Run Away With Me : A fast-paced psychological thriller by Daniel Hurst (ebook reader ink txt) 📕

been anywhere else since she came home. But before I run up the stairs and ask her some questions, I pause and try to calm myself down.

Yes, I’m worried about the fact that Laura might be tormenting me by pretending there was a camera at the cottage, but I need to stay calm in case there is a simpler explanation to this. If my wife has remembered something, then I need to proceed with caution. If she hasn’t, then I still need to do the same because I’d hate to do anything that might help jog her memory.

I take a deep breath and remove my jacket, hanging it over the edge of the bannister as I plot my next course of action. I’ll go upstairs calmly and quietly and take a seat beside my wife, asking her how she feels like I have done on all the previous occasions I have been to check on her. Then, when I am sure that she is relaxed, I will mention to her that I spoke to Kat about the camera and my sister confirmed that there is no such thing. Based on my wife’s reaction to that news, I will hopefully be able to tell if she knew that already.

If Laura does remember what really happened, she would know that the prospect of a security camera would frighten the life out of me. That’s why I need to be guarded as I climb the stairs and prepare to walk in on her. I don’t want to frighten the life out of her too.

But when I open the door, I see no sign of her in the bedroom. The duvet is pulled back, and she is not lying on the sheets like she was when I left her. The only thing I do see on the bed is a letter.

I pick it up and read it as quickly as I can. But there aren’t many words on it.

Only three in fact.

I remember everything.

The paper falls to the floor as I try to stay calm and figure out my next move. Okay, so Laura remembers. But so what? She has no evidence. The camera was a lie designed to panic me. But panicking won’t get a conviction. Neither will her story by itself. She needs proof.

Does she have any?

The fact that she isn’t here makes me worry that she might.

I take out my phone and call my wife, praying that she picks up. I will be careful not to say anything to her that might incriminate me if she answers. I will keep calm and simply ask her where she is. My reaction then will depend on what she says to that.

Laura picks up on the second ring.

‘I’ve been waiting for you to call,’ she says to me in a disturbingly calm voice.

‘Where are you?’

‘I’m at my favourite little holiday home.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘The cottage, Adam. I’m at your sister’s cottage.’

‘What the hell are you doing there? You’re supposed to be resting.’

I make sure to keep up my impression of a worried husband just in case the police are listening in on this call. I wonder if Laura realises what I am doing.

‘Drop the bullshit,’ she quickly tells me.

I guess I have my answer.

‘I need you to come to the cottage right away,’ Laura tells me.

My first instinct is that this is a trap.

‘Why would I do that?’

‘Because it’s the only way you will ever see Gemma again.’

Laura’s words hit me like a bullet.

What the hell is she talking about?

‘Laura, what have you done?’

‘I haven’t done anything yet, but I will do if you don’t get here soon. Your lover is not as much fun to be around as mine was.’

I squeeze the phone in my hand as I keep it pressed to my ear. The bitch.

Would Laura really hurt Gemma? Why not? I killed the person she had an affair with, so I suppose she thinks it’s only right that she does the same.

But I can’t allow that. I love Gemma. I need her.

‘How do I know you’re telling me the truth?’ I ask.

‘I’ll send you a photo,’ she replies, and I hear a beep on my phone that tells me I have just received a media message.

‘If you’re not here in half an hour then that photo will be the last thing you ever see of her.’

Laura hangs up as I quickly scramble to look at the image on my phone.

I open it and see Gemma’s face.

She isn’t smiling.

Laura is telling the truth.

She has her.

60

LAURA

I peer out of the window at the green hills and the grey sky.

It’s funny. I spent so much time here before wishing I was somewhere else, but now, I feel happy to be here. I’m happy because I know Adam is on his way to this cottage and all of this will be over just as soon as he arrives.

Having made the phone call to my husband from the main road, I have since returned to the cottage where I am eagerly awaiting having some company. Checking the time on my phone, I return my gaze to the dirt track, expecting to see Adam’s car turn onto it at any moment now. Sure enough, two minutes later, I spot it.

Here he is; my husband, rushing to save the life of his other woman.

What a guy.  

I step away from the window and take a seat on the sofa, doing my best to keep my heart rate down as I wait for Adam to storm in here and demand to know what I am doing. He can be as angry and chaotic as he wants to be, but I have to remain calm, at least for a few more minutes anyway.

I hear the car engine cut off outside and two seconds later the front door to the cottage opens and Adam steps in.

‘Where is she?’ he demands to know when he spots me sitting in front of him.

‘You’re too late,’ I say,