He woke up with a painful crick in his neck from where he had fallen asleep on the sofa. The bottle of whiskey that he had been drinking to celebrate his success of the night before had fallen from his hand while he slept and rolled across the carpet, its contents spilling out and soaking into the threadbare surface underfoot. The smell of the pungent liquid was strong in the air, and he breathed it in deep with a smile on his face. For it was a smell that always reminded him of her. The very first night they met, all that time ago, had been at a house party thrown by a mutual friend. Neither of them had been in the mood to socialise much that evening—and so before long they had found themselves tucked away together in one of the quieter corners, passing a bottle of whiskey back and forth between them and swigging it down neat as they talked, both growing increasingly intoxicated. Neil hadn’t been able to believe his luck. She was beautiful. Stunning. With dark red hair, sapphire blue eyes, and ivory skin. And when she had asked for his number later that night and then called him the very next day to invite him to go out for a coffee with her, he had been certain that he was the luckiest man on the entire planet.
From that point on, he and Clare had quickly become inseparable. He had asked her to move in with him after just a month, and she had happily done so. Everything had been absolutely perfect at first. A fairy tale.
But then the arguments had started to creep in. She often cried, accusing him of being controlling, jealous. She had thrown a mug at him on one occasion, hitting him on the side of the head. Her angry words and ugly accusations tore into him like barbed wire – and yet through it all he loved her more than life itself. He always forgave her. It was not really her fault, after all. He had a sneaking suspicion that she was unwell mentally. Depressed, perhaps. Maybe even manic-depressive. He had heard about those people. And when she was not shouting or weeping, she was silent and withdrawn.
He didn’t mind any of it, really. As long as they were together, that was the only thing that mattered.
And then had come the day when he popped out to the shop for some milk and arrived home to find that she had packed her bags and fled. She had smashed one of the windows to get out. He always kept the doors and windows locked for her safety. That day, his heart had felt exactly like the jagged glass in the window. Shattered and broken.
It had taken him a long time to find her after that. But he loved her, adored her with every fibre of his being. And he knew that he would never give up, no matter how long it took. Then finally last night, he had managed to track her down.
She’d been waiting for him to come for her. He had been able to see it in her eyes the instant that her gaze fixed upon him.
His smile grew broader now as he relived this sweet moment. He got to his feet, casting a look at the bedroom door. It was completely silent beyond, so he thought that she must still be sleeping. Perfect. That would give him time to prepare her some breakfast in bed to celebrate their reunion. He would make her favourite – pancakes with poached eggs and a pot of fresh tea.
He hurried into the kitchen and hummed happily to himself as he set about his task. Now that she was his again and they were finally back together, that horrible weight in his chest had disappeared, and his heart felt lighter than ever.
***
He carried the laden tray carefully along towards the bedroom and opened the door with his elbow. He moved around the bed and placed the tray down upon the bedside table. He saw that she was awake now. She whimpered as he reached out a hand towards her.
‘I’ve brought you breakfast, look,’ he said. ‘Now, I’ll remove your gag if you promise to be a good girl and not try to scream. You know that when you do that it upsets me. So will you promise me that you won’t?’
She nodded jerkily in response.
‘Good.’
He fished out the wad of material that he had wedged into her mouth.
‘Please,’she croaked. ‘Just let me go, Neil. I won’t tell anyone. Just let me go.’ Her wrists and ankles strained uselessly against their bounds fixed securely to each one of the four bedposts.
Neil felt his face fall into a frown. ‘Go?’ he asked. ‘Why on earth would you ever want to go anywhere? This is where you belong. Right here with me. And this time, I’m going to make absolutely sure that we’re never apart again. Don’t you worry about that, my love.’
She began to cry then. But they were tears of happiness, he was sure.
About the Author:
Samantha has been writing horror fiction for over a decade, ever since completing a writing course in 2012. Since that time, she has completed three novels, the most recent of which is currently being looked at by agents. She also regularly writes short stories and poetry for magazines, and has had work published in both England and America. Her website can be found at https://samanthabrookehorrorstories.wordpress.com/ When not writing herself, she is also a short story competition judge on Reedsy.
