One Night Read Online Free PDF Page B

bone. I felt I had swallowed
something and it had stuck, lead-weight, in my gullet.
    He said hurriedly, ‘I’m looking for
Brent Sedgeworth.’
    ‘You get out! ’
    ‘Please – ’ His eyes were intent,
dark.
    One question hammered in my brain. ‘How
– how did you get in here?’ Automatically, I scanned the room for signs of
forced entry.
    He indicated the front door. ‘You
were out in the woods and it wasn’t locked. I thought no-one was here.’ His
tone was apologetic.
    ‘So you just waltzed in, hoping for
easy pickings?’ I could hardly get the words out. I felt I had swallowed a ball
of barbed wire as I realized what had happened. ‘You hid in the bedroom!’
    ‘I heard you coming back from the
forest with the dog and I didn’t know what to do. I was trying to leave just
now, as you went upstairs.’
    He’d been there all the time –
watching me!
    My throat squeezed tighter. ‘Well, you
just go on and get out like you planned.’
    ‘Please don’t phone the police.’ He
took a step. ‘I can’t let you phone the police.’
    I was in a bad spot. The worst kind
of spot. My eyes turned to the kitchen where the knives were. At this point,
Sticky’s furry bottom bounced as he slipped. His plastered leg shot under his
food bowl. He gave a low, annoyed woof, tottered a short way, and slid under
the table.
    If the man hadn’t already been
aware that the dog was no threat, he definitely knew it now. He took another
step towards me.
    I shrank on the stairs, clutching
the rickety balustrade. He must have seen my expression because he paused. His
eyes shifted to the front door, whether gauging the distance as an escape route
for me or himself, I wasn’t sure. But it was a moment – moment – and I
turned and raced up the stairs for my cell phone.
    I shot into the little box room and
slammed the door shut. I could hear him pounding up behind me. There was no key
in the lock but a tiny slip bolt. I pushed it across, raced for my bag. I
scrabbled frantically. Couldn’t find the bloody phone! Couldn’t…
    Finally I dragged it out. But it
was too late. The door jam splintered as he slammed against it, smashing the
tiny lock in one blow.
    He came in, lunging at me, his eyes
on the phone.
    ‘Give that to me! Give it to
me.’
    I screamed and reared away from
him. But he was tall, his arms long. He easily grabbed my flailing arms and
pinned me down. My scream strangled to a muffed sob in the back of my throat as
he wrested the phone from me. I heaved against him, trying to push him off. We
were now both half on, half off the bed. I lifted one knee and caught him a
crack on the side of the head.
    ‘Stop it!’ he said sharply as I
bucked futilely under him. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. I just can’t let you
phone the police.’
    I stared at him in utter horror,
remembering the words of the lady in the shop.
    Was this Baby Bunting?
    ‘Fuck you!’ I sobbed. ‘Get away.
Get off me. Leave me alone!’
    He released me slowly, eased away. I
lay on the bed. He sank to the floor, half-sitting, half-crouching. He said, ‘This
has nothing to do with you.’
    I snorted, wiping away tears of
fright and frustration. My body felt weak with shock. There was a sharp taste
of bile in the back of my throat. Helplessly, I watched him slip my cell phone into
his pocket.
    ‘I’d hoped to find Brent here but
it seems the bastard’s vanished as usual.’
    My eyes were glued on him, my heart
thumping ninety to the dozen. He wasn’t behaving like a nutcase rapist. In fact
he was hardly looking at me. He seemed more concerned by the fact that Brent
was missing. Relief and caution mixed with these details as though they’d been
marked with glitter. I noted the strong line of his brow, a straight nose in a
long, pale face, dark shadows under intent brown eyes. He didn’t look like a
nutter. There was a clean, neat line to his profile that encouraged trust. He
was looking for Brent; an angry man wanting – something – an