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

He couldn’t get it out of his mind, though. The fact that something could have stopped this. If he had stayed at his desk all night until he’d found a secret – a key to finding her at the top of that building, waiting to be saved.

Mark tried to put that away – putting it in the little box in his mind he’d been told to construct when he first joined the police. In there, you place all the cases, the people, the victims, the perpetrators… all the faces you try so hard to forget. You place them in the box and forget it exists.

He’d never been able to close the damn thing.

Eleven

Him

This was the part he hated the most.

Hearing them downstairs, moving around as if only a few feet above their heads, their son’s life meant nothing.

Acting like all he needed was a job or a college course, rather than being left alone. Sitting him down at the dining-room table periodically to ask him what he was doing with his life. What he wanted to do with his life, as if they had all the answers.

Concerned eyes and the ability to make you feel both loved and like a disappointment at the same time.

Affecting interest. Strong hands, tapping against the table, as he explained what needed to happen.

Worried about him, wondering if there was anything they could do to help.

He could feel their eyes on him still, even now when he was alone. The look of desperation, as they attempted to work him out. To understand him. His wants, his needs, his desires.

There was nothing they could do now. It was too late. They had missed the opportunity to make a difference. Lost in a haze which they had believed was a normal, everyday, family life. He’d felt ignored because they’d never listened. They’d let him drift away without ever realising he’d become unmoored. They’d been involved in his life every single minute, but never in an attempt to know him.

He felt hatred for them all.

He lifted the lid on his laptop and clicked in the address bar. He had the website memorised now, but it had taken a long time to remember the string of digits which had been thought up a long time before. When the site had been set up, privacy had been key.

He needed to be in this group. They were the people he needed to speak to most. And it couldn’t be taken away from him.That’s how it seemed to him now.

His fingers trembled over the keys as he finished typing, a black screen appearing and shuddering as he moved his cursor across the monitor. In the upper right-hand of the screen, he clicked a few times to find the hidden link, then pressed down.