Every Little Breath: A Tense Psychological Thriller Full of Twists

Iwas the one who found your dad with that girl.

I can’t see you anymore with everything that is going on.

I really am sorry that things have to end this way.

These were the key points that stuck out as Gareth read and reread the message, trying to digest it.

It had crossed his mind that Casey could be the witness, the one who had called the police, but he hadn’t really believed it, hadn’t thought she was capable of betraying his family this way. And now, as well as getting his father arrested, she had dumped him. By text.

Emotions stirred, fighting for control. Anger, frustration and confusion.

How could she turn her back on him like this?

How could she do this to his family after they had welcomed her into it?

Anger took control and he wanted to hurt her, make her understand what she had done. He fired off a handful of furious texts in the heat of the moment, regretting them as the night wore on. By the time dawn was breaking, anger had worked itself into pity and regret.

He needed to see her. He needed to make her understand.

She couldn’t just dump him like this. Regardless of how badly she had hurt him, it had been misguided. She hadn’t meant it. She had no idea that this whole thing with his dad had come from a huge misunderstanding. She needed to realise that.

He was out and about early, trying his luck with a few more of her friends, hoping to find Casey staying with them, but she was nowhere to be found, and by lunchtime his mood had completely plummeted. He was about ready to give up when he remembered her Aunt Natasha had moved back to Norwich. Was it possible that Casey was staying with her? He knew they were close, so it made sense. So much sense that he was now kicking himself for not thinking about Natasha sooner.

He recalled that she lived on Stafford Street, having dropped Casey off there a couple of times, but didn’t have a clue which house Natasha lived in, still didn’t have a plan for how to find that out when he turned into the street, pulling up on the side of the kerb.

For the first time in three days, luck was on his side, though, as he spotted Casey walking towards him, a French bulldog striding ahead of her. She hadn’t seen him, seemed to be distracted by the dog and whatever she was listening to on her headphones.

Gareth drank in the sight of her, all long legs, her sleek dark hair worn in a blunt bob and falling like a curtain of raw silk as it grazed her jawline. As she neared the car, he opened the door and stepped out into her path, saw the look of panic on her face as she realised it was him. It made him angry and disappointed, hurt kicking him in the gut when she paled, taking a step back. The little dog yanked impatiently on the lead.

‘Gareth.’ She pulled the headphones from her ears.

He had caught her completely off guard, but that was good. This was better. Now at least she would have to listen to him.

‘We need to talk.’

‘That’s not a good idea.’ Casey glanced frantically around her, deciding the best escape route. Trapped between the car and the wall of the house, with Gareth blocking her path, she only had one option and that was back in the direction from which she had come.

‘You can’t just drop this on me, Casey. Now get in the car and we’ll go for a drive. Sort this out.’

She looked shocked at that suggestion, staring at him as if he was a monster. ‘I told you I can’t see you. I’m sorry, Gareth, I have to go.’

She yanked on the dog’s lead, looked frustrated when the stubborn little thing refused to move, instead planting its bum down on the pavement.

‘Hector!’

When the dog ignored her, she bent down and scooped him up.

‘You can’t do this to me. Now I’m asking politely. Please get in the car.’

She shook her head, backing away as Hector whimpered. When she was half a dozen paces away from Gareth, she turned, started to hurry back up the street.

A switch flipped in Gareth and driven by panic, aware she was slipping away from him, he charged after her, caught her hard by the arm, swinging her around.

Her eyes widened, both in shock and fear, warning him that he was scaring her and needed to let go. He didn’t, though, instead tightening his grip. The little dog eyeballed him, dark eyes mirroring Casey’s as he growled.

‘Let me go.’

He heard the tremor in Casey’s voice, ignored it. This was too important.

‘I need you to get in the car.’

When he tried to forcefully pull her, her shock gave way to panic, and she fought against him, trying to free herself. He was bigger, stronger, but she lashed out like a wild animal and in that moment, he realised he no longer recognised his girlfriend. Still, he held on and as she screamed and kicked out at him, Hector leapt out of her arms, his lead free, charging back up the street and Gareth was dragging her towards the car, managing to wrestle the passenger door open.

He had just pushed her inside the car when a bellow came from behind.

‘Get your bloody hands off her!’

Gareth glanced over his shoulder, saw the grey-haired man with the scowl on his face glaring at him from the open door of the house he was parked outside. The lazy bastard was still in his dressing gown.

‘Go away. This has nothing to do with you.’

‘It does when it’s happening outside my house, now let her go.’

Exhaustion, frustration and anger had Gareth’s temper close to snapping. He drew a breath, forced himself to calm. ‘Look, she’s my girlfriend, okay. We’re just having a discussion, so why don’t you mind your own business.’

His voice jerked on the last word as the heel of Casey’s trainer caught his shin.

‘Let me go!’

‘Son, if you don’t let that young lady out of your car, I’m going to call the police.’

The rage grew in Gareth’s head.

Why was everyone making this so difficult? All he wanted to do was talk to his girlfriend. Was that such a big ask?

‘Just fuck off, old man!’

He had only taken his eyes off Casey for a second and she took him by surprise when he turned back and her fist caught him in the mouth. It wasn’t a hard hit, but it was enough to make him loosen his grip, and he was unprepared when her foot kicked out again, this time catching him hard between the legs.

He yowled at the blistering pain, both hands covering his crotch as he staggered backwards and it was enough time for her to push past him, out of the car, hurtling back up the street towards, he assumed, her Aunt Natasha’s house.

He had to stop her.

Pushing aside the pain, he hobbled after her.

‘Casey, damn it. Stop!’

The old man had shuffled back inside his house, hopefully to mind his own business, nosey old twat. Up ahead, Casey had turned into a front garden, was scrambling to get her key in the lock of the door. Gareth sped up, managed to wedge his foot in the gap before she could slam it shut in his face.

‘Go away!’

She sounded so frightened, but he had to talk with her, make her see sense and calm down.

‘I just want to talk to you. I’m not going to hurt you.’

‘Leave me alone!’

He put pressure on the door. She was throwing all her weight against it on the other side, but he was stronger. Suddenly that weight disappeared, the door pinging open and he fell through it, landing on the polished living-room floor.

‘Casey?’

He caught a fleeting glance of her red top as she fled through the tiny galley kitchen and into the bathroom. The door slammed shut. Scrambling after her, he tried the knob, realised she had locked herself inside. In frustration he kicked at the door.

‘Damn it. Casey!’

‘Go away. Just leave me alone.’

Gareth placed both palms against the door, leant his head against it, willing himself to calm. This was not how he had envisioned this encounter would go.

‘Look, I just want to talk to you. That is all.’

‘There’s nothing to say. Please just go.’

‘I can’t do that, Casey. Not until you hear me out.’

How was this happening? Until a couple of days ago, his life had been pretty much perfect. Now everything was unravelling. Why had she done this to him, to his family?

‘Leave me alone, Gareth. Please.’

Pulling at his hair in frustration, he sunk to the floor, back against the wall. She was so close. He couldn’t leave. He needed to find a way to get through to her. It was only lunchtime and Natasha would be at work for hours. Casey couldn’t stay locked in the bathroom all afternoon.

Eventually she would have to come out and when she did he would be waiting.

The other side of the bathroom door, Casey’s eyes remained on the door knob.

Although Gareth appeared to have given up trying to force his way into the bathroom, she could still hear him on the other side of the door, was wary of whether the lock would hold if he renewed his efforts.

She let out a shaky breath, cursed herself for not taking her phone with her when she went out. It was only supposed to be a quick ten minutes round the block, though, enough time to give Hector a chance to stretch his legs and have a pee.

Oh God, Hector!

Casey had forgotten about her aunt’s little dog. He had jumped out of her arms when Gareth had grabbed hold of her and he was still outside running around somewhere. What if he ran into the road? How would she explain that to Natasha?

She had to get him, but how?

To get to Hector she had to go through Gareth, and she couldn’t do that, feared he might try to push her into his car again, and the thought of that terrified her.

Get a grip. You were in a relationship with him for four years. You know him.

Except she didn’t know him. Not really. Four years with him and she had just found out that his dad liked to torture women.

And the texts Gareth had sent her over the course of the night, they hadn’t implied he wanted to talk. He had been angry with her, furious even, calling her a bitch, and worse, for ripping his family apart, and they had scared the shit out of her. He had always had a bit of a temper, could be unpredictable, but he had never frightened her quite like this.

What if Gareth knew what his dad had done? They were both working on the house, so it was possible. What if he wanted to punish Casey for ratting on his dad?

He had never manhandled her before. Yes, he had a temper, but he had never tried to physically force her to do anything. Outside, though, she had been aware of how much bigger and stronger he was. She rubbed at the red marks on her arms where he had grabbed hold of her. Realised that his strength actually scared her.

Until he left or her aunt arrived home, she was trapped in this bathroom unless she could figure a way out.

She glanced at the window over the bath, knew it was too tiny for her to climb through, though could she perhaps open it and call for help?

The problem with that plan was most of the neighbours would be at work. Plus, she would only alert Gareth. Frustrated and frightened, she sunk to the floor beside the bathtub and dropped her head in her hands. There had to be another way.

It had gone quiet outside the bathroom, but Casey hadn’t heard Gareth leave, so had to assume he was still there. She couldn’t risk opening the door.

What the hell was he doing out there? Just standing guard?

As the minutes ticked by, her anxiety grew. He was up to something, she knew it.

When she saw the doorknob slowly turn, then heard the sound of something metal in the lock she realised he was trying to pick it.

God, no!

Casey got to her feet, glanced frantically around her, looking for some kind of weapon. She opened the cabinet, her shaking hands knocking half the contents into the sink as she tried to find something she could use.

Hearing the lock catch, she grabbed a can of deodorant, threw her weight against the door, knocking it shut as it started to open.

‘Please, Gareth, just leave me alone.’

The door pushed against her and she choked down on a sob as terror clawed its way up her throat.

‘Casey, I–’

Then the pressure was gone. She leant against the door, her heart thumping as it clicked shut again. Why had he stopped?

She heard voices, a new one, male and calm, then Gareth’s raised. It sounded like they were arguing, then the voices faded. Had he gone?

Too scared to find out what was going on, she remained where she was, jumping when the knob turned again and the door pushed against her.

‘Casey?’ It was a different voice to Gareth’s.

‘What do you want?’ She heard the edge of panic in her voice. Hated it.

‘Can you open the door for me?’

‘Who are you?’

‘It’s PC Murphy. We met the other day, remember?’

His tone was calm, patient. She did remember him. He was the officer who had been kind to her, he had given her a lift home. Still, though, she was scared.

‘Why are you here?’

‘We received a call.’

‘Where’s Gareth?’

‘He’s with my colleague. Can you open the door?’

‘I don’t want to see him.’

‘You don’t have to see him. Can you step away from the door? I’m going to come in.’

She nodded – which was stupid, because he couldn’t see her – doing as instructed, her legs shaking, watching as he eased it fully open and stepped into the bathroom.

‘Are you okay?’ He glanced over her and Casey guessed she probably looked rather comical, standing there clutching at a can of deodorant like it was a gun or a knife. He took the can from her, his expression darkening as his gaze was drawn to the visible marks on her arms. ‘Did he hurt you?’

‘No, he…’ She rubbed at them self-consciously, annoyed that she couldn’t stop shaking. ‘He tried to make me get in his car. I–’

‘Casey? CASEY!’

Her eyes widened as Gareth appeared in the hallway, moving towards her.

‘No!’ She caught hold of Murphy’s arm, tried to hide behind him when he stepped forward to block the doorway.

‘I just want to talk to her,’ Gareth pleaded.

Murphy’s colleague appeared, catching hold of him before he reached the bathroom.

‘Get him outside!’ Murphy snapped. He put his arm around Casey, shielding her as he turned her away, didn’t stop her when she wrapped her arms around him, let her hold on to him.

‘It’s okay. He’s gone,’ he told her after a few moments, gently easing himself out of her grip.

‘He won’t leave me alone. He keeps texting me. Last night I told him… I said it was over, that I couldn’t see him again. His replies, they scared me. He blames me for his dad’s arrest.’

‘Have you got your phone? Can you show me the messages?’

‘It’s upstairs.’

Casey glanced towards the front of the house, fearing where Gareth was.

Murphy’s eyes narrowed in understanding. ‘Stay here a second, okay? I’m just going outside to speak with my colleague.’

She nodded, hugging her arms around herself as she watched him go. Despite the warmth of the day, she couldn’t shake the chill on her skin. She didn’t like being alone in the house with the bathroom door open.

A couple of minutes passed before she heard footsteps. Glancing up, she saw Murphy walking back through the house towards her. In his arms he carried Hector.

The dog. She had forgotten him again. Honestly, she was the worst dog-sitter ever. Natasha would kill her.

‘I take it he belongs to your aunt?’

Casey rushed forward, took Hector from him. ‘Yes, thank God. He got away when Gareth grabbed me.’ She glanced at Murphy as Hector licked her cheek. Having him in her arms, something to focus on, was already calming her. ‘How did you know?’

‘Picture on the wall in the living room. He was sniffing around just outside.’

Of course. Natasha adored Hector and had a print from his doggy-day photoshoot framed.

‘Do you want me to take him while you go get your phone?’

When Casey glanced nervously again towards the front door, Murphy shook his head. ‘He’s in the back of the car. He can’t get to you.’

‘Okay, thank you.’

She passed over the wriggling French bulldog, pleased when Murphy immediately started making a fuss of him. He obviously liked dogs. She decided she liked that about him.

From the bedroom window she glanced down to where the police car was parked. Murphy’s colleague was leaning against it, preventing her from seeing Gareth in the back seat, but she could hear him swearing.

A ripple of fear snaked through her as she worried about what might happen when the police let him go. Telling herself not to think about that eventuality until it happened, she snatched up her phone, taking it back downstairs to where Murphy was making a fuss of Hector and, from what she could hear, having a full-blown conversation with him.

Yes, he definitely liked dogs.

She pulled up her text messages, found the ones Gareth had sent her overnight. The crude words and threats made her shudder.

Cold-hearted bitch.

Cruel, nasty, shit-stirrer.

You won’t get away with this.

I will never forgive you.

She didn’t want to remember what he had said, but the words were already etched in her memory.

Murphy put the dog down and she handed him the phone, saw his expression harden to a scowl as he read the messages. He nodded, passed her the phone back.

‘We’re going to have a chat with Gareth, take him back to where he’s staying, and speak with Mrs Noakes too. Hopefully he won’t bother you again, but if he does then call, okay?’

‘He knows I am staying here.’

Murphy nodded at that. ‘Do you have anywhere else you can go until your parents get home?’

There was her friend, Zoe, Casey guessed. As long as her parents didn’t mind.

‘Maybe. I will try and sort something out.’ She bit into her bottom lip. ‘You think he’s going to come back here, don’t you?’

His expression remained neutral, but the concern in his blue eyes gave him away. ‘I just think it’s best to be cautious, okay? Better safe than sorry.’

Casey smiled tightly and nodded. ‘Better safe than sorry.’