Chapter 32
“Get off me, you...you...”
“Shut up, Emma.” Christopher’s calm, level voice acted as a warning, silencing her. He reached out to take her hand and she took a swipe at him with it. His dark brown eyes flared and a smirk spread across his handsome face. “Feisty! It would’ve been fun, darlin’.” He reached again and successfully pinioned her wrist between vicelike fingers. He kept one eye on the two men in front and when Emma finally stopped wriggling, he looked down at her hand. Prising her fist open, he smoothed long fingers across her palm as though unfolding a piece of paper. The backs of his fingers were dusted with dark hairs as he used them to write something on the soft skin. It tickled and Emma jerked her hand away. Christopher shook his head a fraction and began again.
His long index finger caressed Emma’s palm with long sensuous strokes and she grew still.
Keep...quiet...
Emma watched without turning her head. Christopher gave her a sideways glance, waiting for a response. She nodded once and he smoothed her palm again, removing the invisible sentence.
Do...as...I...say...
Emma exhaled in a snuff and rolled her eyes, fear beginning to take hold of her heart and squeeze it until she found it hard to fill her lungs.
You...ok...?
Emma shook her head and bit her lip, seeing Christopher’s eyebrows knot together in concern. He stretched his fingers out across her palm and rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb.
“What’re you doing back there?”
Emma jumped, embarrassed to hear the whimper escape her lips. For the first time since entering the car, she took note of the driver and passenger. The men from the nightclub sat in front of her, the stockier one of the two looking straight at her, his head twisted round from the passenger seat. His blue eyes bulged and his unshaven face looked flaccid and beefy.
“The wee lass is scared,” Christopher answered, sounding bored.
“Yeah, well keep her quiet!” the man spat. “We don’t want no trouble.”
“That’s what I am doing ya wee shite!” Christopher bit back. “Now turn ya fat face round, yer makin’ me sick!”
“Can you ‘ear this?” The man jabbed his thumb backwards towards the back seat and the driver nodded.
“Yeah. Don’t worry about it. Just watch out ‘e dun’t put ‘is hand round yer throat from behind and snap yer neck!”
The passenger screwed his neck round again, turning his eyes on Christopher with suspicion in his face. Christopher rewarded him with a beatific smile in return and the man sat back round, keeping his head well away from the headrest, just in case.
Emma watched her companion smirk so broadly he bit down on his bottom lip to control it. A cute dimple appeared in his right cheek and he glanced at Emma with mischief in his brown eyes. Alarmed, Emma tugged at her hand to release it from his grasp. He tightened his grip and turned his beautiful face to her, his eyes dancing and sparkling in their deep sockets. Christopher raised an eyebrow and winked.
Emma’s eyes widened. The man treated everything like a game. Unable to work out which side he was on, she panicked, yanking her hand hard and breaking free. The car moved at a steady pace through traffic on Northampton Road heading south and Emma grappled with the door handle.
The passenger reached around with grasping fingers and snatched hold of Emma’s leg, pinching so hard she cried out in pain. “Sit still!” he yelled at her. Emma pulled at the door handle repeatedly, her breath hitching as it refused to open.
“Get hold of ‘er!” the driver yelled at Christopher. He turned to his passenger. “I knew you should’ve sat in the back with ‘er!”
“She wouldn’t get in for me, would she?” he screeched back, digging his fingers so hard into Emma’s thigh, her leg began to go numb.
Christopher sat in the back next to her, separated by the middle seat. His narrowed eyes observed Emma’s hysterics with casual interest and she shot a frenzied, horrified look in his direction. Unable to get out of the door, she turned her wasted aggression on him instead. She leaned towards him, bending the passenger’s fingers backwards in the movement so he roared in pain and withdrew his hand from her thigh. Then she aimed to thump Christopher hard in the face. His body arched back with amusement in his eyes, lighting the fuse in Emma’s sanity and leaving her little choice.
“She bit me!” Christopher sounded so shocked, his voice rose a few octaves and the two men in front laughed, dispersing the tension. The traffic cleared as Emma made another lurch for his arm, sinking her teeth into the flesh underneath his jacket. “Stop, you little...” Christopher put his palm in front of her face, bending her head up and squashing her nose painfully against hard bone. Undeterred, Emma snapped at the fleshy palm against her lips, securing a thin piece of skin between her two front teeth. Christopher swore like a sailor and the men in the front of the vehicle laughed again, dulling his voice as he leaned down and whispered in Emma’s ear. “If you want them to treat you bad, you’re goin’ the right way about it!”
Emma sat up with a huge inhalation, her anger dissipating with Christopher’s warning. “I hate you!” she hissed, shifting her legs across the ridge between their foot wells. She administered a last painful kick at Christopher’s calf and he leaned down and pinned her by the shin.
“Enough!” he shouted. Emma felt his breath on her face, stirring the hair which escaped down her cheeks in wispy tendrils. She sat up, her eyes filling with tears and her bottom lip protruding like a child’s.
“Don’t cry, don’t cry,” Christopher whispered. He looked genuinely pained as he brushed the hair out of her face with gentle fingers. Emma sniffed, the last of her resolve draining away and Christopher unclipped his seatbelt and shifted over towards her. “Come ‘ere.” He pulled her stiff body into his kissing the top of her head and wrapping his arms around her. An irritating noise sounded in the front of the car, a persistent bell clanging in warning.
“Put yer seatbelt back on!” the driver shouted, jerking his head backwards.
“Shut it!” Christopher snapped over the top of Emma’s head. “She’s upset.”
“I don’t care, get it back on!”
“Stop the car and I’ll just shoot him in the legs!” the passenger said to the driver and Emma froze and let out a moan of dismay.
“No, no, I’ll stop! I’ll behave!” she pleaded, her brown eyes wide and terrified as she looked up at Christopher. His eyes flashed surprise and then pleasure as he scooted round and clipped the centre lap belt across his stomach. His long legs splayed either side of the ridge and he wound a strong, masculine right arm around Emma’s shoulders. The alarm on the dashboard ceased. She buried her face in his shoulder and allowed frightened tears to dampen his jacket. Her hand rested gently on his thigh and one handed, Christopher turned it over and flattened her palm out.
Help...will...come...
Emma peered up with trusting brown eyes, praying he was right. She linked her fingers through his and tried to calm down, grounding herself in the safety Christopher gave her. He was a double crossing Irish git, but for now he seemed to be in as much strife as her
“What about Nicky?” she whispered and the passenger immediately turned round and faced her. Emma realised with a jolt, why Christopher kept signing on her hand.
“Who’s Nicky?” he asked, bulging eyes red rimmed and unpleasant.
Emma’s mouth opened but the look on his face stopped her before she risked her son’s safety too.
“The dog,” Christopher said. “It’s fine. It ran down the road. It’ll probably get run over.”
“Yeah, well it better,” the man growled. “Let’s just hope it’s not chipped.”
The journey took six hours, during which Christopher held Emma’s hand and observed the two men up front through cold, expressionless brown eyes. The day disappeared from under them, the last vestiges of daylight claimed by blackness and yellow street lamps. Emma was desperately uncomfortable after the third
hour, fighting a need for the toilet which grew overwhelming. They drew up outside a huge house made of red brick, somewhere north of the sign for Falkirk. The sudden lack of engine noise sounded deafening and Emma’s ears hummed without its constant buzz.
“I’m busting for the toilet,” she complained and Christopher’s hand tightened on her wrist.
“We all are!” the passenger snapped. “But we couldn’t exactly stop, could we?”
Emma’s door was opened and the man put his hand inside. “You get out nice and slow and no stupid moves. Otherwise we just shoot ya and be done with this shit!”
Emma leaned up against the side of the car, clenching her nether regions to prevent an accident. Christopher seemed impossibly long exiting and emerged rubbing his backside. “Geez, my ass has gone to sleep!” he exclaimed.
“Well, nobody told yer to sit in the middle, did they?” the driver remarked grumpily. His bald head glowed in the overhead light from the front door. The building was so huge, it extended either side of the lighted area and rose up before them, an imposing structure in daylight but overbearing at night. Their new prison was to be a Scottish stately home.
Both men pushed Christopher round to face the side of the car, using his temporary weakness to force his hands behind his back and slip handcuffs onto his wrists. He groaned as they tightened them with unnecessary cruelty.
Emma panicked, backing away and shaking her head. “No, no, no! Please don’t put any on me. I’m gonna pee myself!” Hysteria laced her voice.
“They won’t if yer just do as yer told,” Christopher reassured her gently. His dark fringe hung over his eyes and he looked exhausted. Emma hobbled over to his side as the driver pulled him away from the car and pushed him towards the enormous front door.