The Role Model: A shocking psychological thriller with several twists by Daniel Hurst (read aloud TXT) 📕

‘It wasn’t my daughter’s fault,’ I say, figuring that it’s worth pointing that out just in case it can help improve this situation. ‘It was an accident.’

‘Was it an accident that you dug that hole?’ he asks me, glancing at me with a grin that makes me hate him even more than I already do.

‘I was just trying to protect my daughter. Do you have kids? If not, then you won’t understand.’

‘If it was an accident, then why hide it? Why not just call the police and tell them the truth?’

‘It’s not as simple as that. I didn’t know if they’d believe her, and even if they did, I didn’t want her life being ruined because of it.’

‘So you decided to ruin it another way instead? You decided to keep it a secret and subject her to a lifetime of guilt?’

It does sound bad when it’s put like that.

‘I panicked,’ I confess, breaking off from the walk for a moment and hoping that Jimmy will do the same. ‘I know it was wrong, and I feel terrible for what I did, but it’s too late now, isn’t it? I can’t change it. I can only make things worse.’

‘For yourself and your daughter, maybe,’ Jimmy says, still walking, and I’m forced to catch him up again. ‘But not for Rupert’s family. Don’t they deserve to know what happened?’

‘Of course they do. But I can’t tell them. I can’t tell anyone. Otherwise, Chloe’s life will be ruined.’

‘And yours,’ Jimmy reminds me. ‘She’ll get prison time, but you’ll get plenty too.’

He’s stating the obvious there, so I don’t bother replying.

‘But maybe it doesn’t have to come to that,’ he goes on, only now pausing and standing still for the first time since this conversation began.

‘What do you want?’ I ask, preparing myself to be given a figure so large that it will clean out my bank account and leave me needing to work extra shifts at the police station for the next ten years.

‘That’s a good question,’ he muses, running his hand over the stubble on his cheeks. ‘What do you think it is that I want?’

‘Money, obviously,’ I reply. ‘Just get on with it, and I’ll do my best to get it for you.’

But to my surprise, Jimmy frowns.

‘That’s not what I want at all,’ he tells me with a shake of the head. ‘Why would I want money? I have enough of that already.’

Judging by his shabby appearance, I sincerely doubt that.

‘What then?’ I ask, afraid that it might be something even harder to get for him than that. I don’t have much money, but I was prepared to give it all up to keep my secret safe. But maybe it won’t be that easy.

‘You, Heather,’ Jimmy says, flashing me his yellowish teeth. ‘I want you.’

I try to figure out what he means by that. I have an idea, but I need clarification.

‘Me?’ I repeat back to him. ‘What do you mean, me?’

Jimmy glances around us as if to check that nobody will be able to eavesdrop on what he is about to say. Then he takes a couple of steps closer to me until he is only a few inches away from my face. With his eyes on my lips, I watch him as I wait for his answer.

‘I want a night with you,’ he tells me, his own lips curling into a smile. ‘My choice of venue. My choice of outfit. My choice of how long you have to spend with me. How does that sound?’

I step back away from him and shake my head, clearly displaying that it sounds how it came out. Disgusting.

‘No way,’ I tell him, glaring at his smarmy face. ‘Not a chance.’

‘You might want to take a moment to reconsider,’ he suggests, now grinning even more, if that was at all possible.

I really wish he had just asked for money. That would have been better than this.

‘Here’s my number,’ he tells me, handing me a small bit of paper. ‘If you’re game, text me tonight and I’ll tell you the place to meet tomorrow. If not, then you’ll be receiving a visit from the police.’

Then he turns and walks away as if he hasn’t just given me a ridiculous choice.

‘Wait!’ I call after him, attracting the glances of the father and child who are playing on the grass nearby. But Jimmy doesn’t turn around. He just keeps walking away.

As I watch him leave, I realise that no matter how much I think about it tonight and how much I want things to be different, I ultimately don’t have much of a choice.

I’m going to have to agree to his seedy demand.

24

CHLOE

I heard the front door open a moment ago, and now I’m on my way downstairs to find out how Mum’s meeting went.

I doubt I’m going to hear good news, but maybe it’s not going to be as bad as we feared. But then I see her face, and she doesn’t just look sad.

She looks drained.

‘What happened? Was he there?’

I know I’m bombarding her with questions before she has barely got through the door, but I need to know it all.

‘Slow down,’ Mum tells me as she heads past me into the kitchen, but I follow her in and watch as she takes a wine glass from the cupboard.

That can’t be a good sign.

‘Did he really see us?’ I ask as Mum takes out a bottle of white wine from the fridge and unscrews the cap. She doesn’t usually drink in front of me, presumably because she doesn’t want to set a bad example, but it’s a little late for setting examples now.

‘Oh yeah, he saw us alright,’ she replies, pouring herself a hearty measure and not bothering to screw the lid back on, suggesting this won’t be her only drink of the evening.

‘So what did he ask for? Money?’

I join Mum in taking a seat at the kitchen table and study her for any signs of an answer because she