Every Little Breath: A Tense Psychological Thriller Full of Twists

Casey had no idea how long she had been in the underground bunker. It had probably only been around half an hour, though it felt like much longer as she listened to the man she knew as Ricky Clarke gloat about how he had managed to fool her for all these years, while taking delight in telling her about the sick and twisted ways he sought pleasure, all the while waving his knife about like it was a baton and he was directing an orchestra.

Her fear had escalated when he had unlocked his display cabinet, made a show of selecting which tool he wanted, and she had squeezed her eyes shut, fearing the first cut, fresh sweat beading on her skin, as he had approached her. It didn’t come, though, and when she dared open them he was sat on his office chair sharpening the blade, a smirk on his face as he watched her.

She suspected it was all part of the game, that he just wanted to frighten her into thinking he was going to cut her. It was working, though, because she didn’t dare let her guard down, knowing that he would hurt her sooner or later.

It was difficult to comprehend that the man she had considered to be one of her closest friends was a monster just like Steve Noakes. Ricky had told her all about learning the truth about Steve being his father and then in detail about his hunting trips, and he kept referring to the man as his mentor, and she had thought back to when she was dating Gareth, could recall the two cousins who were always staying over. Of course, she remembered Kelvin more clearly, as he had been closer in age. She had never taken much notice of his younger brother, Rod, who tended to keep out of her way, usually with his nose buried in a book or playing computer games.

What she did remember of him certainly didn’t equate to the man standing before her. Gone were the thick glasses and unfashionable haircut. Ricky wore his shorter and lighter. She was fairly certain his contacts were a different colour too, and he had lost weight, toned up. He looked nothing like the boy she pictured in her head, though now she knew his true identity, she was picking up on familiar little mannerisms, could see a similarity in that sly smile.

‘Did you like my little plan to get you here?’ he asked now, seeming pleased with himself. ‘I put a lot of effort into pulling that off.’

It was a rhetorical question. She couldn’t answer him even if she wanted to, the tape covering her mouth was preventing her doing anything more than mumbling. Instead, she glared at him, wanting him to know how much she despised him, terror clogging her throat when he got up from the chair and moved towards her.

She didn’t want to react, didn’t want to show him fear, but his move was sudden and he was still holding that big fucking knife. She let out a muffled squeak, tried to move away, though it was impossible, her aching wrists cuffed together and attached to a hook in the ceiling, her toes barely touching the ground.

Ricky raised the knife, grazing the blunt edge against her cheek, and Casey almost lost control of her bladder. She was trembling so badly that the chains holding her up were rattling against each other.

‘It would have been too easy to take you. I wanted to make you come to me. I didn’t know for sure if you would go for it, in which case I would have had to go to my backup plan, but no, you played right into my hands. Finn should be impressed; you’re more devoted to him than you let on. Sacrificing yourself to save his family was very noble, Casey, even if it was unnecessary.’

What? Had he hurt them?

‘I was never there,’ he elaborated, as if reading her mind. ‘They were never in any danger. I was here the whole time waiting for you. And I played you beautifully.’ He leaned in and Casey flinched, thinking he was going to kiss her. Instead, he took an exaggerated sniff, then slowly licked his tongue down her cheek.

‘I love the taste of your fear,’ he told her, and she felt a tear escape, rolling down her cheek, relieved that Finn’s family were safe, but furious for letting herself be tricked this way. How could she have been so stupid?

Was Finn back yet? Had he seen her message on the mirror? She had promised him she would stay in her apartment. Instead she had foolishly allowed herself to be lured out.

Ricky flipped the knife so the blade was slicing into her cheek. The sharp pain had her tugging on her wrists, her scream caught against the tape, and the tears fell harder.

She wanted to hurt Ricky, wanted to make him suffer, but how could she when he had her chained up like this? It wasn’t a fair fight. He had hurt so many women and she wanted him to pay, but not in a jail cell, that would be too easy for him.

She glanced over at Amanda, could see the rise and fall of her chest. There had been a point where Casey had thought she was dead, and deep down she did wonder if that would perhaps be kinder. If they somehow found their way out of this hellhole, how would Amanda survive this?

Without warning, Ricky grabbed hold of a handful of Casey’s hair, giving it a hard yank, pulling her head back and holding his blade against her exposed throat.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

Casey stared up at the ceiling, silently begging for it to be over quickly.

‘I could end your life right now, slice you open ear to ear,’ he whispered, his breath warm against her hair. ‘But that would be too easy.’

He let go of her and she watched him walk away, setting the knife down on the desktop, her legs shaking so badly, she struggled to balance on her toes, the cuffs cutting into her wrists as they bore the full brunt of her weight.

She started to cry again, both with fear and anger. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of her tears, but she was so damn frightened, her hatred towards him escalating.

‘We have bigger plans for you. And I guess we should get going if we’re going to put them into action.’

Casey watched as he retrieved a duffel bag from under the desk, going to his cabinet and filling it with various tools. Her heart thumped in her chest. What was he going to do to her? He zipped the bag, threw it down on the desk before taking out a gun, stuffing it in his back pocket. Her eyes widened, not sure if she should be more scared of that or the knives.

He took a pair of cuffs from the wall, went to where Amanda was lying and unlocked her restraints. She never attempted to move or flee, remaining compliant when he rolled her on her front and pulled her wrists behind her, cuffing them together.

Scooping her up over his shoulder, the move so easy to him it only served to remind Casey how physically strong he was, he headed towards the stairs, winking at Casey as he passed her. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

Where the fuck was he taking Amanda?

Alone in the bunker room, she pulled frantically on the cuffs, trying to free herself. The chains didn’t budge, though, and all she did was hurt her wrists. She was still struggling when Ricky came back into the room. He grabbed the duffle bag, slinging it over his shoulder in much the same way he had done with Amanda, before going to Casey, reaching for the chain that was hooked between her cuffs and unlocking it.

Without that support, Casey’s legs buckled and she tumbled to the floor.

‘Get up!’ When she struggled to get to her feet, couldn’t feel her arms from where they had been pulled above her head, her wrists still cuffed together, he kicked her hard in the ribs and she grunted against the tape. ‘I said, get the fuck up,’ Ricky repeated.

She rolled on to her front, managed to get her elbows on the ground, and tried to push herself into a kneeling position, but her arms were still numb and too weak to support her. Huffing out a sigh and swearing at her under his breath, Ricky grabbed hold of her arm, dragging her up, almost yanking her off her feet.

He shoved her face first onto the worktable and for an awful moment Casey thought she was about to take Amanda’s place. She struggled against him as he pinned her against the table, but he was too strong, and frustration burned as he unlocked one cuff, forcing her arms behind her and relocking them, aware she had just lost a vital chance to break free.

He pulled her up again, pushed her towards the stairs. ‘Walk!’

Her legs were rubbery, but she didn’t need to be asked twice, desperate to get out of this awful torture room. Still, on shaking legs, her wrists cuffed behind her, messed with her balance and she struggled with the steps, slipping a couple of times. Finally out of the hatch, the warm night air on her skin, she glanced frantically around, knew she had to somehow get away.

As if pre-empting her, Ricky hooked his foot around hers, and she fell forward, hitting the ground hard, unable to use her hands to break the fall.

He laughed at her as she tried to roll over, pulling her back onto her feet and Casey winced as pain shot through her ankle. ‘Clumsy bitch. Come on, up you get. We’re going for a little late-night stroll.’ He glanced at Amanda, who hadn’t moved. Casey could see she was awake and conscious, but she seemed to have switched off. ‘You too, sweetheart. Get on your feet.’

When Amanda ignored him, Ricky kicked her in the side with the toe of his boot. Still she didn’t react. Annoyed, he let go of Casey and leant down to check on her.

Seizing the opportunity while he was distracted, Casey slowly backed away towards the house, trying to ignore the blistering pain in her ankle. She kept her eye on him, trying to decide the point when she would run.

‘Casey?’

The familiar voice had both her and Ricky turning.

Finn.

Spotting him by the side of the house, Casey stumbled towards him.

‘You fucking bitch!’ She was aware of Ricky chasing after her and her heart pounded as she tried to move faster.

Then Finn was running towards her and there was a sweet moment of relief when she fell sobbing against him, his arms folding around her. It was short-lived, though, as she heard the unmistakable click.