The Good Die Young (DI Sally Parker Book 11) by M A Comley

Author:M A Comley [Comley, M A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jeamel Publishing Limited
Published: 2023-12-23T16:00:00+00:00

Tim woke up. The bag had been removed, and he was lying on a thin, stained mattress by himself in what appeared to be a bedroom. He struggled to sit upright and leaned against the wall. His eyes adjusted to his surroundings. He just needed his ears to do the same. Nothing, he could hear absolutely zilch. He didn’t even know if he was in the same house or not.

Shit, where are they? Where are Amanda, Cally and Lester? If the kidnappers have kil… I can’t think about that, I just can’t. I refuse to go there.

Tears formed and dripped onto his cheek. His jaw was stiff, although admittedly, less painful than before, so he presumed there was no lasting damage done, different to what he had thought at the time the goon had laid into him.

A noise sounded outside his room. He froze, not daring to breathe. The door opened, and in marched a masked man carrying a shop-bought sandwich and a carton of juice.

“Please, where are my family?” Tim dared to whisper.

The man placed the sandwich and drink on the floor beside him and wrenched his arms round so he could untie them. “Shut up,” he sneered. “Another word and I’ll make you sorry. Now eat and drink. Hurry up, I haven’t got all day.”

Tim ran his hand around each of his wrists, trying to rub some life back into them as they were too numb to hold anything. The man impatiently tapped his foot. Tim didn’t recognise the voice, so he knew this wasn’t the main man.

“I’m sorry, my wrists hurt, and I need to get some kind of feeling back into them before I can contemplate eating.”

The man grunted and picked up the sandwich. He ripped it open and shoved one of the halves into Tim’s gaping mouth. Tim ended up choking.

“Jesus, first you want something to eat and then you don’t. I wish you’d make up your frigging mind.”

Tim tried to mumble an apology, but even he was unable to decipher his words.

The man’s patience had run out. He picked the rope up again and tussled with Tim’s arms to secure them once more.

“Please, I’m hungry. Give me a chance to eat and drink, I’m begging you. I’ll be no good to you dead, will I?”

“That’s debatable. You’ve got five minutes, starting now. Either feed yourself or the rope goes back on and you starve. I’m not here to pander to you. Got that?”

“Yes, yes, I understand perfectly. I’m sorry to be such an inconvenience to you, that wasn’t my intention at all.”

The man got closer and through gritted teeth shouted, “Shut the fuck up. I’m sick to death of listening to your whining.”

“I’m sorry,” Tim mumbled again. He took the sandwich from the packet and nibbled on it, detesting the texture of the egg mayonnaise, his least favourite filling, and furthermore, it was on white bread, which he also loathed.

The man left his side and crossed the room to the window but still kept half an eye on Tim, not that he was going anywhere with his legs bound.

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