Time To Play KA Richardson (best thriller books to read .txt) 📖

He nodded at the girl sat at the table in the hall, and she barely acknowledged him. He’d been there more times than enough now. There was no need for her to respond.

His shoes clattered on the bare staircase as he made his way up to the attic. The room always made him cringe. Horrid things happened to the girls in there. He knew Rocko hooked them on heroin there, he also knew Rocko and the other men did things to the girls that he would never consider doing.

But he couldn’t help them all.

He picked only the ones that looked like they had fight, the ones that hadn’t been there all that long. Rocko nodded at him as he entered.

‘First floor, first door on the left of the staircase. You’ll find her suitable I think.’

As Rocko held out his hand for payment, he pressed the money in with a soft smile. ‘Thanks, Rocko.’

The rule was never to use real names in the house, and it was a rule that he obeyed easily. Rocko and the person he knew Rocko as outside of the house were very different people. He had never confused the two, and he never would.

He closed the door and made his way back down to the first floor. The door was a little stiff, but he pushed harder, and it opened, letting out a creak that was worthy of any haunted house.

Stepping inside, he turned his nose up again. There were two girls inside, one on the left-hand-side bunk who was conscious and obviously looking for her next fix, and another who was quite possibly dead. Her head had lolled backwards, and he could see vomit in her mouth. Her chest was still.

Ignoring the dead one, he walked over to the bed and sat down.

‘I’m here to save you. Come with me and I’ll teach you how to deal with all this pain and misery. It’s what I do.’

He held his hand out to the girl, taking hers in his, and stood, pulling her to her feet. She didn’t fight. She followed as he led her down the stairs and out of the door to his car. He knew she understood what he said, for all her olive skin and dark hair pointed to her being foreign. They all understood that leaving the hellhole he took them from would be preferable to staying. She was number seven, and not one had ever refused to go with him.

Outskirts of Hetton-le-Hole – 4 November

Elvie had been sitting by the door all day. She had dozed off at one point and woken with a jump thinking someone was in the room with her, but it had been a dream. Her whole body ached now. Breathing was like having someone stick a shard of glass deep into her side, and her face throbbed with every minute movement.

She stretched slightly and pulled herself to her knees, intending to stand.

Suddenly she heard it. Footsteps coming up the carpeted stairs to the room she was being held in. Moving quicker now, she stood, wincing as her body protested. She grabbed the lamp and raised it high above her head. Whoever came through that door was going to get it.

The door opened quietly, and she saw trouser legs in the light from the landing.

A man then, no doubt the nasty one.

She tensed as she waited for him to come further into the room. And the second she saw his face she swung the lamp with all her might. It shattered as it connected with the man’s face and he collapsed with a loud ‘oomph’.

Elvie didn’t stop to see who it was. She snuck past him and crept down the stairs. She was petite anyway, and her feet made no sound on the carpeted steps. As she rounded the corner and found herself at another staircase, she paused, listening.

It was faint, but she could hear the sound of people talking, a television maybe.

Silently, she crept further down until she found herself in the hallway.

The front door loomed in front of her.

Elvie went to step forward, but a hand suddenly appeared round her mouth, and she was pulled backwards. She struggled, trying to kick at whoever held her steady. The pressure on her mouth was hard and she could barely even express a whimper.

‘Shhh,’ whispered a male voice. ‘It’s Danny. Don’t scream.’

He turned her around so she could see his face, and she had to stop herself gasping when she realised he had blood running down the left side of his face.

‘I’m fine,’ he said, seeing her expression. ‘Come with me, I’ll get you out.’

Elvie nodded silently. He had helped her before; there was no reason for her not to trust him. He led her through the kitchen at the rear of the house, and out of the back door to a large concrete section where several vehicles were parked, including the van she’d been brought to the house in.

‘You see that red car over there? You need to go and hide on the back seat, there’s a blanket you can cover yourself with. If you don’t hide, they’ll catch you. You’re miles away from anywhere. Do you understand?’

Elvie grasped most of what he said, though some words escaped her. She nodded, fear tightening in her chest. When he pushed her towards the car, she didn’t hesitate. She climbed in and peeked through the window as he made his way back inside.

Maybe he’s going to tell them where I am? Maybe he’s gone to get the woman and she’s going to beat me again.

She heard shouts from inside the house and ducked down as the back door was flung open. Crouching low in the footwells, she pulled the blanket over her and lay still, her heart pounding in her chest as shouting