Every Little Breath: A Tense Psychological Thriller Full of Twists

It’s not you, it’s me.

I just need some space.

We’re on different paths right now.

We can still be friends.

Urgh!

Casey Fallon gripped the steering wheel of her cherry-red Beetle, eased a little off the accelerator, aware she was just a mile away from Strumpshaw and still didn’t have her break-up speech right. She had practised this for days, knew she couldn’t be a coward and end things with Gareth over the phone. He deserved better than that.

Her reasons sounded so clichéd, though, and she just knew he was going to think she had met someone else at university.

She hadn’t. Okay, maybe she had looked. But truth was she had changed.

Her first year at Derby had been filled with new friendships and experiences that made her realise she was too young to settle down. She was only nineteen for chrissakes and she wanted to be free to explore, to experiment and to have fun, and yes, to meet new people, and her relationship with Gareth had become strained as he didn’t want her to change. Couldn’t understand why she couldn’t just be happy with her life back in Norfolk.

Over this last term her confidence had soared and he hadn’t liked that one bit.

He was older than her and had always been a little bit controlling, had freaked when she had told him she was going to university, and even though they were hundreds of miles apart, she still felt like he was smothering her. His texts and phone calls, demanding to know where she was and who she was with, were relentless, and they were starting to get on her nerves.

Casey needed to put an end to it before she started to resent him.

She really didn’t want to resent Gareth. He had been all of her firsts. Her first boyfriend, her first kiss, her first lover, and her first love. If she finished things now, she hoped they might be able to remain friends.

And this break-up wasn’t just for her. It was for Gareth too. She no longer loved him and he deserved to be free to find someone new.

That all sounded great in her head, so why was she finding it so hard to put it into words?

As she passed the village sign, she knew the long driveway to the house would appear around the next bend, and her stomach knotted with nerves.

This was an impromptu visit and Gareth didn’t know she was coming.

She had arrived home late yesterday, so planned to surprise him, keen to get this over with so she could actually enjoy the rest of her summer break. Truth was, she was scared of how he was going to react to the news. He had flipped over Derby. How was he going to take being dumped?

Ignoring the urge to turn the car round, she indicated, pulling off the road into the driveway. She was here now and she wasn’t a coward. Her nerves would not get the better of her.

The house was set back off from the road in a couple of acres of land. Gareth’s dad, Steve, had often mentioned that he liked the seclusion, being away from any prying neighbours.

Casey wondered if Steve and Julie would be home. She had chosen to break up with Gareth at his house in the hope they would be there, because she knew he wouldn’t be able to lose his temper too badly in front of his parents. She would also be able to leave when she wanted to. What she hadn’t thought about was how awkward it might actually be.

In the four years they had been dating, she had got to know his parents well, liked them both and knew they approved of her. Steve Noakes was the perfect dad, laid-back and friendly, always up for a chat and a laugh, while Julie, although quieter, went out of her way to make Casey feel welcome. How were they going to react when she broke up with their son?

It was a hot July day and her bare legs were sticking uncomfortably to the leather seat. She knew it wasn’t just from the heat. As the house came into view she spotted that the driveway was empty, both relief and anxiety twisting in her gut.

Was Gareth out? She had presumed he would be home and it hadn’t occurred to her that she might have to wait.

If he wasn’t there, she would just make her excuses and go.

Coward.

Getting out of the car, she slipped her keys in her bag, ran anxious fingers through her hair, and took a step towards the house.

The place was huge, mostly because Steve, a builder, continued to extend it. Once two separate cottages that had been knocked together, he had added to it over the years; a games room, a bigger kitchen, a conservatory, and it was probably worth a fortune now.

Casey rang the front doorbell, pushed her sunglasses up onto her head and smoothed the creases out of her denim miniskirt. The smile she had painted on her face faded to a frown when there was no answer.

Maybe the whole family were out.

She took a step back, noted the open bedroom window. Surely they hadn’t gone out and left it like that. She tried the bell again, waited a little longer before giving up.

As she was toying with leaving and driving back home, wondering how cowardly it would be to break up with Gareth by text, she remembered the neighbouring house that Steve had bought, his intention to fix it up and sell it for a profit. Casey had seen it when it had first been purchased, remembered it had been in a state of disrepair and Julie had been worried it was going to be a money pit. It was a father-and-son project, with Gareth helping his dad do the place up, the idea for Gareth to make enough money to get a sizeable deposit for his own place, house, and he had mentioned in recent messages that he had been doing some work there at weekends. Perhaps he was there.

The house was only a little further along the road. She should go check and see.

Climbing back in her car, Casey pulled out of the driveway, heading further out into the country. Even though the road was empty, she indicated, turning left on to the dirt track that she knew led to the property.

Steve’s van was parked outside, though there was no sign of Gareth’s car. Still, they had probably come over together. She pulled up outside the front door, keen to see what work they had been doing.

Steve had bought the place at auction after the former owner had died and it had been in a sorry state at the time with cracked windows, missing bricks and weeds growing out of the gutters. Already the outside was looking better and a skip stood on part of the driveway, filled to the brim with rubble. She wondered what they had done to the inside.

She got out of the car and knocked on the front door, curiosity getting the better of her when there was no answer, trying the door handle and assuming her guess that they were here was correct when the door eased open.

‘Gareth? Steve? Are you in here?’

She thought she heard a shuffle, stepped inside, her attention immediately drawn to the staircase that had been stripped of paint and lovingly restored to natural wood.

‘Gareth? Where are you?’

She wandered through the house, looking at the work they had done. The wall that had separated the kitchen had been knocked down and there was now an archway to the living area. It needed plastering and there was a lot of mess everywhere, but Casey could see the potential.

She looked out of the wide window across the back lawn, spotting the outbuilding that had come with the property. Was it possible that they were in there? She remembered them talking about the outbuilding when Steve had first bought the place and he had yet to decide what to do with it. Maybe he had made up his mind. The door to the building was ajar, which suggested someone was inside.

Deciding to go and investigate, she let herself out of the house and followed the stone path round to the back garden, crossing the lawn to the outbuilding and peering through the door. It was dark and musty inside, the room mostly filled with junk, and the air was ripe with a damp, unpleasant odour.

‘Gareth, are you in here? Steve?’

From her position by the door, she could see there was a separate back room, but she was reluctant to venture further inside, aware there could be spiders or, God forbid, rats.

Gareth and Steve obviously weren’t in here. Well, at least she had tried.

As she turned to leave, a noise came from further back in the building. It was faint, sounded like a groan, but someone was definitely there.

Had one of them had an accident? Did they need help?

‘Gareth? Steve?’

This time she didn’t hesitate, rushing into the outbuilding, half expecting to find Gareth’s dad on the floor having suffered either a heart attack or some kind of accident.

She spotted stairs leading down on the far wall. She hadn’t realised the outbuilding had a basement.

‘Gareth? Steve? Are you down there?’

Another groan, this time louder and definitely from below had her running for the stairs.

A dim bulb lit her way down the stone steps, the temperature dipping. The room she found herself in housed mostly tools. There was a large chest freezer and the stone walls were covered in saws, axes, and other implements. Beyond the freezer was a door and there was a faint glow coming from underneath it. This had to be where they were.

‘Gareth? Steve?’

The groan in reply was louder, more frantic. Distressed even.

Casey eased the door open, blinked rapidly as she took in the sight in front of her.

The large wooden table and the naked woman strapped down on top of it.

For the longest moment Casey was rooted to the spot, trying to fathom what the hell was going on. Where the fuck were Gareth and Steve? Did they know this woman was down here?

Had they done this?

The woman couldn’t see Casey, a black scarf tied over her eyes, but she had heard her, and the rise and fall of her chest, her frantic struggles as she twisted against the ropes holding her down, the bruising around her neck and breasts, and the crusted blood on her thighs and belly, made Casey jolt too.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

She was all fingers and thumbs as she managed to push up the blindfold, the woman’s eyes bulging at Casey, as she tried to beg for help. Casey attempted to peel the tape back from her mouth, realised it was tightly wrapped around her head and she was going to need a knife. As she glanced frantically around, another anguished groan had her looking back into tear-stained blue eyes. The woman (was she even that? Her face was dark with bruises, dirt and mascara, but underneath all that she looked only about Casey’s age) strained against the ropes like an imprisoned animal, desperate for escape.

‘I’m going to help you. I’m going to get you out of here.’

Casey’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, so dry.

The ropes were thick and tightly knotted. How the hell was she supposed to free the woman?

As she tried to figure out what the hell to do, whistling came from above, and everything froze.

She recognised that whistle, knew it was Steve. And he was going to find her.

This wasn’t a joke, this wasn’t a situation Casey was going to be able to talk her way out of. He had a fucking woman tied to a fucking table in the basement of the outbuilding. When he realised what Casey had seen, he wasn’t going to let her walk out of here.

The woman was already twisting her head, fresh tears filling her eyes.

‘I’m so sorry. I have to go, but I’ll come back.’ She felt awful as she pulled the blindfold back into place, but Steve couldn’t know she had been here. She tried to reassure the woman who was going frantic. ‘I’m going to get help. I promise.’

Guilt, anger, terror; all the emotions quashed in Casey’s gut as she backed out of the room, glancing around in panic. Steve was going to see her.

She looked at the freezer, could hear him still moving around above her.

There was no other choice. No other place to hide.

She was relieved to find it empty and quickly climbed inside, lowering the lid, her fingertips wedged in the gap, knowing she couldn’t let it close completely.

She waited and she listened, to the jovial whistling and to the anguished sobbing coming from the woman she had left tied to the table, as she tried to ignore the biting temperature. It had all happened so fast and she was still struggling to process it all. By the time footsteps sounded on the stairs, she was shaking uncontrollably both with cold and with fear, and she was terrified Steve would hear, that he would see the freezer lid ajar.

What if he realised? What if he trapped her inside?

She saw him as he reached the bottom of the steps, watched him disappear inside the room, then heard a muffled scream of terror. Inside the freezer, Casey squeezed her eyes shut, choked down on her own scream, knew she had to make her escape.

Carefully, she eased the lid open, heart racing, expecting Steve to step back into the room and catch her.

She was wracked with guilt at the thought of leaving the woman, but knew that she had no choice. If she didn’t escape and raise the alarm, the woman would die.

They both would die.

Out of the freezer, tiptoeing towards the stairs, one eye on the door, terrified Steve would see her. He had his back to her and she caught the glint of a knife.

She wanted to be sick. Instead she ran.

Up the stairs, through to the front of the outbuilding, out of the door, round the side of the house. She fumbled with her keys, dropped them, snatching them back up, climbing in her Beetle and starting the car, certain that she heard Steve’s voice as she gunned the engine, flying down the driveway at breakneck speed. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, she saw the reflection was empty. He wasn’t behind her. It had been her imagination.

A bump brought her attention back to the road, but it was too late and the car was going too fast. She had already strayed off the driveway, had less than a second’s warning before the Beetle smashed into a tree. Casey was flung hard against her seat belt, her head jolting forward.

Metal groaned and the engine fizzed. Angry tears fell as she drew a breath, released her seat belt with shaking hands.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

She should have been paying attention.

There was no time. She had to go, she had to get out of here before he caught her.

Grabbing her bag she left the car, bolting to the end of the driveway and stumbling into the road. She had to get help, had to call the police. The woman’s life depended on it.

She crossed into the safety of the field, ducked down against the hedge and retrieved her phone from her bag, struggled to dial 999 as her hands were shaking so much.

‘Emergency. Which service?’

‘Police.’

Her voice sounded alien to her and she was still shaking all over.

Her call was connected and she heard the calm voice of the police handler, her own voice breaking as she answered.

‘There’s a girl. You have to help her before he kills her.’