The Hurricane
Page 79“I love you, Mrs. O’Connell,” he whispered in my ear, before kissing me gently on the lips. I didn’t know why, perhaps it was the emotion of the moment, but it brought tears to my eyes.
“Love you, too, O’Connell.”
“Kier, can you show her where the changing room is and make sure she gets there safely? I’ll keep the sponsors happy till you get back and do your thing.”
“No problem.” Kier grinned.
He looked so happy, and I knew he’d worked just as hard as Danny to get his best friend to this point. O’Connell disappeared into the crowd, and Kieran looped his arm around my neck to guide me to the changing rooms.
“What about the guys?” I asked him.
“Hey,” Kier called out, “you lot fancy meeting us at Murphy’s in an hour? Con wants some alone time with his girl before the party,” he said suggestively, as I turned bright red.
He’d basically just announced to all of our friends that I was having sex before I met up with them.
“Sounds good,” shouted Albie. “See you there.”
“Why’s there no security?” I asked as we approached the main door to the back of the arena. Last time, there’d been a beefy guard outside.
“I guess they only hang around until the fight is over. People lost a fair bit of money betting against Con tonight, so they’re probably pretty busy breaking up a few fights of their own.”
“Fucking smug, the pair of you, ain’tcha?” Sylvia was absolutely plastered as she slurred and staggered toward us.
“I fucking birthed that boy, dragged him up and fed him. I deserve a cut of his pay now,” she screamed.
“Fuck off, Sylvia. You did fuck all for Con from the day he was born. You know what he said. He’s done. You ain’t getting another penny out of him.”
“You’re such a cocky little shit. Always whispering in his ear and turnin’ him against me. Well, you ain’t doin’ it this time. If he won’t listen to me, then I’m having a word with them sponsors.”
She staggered off as Kieran muttered a “Fuck,” his earlier excitement gone.
“I’m gonna have to get her out of here before she fucks things up with his sponsors. You okay to go ahead on your own? Just go straight down the corridor to the end, then turn left and it’s the red door with the number seven on it.”
“Just go,” I urged him, and he disappeared after Sylvia.
The corridors were empty and slightly creepy as they echoed dully with the noise of the crowd. The chilled, windowless space was a complete contrast to the heat of the arena, and I hurried to find the right changing room, knowing that I’d find one of O’Connell’s big thick hoodies in his changing bag. The door was indistinguishable from all of the others, save for the number. It opened easily, and I wondered, as it shut behind me, why the boys didn’t worry about people letting themselves in and nicking their stuff.
“Hello, Emily. It’s been a long time.”
I swung around to find the object of my nightmares standing between me and my only exit. I opened my mouth to scream, but I never got the chance. Raising up his fist, Frank punched me hard in the face, smacking me into the wall, and everything went black.
WHEN I CAME TO, I quickly wished I hadn’t. Thick nylon rope bound my hands and feet to the bars of a dirty, metal framed bed. I had no idea where I was, but the tiny room was filthy. Dark and moth-eaten curtains blocked out most of the natural light. My mouth was as dry as sandpaper and the left side of my face hurt so much that I couldn’t lay on it. Frank always did prefer the left. He’d fractured the same cheek last time. A few doors opened and closed close by, and my heart pounded, fearing what I knew was coming. I couldn’t believe that I’d let my guard down. How stupid was I to think that he’d ever stop looking for me?
The door opened, and there stood the vile, perverted man who haunted me.
“Awake at last.” He grinned maliciously.
“Why are you here?” I croaked at him, my voice rusty from thirst and disuse.
He was delusional if he thought I was ever going back with him. At the first sign of life, I was going scream as loud as I could. My eyes darted around the room, and I guessed that we were in a flat of some sort. I contemplated screaming now, but if no one heard, I couldn’t risk Frank gagging me.
“I can see what you’re thinking, princess, but let me give you a little warning.”
He reached down the back of his trousers and pulled out a knife. I recognised it instantly as his fishing knife. Although he’d never used it on me, he’d threatened me with it plenty of times. It was ridiculously big for a fishing knife and looked new. He liked to keep it sharp and shiny, although rusty and covered in blood would have equally terrified me. Walking over to me, he took his time looking me up and down. Not in a sexual way, but in the way a butcher might eye a piece of meat as he worked out the best place to make a cut. Sitting down next to me on the cot, I squirmed against my bindings as I tried to move as far away from him as possible. He chuckled at my fruitless efforts and stopped me, stock still, when he used the tip of the knife to push up my top and expose my midriff. When I woke up tied to the bed, my first worry was rape. Now, my fear ran much deeper. Lifting up his left hand, he ran his fingertips across my ribs and belly.
“Such beautiful skin,” he mumbled, under his breath.
Then, with a sigh of almost remorse, he pierced the skin with the blade of the knife and ran it across my torso. I cried out hopelessly, as blood pooled around the cut. I thought it was quite shallow, but it was long, and hurt like you wouldn’t believe.
“Now, it’s a shame to cut that lovely skin, but I’m used to teaching you lessons you don’t want to learn. So, you scream as long and as loud as you like, but I cut with every scream. The longer and louder the scream, the deeper and longer the cut. Now, let’s see who quits first.”