Fourteen Days(63)

Christina turned to leave the bedroom.

Peter was standing right behind her.

“Jesus Christ!” she shouted in fright. “You scared me.”

“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Am I in the wrong room?” she asked, a clear tone of fear in her voice. “She’s not in the bed.”

Peter took a moment to answer.

“Sophie’s not here,” he coldly said.

“Then where is she?”

A tear rolled down Peter’s cheek. He sniffed loudly, and then softly replied, “She dead.”

Richard could see the whole of Christina’s body shudder, causing her to back away into the side of the bed. “What do you mean? You sent me up here to talk to her.”

Peter moved closer to her, forcing her to sit on the edge of the bed. “She hung herself.”

Christina’s eyes widened with shock. “I’m so sorry,” she said, trying to move over to his side. “I had no idea. No one…”

“It’s your fault!” he snapped, mirroring her every movement. “You killed them both.”

“What do you mean? How could it have been my fault?”

“It was your job to keep him safe. Your job to help Sophie. And you failed.”

She managed to climb off the bed, then tried to slip past him out the door, but he cut off every possible route. Richard tried to move between them but couldn’t. He found himself watching from the far corner of the room, powerless to do anything, as Christina backed away from Peter into the wall. Leave her alone! Richard screamed. But no one took notice.

“We did everything we could,” Christina said, tears running down her face. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

Peter shook his head; his face filled with wrath, yet still focused. “We trusted you. You said that everything would be fine.”

“I’m sorry. Sometimes things happen, things go wrong. You can’t always stop it from happening.”

“You’re a liar! You cut corners. You could have stopped this. And now I’ve lost my son and Sophie.”

“Please, I’m sorry for your baby, but I swear to God there was nothing anyone could have done to save him. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“And what about Sophie?” he asked, his fists clenched tightly. “What about her? Was her death just ‘meant to be’?”

She shook her head, now weeping uncontrollably. “No, of course not,” she struggled to say. “I had nothing to do with it. Please, just let me leave. I just want to go home. Please, Peter.”

He slowly shook his head. “I can’t let you leave.”

“Why?” she sobbed, spit flying out as she spoke.

Moving closer, he raised his fist up. “I just can’t.”

Richard watched in horror as Peter drove his knuckles hard into her jaw.

Christina’s legs buckled and her eyes rolled back.

Leave her alone! Richard screamed again as she crashed onto both knees.

Richard fought to move forward to protect her, but couldn’t. Get away from her!

He closed his eyes in defeat as Peter slammed his leather shoe into the side of Christina’s face.



The sound of the door opening caused Richard’s eyelids to slowly open; he braced himself to see the state of Christina on the floor.

She wasn’t there.

The sound of groaning took his attention over to the bed. Richard’s stomach churned at the sight of Christina sprawled out on the bare mattress. A white cloth had been wrapped around her head and stuffed into her mouth as a gag, and her wrists and ankles were bound with rope to the bedposts. Bastard! he said. Fucking bastard!

Richard trembled when he saw Peter standing calmly in the doorway.

“I’m sorry I had to hurt you,” Peter said, as he walked over to the bedside. “I just got so angry. I didn’t mean to hit you. I’ve never hit a woman in my life.”

Christina struggled with her bounds, while the flesh around her ankles and wrists reddened. Cries of anger or for help distorted by her gag filled Richard’s heart with sorrow and frustration.

“Look, you need to calm down if you want me to pull out the gag,” Peter said, as if speaking to a child. Christina stared at him, her eyes streaming with tears. “Well? Are you going to calm down? Or do I have to leave it in?”

Christina stopped moving and began breathing noisily through her nostrils.