have my head in my hands and tears in my eyes, and I can’t bring myself to look at the man sitting opposite me. He has just allowed me to listen to my daughter being attacked by his partner at the flat, and I’ll never get the sounds of her desperate cries for help out of my head now.

This is all my fault. Louise would have been counting on me to save her, and I’ve let her down because I thought there was a way out of this that wouldn’t involve me giving up the code to that safe. But I was a fool for thinking like that. No matter what I have done in my past and what secrets I am trying to keep hidden, these men are clearly more dangerous than me.

‘Okay, I’ll give you the code,’ I say, feeling utterly defeated.

‘Finally,’ he replies, and he holds his phone in anticipation to send the sequence of numbers that I am about to give him.

I take a deep breath and go for it. ‘It’s 257—’

‘Good evening. Sorry to trouble you both, but I’m raising money for disadvantaged youths in Brighton, and I was wondering if you would be so kind as to donate? It’s a very good cause, and we have helped hundreds of youngsters so far, including many young children who are—’

I look at the young man standing by our table in his bright yellow bib with a white bucket in hand, and even in my distressed state, I feel touched to see someone like