the face. Once. Twice. Three times. He tasted copper in his mouth; his upper lip had been pierced on a tooth.
Then she grabbed his arm, digging her fingertips into the seared flesh of his stump.
Stars flashed before his eyes and a high pitched yelp was wrenched up from deep inside him. It was so loud he woke up Tim.
“What’s happening,” he asked groggily.
Craig couldn’t answer. He sat there panting, bathed in a cold sweat.
He twisted his head round when Bish entered the room, carrying a small pile of dinner plates with cutlery balanced on the top.
Margaret dismounted him.
“Dinner won’t be long,” Bish said, setting the table for five places. “Are you going to impregnate yourself before or after dinner?” he asked Margaret.
“ I haven’t decided,” she said, sitting back down on the bench.
“I interrupted Michael earlier, the poor bastard.”
“Never mind. I’m sure he’ll make up for it. Is she going to eat dinner with us or should we leave her in bed?”
“She should eat dinner, don’t you think? She is family now, after all,” Bish said.
“Yes. I ‘ spose she is.”
Craig’s head reeled. Margaret was going to what? Impregnate herself? Surely she didn’t mean with him?
“How long will dinner be?” Jake asked Bish.
“Half an hour, the meat needs to tenderise a little more.”
“I might pay the little lady a visit upstairs,” Old Jake said, getting to his feet and rubbing the crotch of his trousers. “You don’t mind do you?”
“No,” Bish and Margaret replied.
“You leave Beth alone,” Craig said.
“You need to forget about her,” Margaret said. “You’ve got me now.”
“Just let her go,” he repeated pathetically.
“Won’t be long,” Old Jake said, shuffling towards the door.
“Oh, and Jake?” Bish called after him.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t do too much damage, she has to be with child for nine months, remember?”
“Yes, yes, I’ ll control myself.”
“I mean it. Brother or no brother, I’ll ram your head up your arse if you go too far, do you understand? This is really importa nt for our family.”
“ Yes, I get it.”
Craig watched Old Jake’s retreating back, leaving him alone with Margaret and Bish.
Margaret smiled at him and inside his soul shrivelled. It was the smile of a wom an on a promise.
CHAPTER SIX.
Beth didn’t how long she’d been hiding behind the door. It felt like forever although it had to be less than half an hour. She thought about turning off the light to give her the edge. But that would draw attention to the room when Michael had most assuredly kept the light on.
If Michael was the first to enter the room, then she was fucked. But if it was one of the other two then maybe, just maybe, she stood a chance.
She pulled the length of rope taut that was wrapped around each wrist and flexed it.
This is the only way, she told herself, summoning up bravery she didn’t even know she possessed.
The window was boarded up and the door was locked. What other choice did she have?
She strained her ear against the door. She could voices. The distant clatter of pots and pans and kitchen sounds.
The smell of cooking wafted up to the room. A slow cook stew, or something. Despite her fear, her mouth watered. She was hungry and thirsty, and whatever it was cooking sure did smell good, masking the rotten odour of the place.
Then she remembered glimpsing the corpse in the pub kitchen and her stomach lurched.
Surely they’re not cooking…
She couldn’t even finish the thought. It was just too horrible.
Another horrible thought entered her head.
What if it is Michael that comes back first? He’s massive, there’s no way I’ll be able to reach that fucker’s neck, yet alone strangle him…
“This ain’t gonna work,” she muttered, making her way back over to the bed.
She would just have to lie down again and pretend she was tied to the bed. That way she would be better able to catch off guard
Then she grabbed his arm, digging her fingertips into the seared flesh of his stump.
Stars flashed before his eyes and a high pitched yelp was wrenched up from deep inside him. It was so loud he woke up Tim.
“What’s happening,” he asked groggily.
Craig couldn’t answer. He sat there panting, bathed in a cold sweat.
He twisted his head round when Bish entered the room, carrying a small pile of dinner plates with cutlery balanced on the top.
Margaret dismounted him.
“Dinner won’t be long,” Bish said, setting the table for five places. “Are you going to impregnate yourself before or after dinner?” he asked Margaret.
“ I haven’t decided,” she said, sitting back down on the bench.
“I interrupted Michael earlier, the poor bastard.”
“Never mind. I’m sure he’ll make up for it. Is she going to eat dinner with us or should we leave her in bed?”
“She should eat dinner, don’t you think? She is family now, after all,” Bish said.
“Yes. I ‘ spose she is.”
Craig’s head reeled. Margaret was going to what? Impregnate herself? Surely she didn’t mean with him?
“How long will dinner be?” Jake asked Bish.
“Half an hour, the meat needs to tenderise a little more.”
“I might pay the little lady a visit upstairs,” Old Jake said, getting to his feet and rubbing the crotch of his trousers. “You don’t mind do you?”
“No,” Bish and Margaret replied.
“You leave Beth alone,” Craig said.
“You need to forget about her,” Margaret said. “You’ve got me now.”
“Just let her go,” he repeated pathetically.
“Won’t be long,” Old Jake said, shuffling towards the door.
“Oh, and Jake?” Bish called after him.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t do too much damage, she has to be with child for nine months, remember?”
“Yes, yes, I’ ll control myself.”
“I mean it. Brother or no brother, I’ll ram your head up your arse if you go too far, do you understand? This is really importa nt for our family.”
“ Yes, I get it.”
Craig watched Old Jake’s retreating back, leaving him alone with Margaret and Bish.
Margaret smiled at him and inside his soul shrivelled. It was the smile of a wom an on a promise.
CHAPTER SIX.
Beth didn’t how long she’d been hiding behind the door. It felt like forever although it had to be less than half an hour. She thought about turning off the light to give her the edge. But that would draw attention to the room when Michael had most assuredly kept the light on.
If Michael was the first to enter the room, then she was fucked. But if it was one of the other two then maybe, just maybe, she stood a chance.
She pulled the length of rope taut that was wrapped around each wrist and flexed it.
This is the only way, she told herself, summoning up bravery she didn’t even know she possessed.
The window was boarded up and the door was locked. What other choice did she have?
She strained her ear against the door. She could voices. The distant clatter of pots and pans and kitchen sounds.
The smell of cooking wafted up to the room. A slow cook stew, or something. Despite her fear, her mouth watered. She was hungry and thirsty, and whatever it was cooking sure did smell good, masking the rotten odour of the place.
Then she remembered glimpsing the corpse in the pub kitchen and her stomach lurched.
Surely they’re not cooking…
She couldn’t even finish the thought. It was just too horrible.
Another horrible thought entered her head.
What if it is Michael that comes back first? He’s massive, there’s no way I’ll be able to reach that fucker’s neck, yet alone strangle him…
“This ain’t gonna work,” she muttered, making her way back over to the bed.
She would just have to lie down again and pretend she was tied to the bed. That way she would be better able to catch off guard
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