Read Online Give Yourself Away by Barbara Elsborg - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Elsborg
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house next door. On the other hand, they could be in the middle of nowhere. Tye might end up lost, or he might fall and break his leg. Baxter wished he were running with him, but there was no way he’d fit through that window. He pushed to his feet, dragged the mattress back to the middle of the room and dropped onto it to wait.
Liam was going to be angry. He hadn’t been angry with them yet, but Baxter could feel it bubbling under the surface of his skin like boils about to erupt. Baxter wished he’d never stopped to talk to him. His mum had told him not to speak to strangers, but it wasn’t as if Liam had approached them, it was the other way around. That was why Baxter had thought Liam was safe. He looked harmless. Baxter was an idiot.
Baxter wasn’t sure if Tye had understood what Liam wanted with them and was only pretending he didn’t, but, then, Baxter had pretended too. Pretended the police would find them soon, though it had been five days since they were taken. Pretended nothing bad would happen to them and this would have a happy ending and be an adventure that would make them heroes at school.
The tray of food still lay at the top of the steps. Because they’d spent so much time sleeping, they’d worked out Liam was drugging them. Yesterday’s meals had gone down the toilet and they had drunk from the sink. Though being half-asleep wasn’t all bad. It stopped them worrying, and let Baxter hold Tye without feeling like a perv.
He’d not had the chance to tell Tye how much he liked him. Maybe now he never would. Baxter curled up, worried about what would happen when Liam realized Tye was gone. What if Liam caught Tye and didn’t come back?
He tensed as the door opened. Liam shoved Tye down the steps, the tray falling with him. Baxter stumbled to his feet and rushed to Tye’s side. Tye’s mouth was bleeding and his T-shirt was ripped.
“No more of that shit,” Liam snapped. “You better start thinking about how to make me happy. Tell me when you’ve picked which one of you I should let go.”
“What?” Baxter croaked.
“Two of you are too much trouble. You plot. I only want one. I’ll drive the other somewhere and drop them off. Decide who that’s going to be.”
Baxter knew he wouldn’t be letting one of them go.
* * *
A wave broke in March’s face and he spit out a mouthful of salt water. In the gathering darkness, Brian, on helm, steered Lymton’s Royal National Lifeboat Institution D-class inflatable through the increasing swell. March and the other volunteer crew member, Kev, clung on to the sides of the craft as it reared and plunged in the rough seas, like a bucking bronco.
It was six in the evening and within six minutes of their pagers going off, their boss, Brian, had picked out March and Kev to crew, and they’d kitted up in thermal wear, drysuits, safety helmets and life jackets. They were heading out to sea in search of a man reported by a guy walking his dog as having fallen off the cliffs at Dorney Point. March didn’t think the chances of surviving the fall were good.
When they arrived at the foot of the cliffs, there was no sign of anyone in the water. Brian cut the engine and they shouted. No response.
“Try the flares,” Brian said.
March wedged the waterproof container between his knees to unscrew it and took out two white parachute flares. The light they’d shed would keep the area illuminated while they scoured the waves for the missing guy. March released one flare after the other and they exploded in the sky, turning the scene bright for several seconds, but there was no sign of anyone in the water.
“Nothing.” Brian restarted the engine.
“Damn,” Kev muttered. “Even if the fall didn’t kill him, he’s probably been knocked senseless on the rocks.”
March let his gaze drop from where lights were flickering on the clifftop, all the way down to the sea, trying to work out where the guy had fallen, wondering if maybe he hadn’t made it
Liam was going to be angry. He hadn’t been angry with them yet, but Baxter could feel it bubbling under the surface of his skin like boils about to erupt. Baxter wished he’d never stopped to talk to him. His mum had told him not to speak to strangers, but it wasn’t as if Liam had approached them, it was the other way around. That was why Baxter had thought Liam was safe. He looked harmless. Baxter was an idiot.
Baxter wasn’t sure if Tye had understood what Liam wanted with them and was only pretending he didn’t, but, then, Baxter had pretended too. Pretended the police would find them soon, though it had been five days since they were taken. Pretended nothing bad would happen to them and this would have a happy ending and be an adventure that would make them heroes at school.
The tray of food still lay at the top of the steps. Because they’d spent so much time sleeping, they’d worked out Liam was drugging them. Yesterday’s meals had gone down the toilet and they had drunk from the sink. Though being half-asleep wasn’t all bad. It stopped them worrying, and let Baxter hold Tye without feeling like a perv.
He’d not had the chance to tell Tye how much he liked him. Maybe now he never would. Baxter curled up, worried about what would happen when Liam realized Tye was gone. What if Liam caught Tye and didn’t come back?
He tensed as the door opened. Liam shoved Tye down the steps, the tray falling with him. Baxter stumbled to his feet and rushed to Tye’s side. Tye’s mouth was bleeding and his T-shirt was ripped.
“No more of that shit,” Liam snapped. “You better start thinking about how to make me happy. Tell me when you’ve picked which one of you I should let go.”
“What?” Baxter croaked.
“Two of you are too much trouble. You plot. I only want one. I’ll drive the other somewhere and drop them off. Decide who that’s going to be.”
Baxter knew he wouldn’t be letting one of them go.
* * *
A wave broke in March’s face and he spit out a mouthful of salt water. In the gathering darkness, Brian, on helm, steered Lymton’s Royal National Lifeboat Institution D-class inflatable through the increasing swell. March and the other volunteer crew member, Kev, clung on to the sides of the craft as it reared and plunged in the rough seas, like a bucking bronco.
It was six in the evening and within six minutes of their pagers going off, their boss, Brian, had picked out March and Kev to crew, and they’d kitted up in thermal wear, drysuits, safety helmets and life jackets. They were heading out to sea in search of a man reported by a guy walking his dog as having fallen off the cliffs at Dorney Point. March didn’t think the chances of surviving the fall were good.
When they arrived at the foot of the cliffs, there was no sign of anyone in the water. Brian cut the engine and they shouted. No response.
“Try the flares,” Brian said.
March wedged the waterproof container between his knees to unscrew it and took out two white parachute flares. The light they’d shed would keep the area illuminated while they scoured the waves for the missing guy. March released one flare after the other and they exploded in the sky, turning the scene bright for several seconds, but there was no sign of anyone in the water.
“Nothing.” Brian restarted the engine.
“Damn,” Kev muttered. “Even if the fall didn’t kill him, he’s probably been knocked senseless on the rocks.”
March let his gaze drop from where lights were flickering on the clifftop, all the way down to the sea, trying to work out where the guy had fallen, wondering if maybe he hadn’t made it
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