BooksBarbecue
Back The Game
Chapters (68)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. NOW
  4. One
  5. BEFORE
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. NOW
  26. Twenty-One
  27. BEFORE
  28. Twenty-Two
  29. Twenty-Three
  30. Twenty-Four
  31. Twenty-Five
  32. Twenty-Six
  33. Twenty-Seven
  34. Twenty-Eight
  35. Twenty-Nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-One
  38. Thirty-Two
  39. Thirty-three
  40. Thirty-Four
  41. Thirty-Five
  42. Thirty-Six
  43. Thirty-Seven
  44. Thirty-Eight
  45. NOW
  46. Thirty-Nine
  47. BEFORE
  48. Forty
  49. Forty-One
  50. Forty-Two
  51. Forty-three
  52. Forty-Four
  53. Forty-Five
  54. Forty-Six
  55. Forty-Seven
  56. Forty-Eight
  57. Forty-Nine
  58. Fifty
  59. Fifty-One
  60. NOW
  61. Fifty-Two
  62. Fifty-Three
  63. Fifty-Four
  64. Fifty-Five
  65. AFTER
  66. Fifty-Six
  67. Acknowledgements
  68. About the Author

Seconds later, she could feel the atmosphere shift; cold air swirled around her as she realised she was outside. Not for long. Not long enough. The sounds turning again.

She wanted to cry, but gritted her teeth against her tears. She had to be strong. She had to find a way out of whatever situation she was in.

Her mind was blank, as the movement beneath her changed.

This was it.

The end.

Whatever that might be.

Forty-Nine

Mark was diving on John before he had the chance to react. His hands gripping his jacket below his shoulders and lifting the lad to his feet, with a great effort that Mark wasn’t aware of. He came willingly, dragged into standing, a small whelp of surprise escaping from his mouth.

‘What are you talking about?’ Mark shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls around them. ‘What have you done to her?’

‘I thought you knew,’ John replied, a whimper in reaction to Mark. ‘I thought…’

‘Where is she?’ Mark moved the boy across the room with ease, running on autopilot now. He shoved him against the bedroom door, something falling to the floor as he did so. He was barely aware of noise from the stairs beyond, almost all his attention on John and his sweating face. ‘Start talking now.’ He slammed him into the door again, to make his point.

‘I don’t know, I really don’t,’ John replied, blubbering over his words now. ‘Please, let me go, you’re hurting me.’

‘If you don’t tell me, I’ll really start hurting you, okay? What did you do?’

Outside the door, he heard a small voice. John’s mum, coming up to check what was going on. Mark didn’t care. He could only think of what was being said to him. Natasha.

‘They saw you with her over the past few days,’ John said, choking on every syllable. The faint aroma of urine drifted up from him. ‘They… they thought you were on to us. What we were doing. He had to be told.’

‘Who did?’ Mark replied, stepping back slightly in disgust. ‘Who is he? Tell me what you know. Tell me where he is.’

‘I… I…’

On the door behind them, there was a knock. Quiet at first, then becoming more insistent. Mark grabbed John harder, moving him back across the room, and sitting him down on the bed. ‘Get in contact with him now. Find out where he is. You’d best hope nothing has happened to her.’

Mark moved back towards the door, ran a hand through his hair, and then opened the door slightly ajar. He slipped out, without allowing John’s mum to see inside. She was standing on the landing, stepping back as Mark came out. Her hands were on her hips now, more front than when he’d arrived.