‘What are you going to do to me?’

His grin grows. ‘I’m going to free you of your guilt.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Go to your car, Margot, time is running out.’

‘But what if my battery—’

‘There’s a charger in your car. Go now. Time is of the essence.’

‘You can’t go, Margot,’ Gabe says.

‘I can hear you, Gabe,’ Cormac yells. ‘Listen to this.’

A gun shot. I scream. Gabe reaches for the phone but I snatch it away.

‘That’s a warning. This thing is loaded. If any of you call the police, I’ll kill her. Now go, Margot.’

I realise Evan is at the door, watching us, tears running down his cheeks.

‘You heard what he said,’ I say to Gabe.

‘That’s right, Gabe, you heard what I said,’ Cormac smirks.

I have no choice. I can’t let him win. I can’t let him hurt my daughter. As I walk towards the door, I see Evan is holding something out to me at hip height. I take it. It’s his phone. I don’t say another word to them as I march outside, slipping Evan’s phone in my pocket.

‘Come on, chop chop,’ Cormac says.

‘Where am I going?’ I say.

‘Not so far. Just follow my directions.’

Chapter Twenty-Nine

TWENTY-NINE

‘SHARE YOUR LOCATION with me,’ he says, when I’m in the car. I do. ‘No wrong turns, no doing anything other than exactly what I say.’

‘Where do you want me to go?’

‘Head towards the motorway.’

‘Will you let her go, after?’ After what? I can’t dwell on this thought for long, I can’t let fear get the better of me.

‘That depends.’

‘On what, Nathan?’

‘Don’t call me that.’ It’s a hiss, a warning. ‘My name is Cormac.’ He hates his name. It represents something – his family? His mother? His past? Cormac represents his fantasy of coming from poverty, an origin story worthy of him. It wasn’t just for my benefit. He was living the delusion to escape the reality. Multiple personalities perhaps? Trauma does strange things to the human brain. There are few things as traumatic as losing both parents suddenly and independently.

‘I know about your mother’s family.’

He sniffs.

‘I know that you have all the money in the world but no real family to speak of.’

‘Not true,’ he says. ‘You don’t know about my family. I have a girlfriend, too.’ I note the language he uses. Girlfriend. Not captive, but girlfriend.

I try to drive calmly, indicating at a set of lights, navigating my way through the streets. I steady my breath, and think for a moment. I decide to take a risk. As I round a bend, I let my hand slip off the wheel and knock the phone from the cradle. It hits the floor of the car, landing face down.