Read Online Before It's Too Late by Jane Isaac - Free Book Online

over.”
    Jackman leant sideways to look past her and glanced across at the curved end of the bar where an elderly man stood supping from a pint. He turned back to Annie and rolled his eyes. The tension in the air immediately dissolved.
    “Got ya!” she chuckled.
    “Like I said, you don’t change.” He slung the rest of the mineral water down his throat and stood. “Right, I’m off to see if Celia fancies a nightcap. See you tomorrow.”

    He pulled into the byway and parked up as soon as the mixture of bramble hedging and established oaks concealed him from the road. He got out of the car, grabbed the bag from the back seat and stopped for a moment to look around.
    Satisfied he was alone, he trudged up the path away from the road. The mud beneath him, baked hard from the sun, felt uneven under his feet. His rucksack bounced against his back and by the time he reached the end of the track, it felt heavy. He switched on his head torch to navigate the copse. An arc of light exposed the lush broad-leaf branches above. Thick bracken covered the floor. He had to be careful here. Tree roots protruded and lurked about, ready to trip him. Branches reached out to catch at his jacket. But it didn’t bother him. He’d navigated this route several times, always under the cover of darkness. It had become second nature.
    Within minutes he was through the copse and out the other side. A rustling in the distance caught his attention. He stopped, moved back towards the trees and switched off his head torch. Several moments passed. His eyes grew accustomed to the darkness and darted about for any sign of movement. Then he saw it: black and white stripes ran down its face, its dark speckled back waddled from side to side as it moved across the path in front of him. The badger stopped and gave him a fleeting glance before continuing on its path.
    He exhaled, long and hard, and waited until it disappeared from sight before he felt it was safe to switch the torch back on. Even then he hesitated and cast a slow glance around him, the torch illuminating the area in strips of light. The air was quiet and still. He’d almost reached the old airfield when his feet found the concrete. He pulled the torch off his head, walked across to the shelter and entered. Dropping his bag down, he rummaged for the black hood and slung it over his head, before replacing the torch, then lent forward to unlock the chain.
    The grill grated as he pulled it back and looked inside.
    She was lying amongst the shadows that danced around the walls. Her legs were tucked to the side, hands lifted to shade her face from the splintering light of his head torch. Her dark hair hung in a tangled mess around her shoulders. He could just about make out the contour of her breast, the curve of her hip. Even in this state her beauty was almost mesmerising.
    “Please. Don’t hurt me!” she cried.
    He said nothing, marvelling at the soft intonation in her voice. Her words couldn’t be harsh even if she wanted them to be.
    “Please!” She moved her hands back and forth across her face. He could see what she was trying to do – she wanted to catch a glimpse of her captor. But even if her eyes penetrated the bright bulb in his head torch, they couldn’t see beneath the hood. The view was for his eyes only. This time.
    “Please, let me go. I won’t tell anyone.”
    He ignored her calls, untied a couple of blankets from the bottom of his pack and threw them down. Then, retrieving the packs of food and water from inside his rucksack, he crouched down and dropped them into the pit. They made loud thuds as they hit the ground. The noise made him jerk back and instinctively grab the grill.
    “No! Don’t go.” Her words were fractured, urgent. He paused and stared at the figure, now curled in up in the corner, her body wrapped around itself like a cat. A film of dirt covered the bare skin that peeped through her torn clothing. And, as he dragged the grill across, he heard her