Back The Family Next Door Save as PDF
Chapters (117)
  1. Also by
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Epigraph
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
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  70. 65
  71. 66
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  73. 68
  74. 69
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  77. 72
  78. 73
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  80. 75
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  87. 82
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  92. 87
  93. 88
  94. 89
  95. 90
  96. 91
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  100. 95
  101. 96
  102. 97
  103. 98
  104. 99
  105. 100
  106. 101
  107. 102
  108. 103
  109. 104
  110. 105
  111. 106
  112. 107
  113. 108
  114. 109
  115. 110
  116. Teaser chapter
  117. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

On autopilot, she eased the document back into its plastic wallet, sealed the box and placed it back where she had found it.

As she stepped out of the shadows of the garage and into the blinding light of a summer afternoon, only two questions were on her mind.

Why had Fletcher—she could not think of him in any other way—gone to the trouble of changing his name?

And who the hell was Benjamin Turner?

57

57

Tuesday 31st July 2018, 1:24 P.M.

32 The Avenue

If she lifted her head, Aster would be looking down the twin barrels of a shotgun. As it was, she stared at the cracked soil of his undernourished garden and prayed that whatever he was planning would be over soon.

Mummy.

A longing so intense filled her up. She hadn’t called Olivia that for years and years. But all the anger, all the hurt was stripped away in a moment, and she wanted the warmth of her mother’s arms, her calm, reassuring voice.

The boys—although a shotgun pointing at them on that empty summer’s day did more to turn them into men than years of furtive cider drinking and stolen cigarettes—were mostly silent.

Charlie, at least she assumed it was him, muttered something like, “You’ll pay for this, you prick,” but he was shushed by Bailey, and the four of them stood next to each other, suspects in a police lineup.

Old Man Lovell shoved the muzzle into Charlie’s chest. The front of the boy’s pale green shorts darkened. Aster felt laughter stir inside her like an air bubble, but it wasn’t because of Charlie’s lack of control, but the sheer awfulness of the predicament they were in.

“If you ever come onto my property again, you will regret it.” He pushed the muzzle deeper into Charlie’s chest, making him stumble backward. He’ll have a bruise there tomorrow. Again, a bubble of laughter threatened to burst from her and she clamped shut her lips.

“Get rid of it.” He jerked the gun toward the pig’s head.

The boys exchanged glances and Bailey stepped forward. He tugged at one of the ears, but Charlie had impaled it with such force that it would not budge. He shot a panicked look at his friends.

Marco moved hesitantly toward it, grabbed the pig’s other ear and yanked. The combined strength of both boys freed it from the stake and they staggered backward. Flecks of raw meat and pale, bloated fat flew through the air and landed on Aster’s bare arm.

She screamed.

Lovell turned his attention to her.

“You’re one of the new family.” It was a statement, not a question. He already knew.

She nodded, not trusting her voice to remain steady, her eyes drawn to the stiffening splashes of red on the front of his shirt.