Don't Let Me Die: A gripping psychological thriller Read online

  “Don’t ever touch me like that again, bitch. Got it?”

  I nod.

  “Now you either bring me the money, or you fuck off.”

  I go to respond, but my mouth chokes up. I say nothing and watch Andrea leave. She gives me one last stare as she heads back inside.

  I step away and fall into the corner of the courtyard. I hear myself crying as I realize how stupid I was to trust someone who hands out free drugs inside a psychiatric hospital.

  I sit there for another twenty minutes in the cold feeling sorry for myself. Tom soon locates me.

  “There you are. Time for your session with Doctor Shaw.” He leans down and hauls me up with one hand. There’s no thought or care to his approach. I’m a problem that needs relocating.

  He gives my eyes a fixed stare, possibly looking for some dilation in my pupils. He seems almost annoyed when he finds nothing. “Come on,” he grunts.

  We move through the facility at a fast pace, buzzing past other patients. The usual mindless conversations fill the air, all things I’ve heard a thousand times before. It’s like some of these people forget the previous day and wake up as if for the first time.

  We arrive outside Shaw’s office. Before Tom knocks, he pulls me aside. “Heard about your cash-flow problem.”

  I try to ignore his statement as I shake my head. I should have known he was involved in the black market that existed within the walls of the hospital.

  “Just an FYI: I can get you more pills. We could work on some sort of payment plan, if you know what I mean.” He grabs my ass and gives me a firm squeeze. I cringe at his touch but say nothing. We both know he could throw me into a world of trouble without much effort.

  “Enjoy your session,” he says as he lets go and knocks on the door. He starts to walk off before Shaw answers. “Think about it,” he says over his shoulder.

  Once he clears the hall, the door opens. Shaw is reading through some notes as she greets me. “Come on in, Emma. I’ll be with you in a minute. I just have some paperwork to process. It never ends in this place.”

  I walk inside, holding one arm with the other as I take small steps straight toward the couch and sit down. I take a deep breath in, preparing for the session. I can’t let Doctor Shaw see that something has got me rattled. Thankfully, the paperwork in her hands holds her full attention.

  After a few minutes, the doctor shoves her work to the side and pulls out my file. “Sorry about that. I’m determined not to have to stay late tonight.”

  I smile to be polite. I couldn’t give a shit if she needs to stay a few hours later. I don’t get to leave this place for a single second.

  “Now, where were we?” Shaw asks out loud. She goes through her notes and taps something with her finger. “Right.” She glances up at me and interlaces her fingers. “Today, we are going to focus on something new I would like to try with you.”

  My heart almost leaps out of my chest at the very mention of the word “new.” I can barely handle my routine as it is and she wants to try something new.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing major. I simply want you to keep one thought in the back of your head the entire time we are doing this: a deadline for you to reach the event.”

  “A deadline? Why? I thought I had as long as I needed to come to that point?”

  “You do, Emma. Without a doubt. But I want you to put one on yourself in the hopes it will stop you from delaying the inevitable fact that you will have to relive that moment again. The longer we take to arrive at that point, the harder it’s going to be for you to process it. But, if I can see that you are not ready to go down the final stretch of the journey, then we will slow right down and take as long as you need.”

  My eyes flutter as I try to avoid telling her to shove her deadline where the sun doesn’t shine. I don’t want to face the event as it is, and now she is trying to bring it to me, served up on a platter, on time. All I can guess is she is getting pressure put on her from her superiors. They want this crazy bitch dealt with and shoved through the system. Well, this crazy bitch doesn’t want to fall in line.

  “Are you okay, Emma?”

  “Fine,” I say, not even trying to hide my displeasure. “Let’s just get started.”

  Shaw nods at me and writes down a long note. No doubt I’ve made things worse for myself in less time than it took for Tom to harass me.

  Twenty-One

  Before.

  I don’t want to tell Darren about the emails, but I know I will. He’s had enough crap dropped on him for one day, and most of it came from me.

  I am about to head home after walking to my car with the other Emma by my side. She asks me over and over if I’m okay, apologizing for the emails as if she is somehow to blame for how upset I now am.

  “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Emma,” I say. “You didn’t write and send those messages. If anything, I owe you an apology for everything. It’s obvious this psycho mixed up our email addresses when he found them in the school’s directory.”

  Emma hugs me goodbye unexpectedly and tells me to get home safe. “Are you going to take the emails to the police?” she asks. We made copies of every message and put them on a USB stick I now have in my bag.

  “Soon. But I want to discuss things with Darren first. We need to have as much ammunition as possible to take this bastard down.” I think about this Karlo guy who wants to see my family in ruins. It just seems all too easy for any idiot these days to threaten someone from behind a computer. The police were near powerless when it came to this kind of activity. Technology would always continue to outpace the law.

  “Take it easy,” Emma says to me as she gets into her car parked only a few spaces away.

  “I’ll try. And thanks for walking me out here.”

  “Thank you, too. I’m freaked out about all of this. I think I’m going to need a full bottle of wine to deal with today.”

  “Sounds like an excellent idea,” I say. The thought of drinking myself stupid seems like the best cure for the nagging ideas that are rattling around in my head. I’d give anything to be able to leave my brain for a minute.

  “Bye,” Emma says as she rolls out of the lot. I open my car with my key fob and climb inside. I take a deep breath and hit the door lock button before starting the engine. A local radio station comes on louder than I expect with some advert that blasts me back in my seat. I slam the off button and grab my face with my free hand.

  “Get it together,” I say to myself. “Just make it home in one piece.” My own words sound like bullshit as I fight the urge to scream.

  The drive home takes longer in my mind than it should. Normally, the road is a blur of the same old landscape I’ve seen a thousand times before. But when you’re desperate to be somewhere, to be with your husband, to tell him the psycho stalking his family has now taken things to the next level by harassing his wife at work, it’s like seeing the world for the first time. I take in every lamp post, every embankment, and every damn red tail light.

  When I roll into the driveway, I see Darren’s truck already there. The external lights are on, along with almost every other globe in the lower level of our house.

  Darren emerges from the front door having heard my car. His arms fold out into a W shape as he shrugs. I park the car and shut off the engine. Before I climb out, he comes up to me.

  “You didn’t call. You said you’d call me. God, Emma. I was starting to think the worst.”

  I shake my head. “I forgot, sorry. Had a lot on my mind.”

  He wraps his arms around me and pulls me in tight. “It’s okay,” he says. I can feel the stubble of his chin scratching against my forehead. The sensation feels good on my stressed-out brain. I press into him to relieve the pressures building up inside.

  I climb out of the car with my bag and lock up.

  “Come inside. We’ll get changed and go pick up Frank together. Whose house is he staying at?”

  Darren’s words make my eyes bul
ge in my head. I’d forgotten to ask my son where we could find him after school. Frank had obviously done the same thing, as I realize I hadn’t received a text from him after school let out. I was so swept up with my thoughts that I’d failed the simple task.

  “Jesus,” Darren lets out without me needing to say another word.

  “I forgot to organize it.”

  “Emma, we can’t be this careless,” he yells as he pulls out his cell. “There’s some asshole out there taking photos of our house.”

  “I’m sorry. I screwed up, okay? I’m sure he’s playing video games with one of his friends right now.”

  Darren holds up a finger to silence me as he puts his cell to his ear and turns away. He paces around as I listen to the phone ringing off the hook. After the tenth ring, it goes to voice mail.

  “Shit,” Darren mutters as he listens to a recorded message of Frank. He waits for the prompt and speaks. “Frank, it’s your dad. Where are you, buddy? Your mom and I are coming to pick you up. We’ll head around to Douglas’s house first and try there. Call your mother or me back as soon as you get this.”

  I let out a breath as I attempt to shove the horrible thoughts crowding my brain down to the depths where they belong. I focus on Darren and work up the courage to speak. “He’s probably too busy to notice we called. I’ll send him a text. You know what kids are like these days.” I smile at my husband with a nervous grin, like I’m a manager trying to deal with an angry customer. It works about as well as expected.

  “He knows we need to come pick him up. Why hasn’t he got his cell out with the ringer on loud?”

  “He’s a teenager, Darren. They don’t think straight all the time.”

  “Maybe, but he was here this morning when you called the cops. He should be as alert as we are.” Darren shakes his head as he rechecks his phone. He looks across at me as if a thought has hit his mind. “Did anything else weird happen today?”

  I instantly feel for the USB in my bag like it’s about to pop out and leap into Darren’s hand. I don’t know whether I should tell him about the emails or not. “What do you mean?” is all I can think to ask.

  “You know, like something threatening or out of the ordinary. Nothing to make you think Frank might be in any danger?”

  “Well . . . ” The single word betrays me in a heartbeat.

  “What? Did something happen?”

  My eyes lower as I try to remain calm for my husband. I can see he is about to freak the hell out. “I was going to tell you about this later.”

  “Tell me about what?” Darren storms toward me.

  I back up. “I’ve been getting some threatening emails sent to me at work. Well, more specifically, a new girl also named Emma has been, but it’s pretty obvious these messages were meant for me.”

  His hand flies up to his forehead. “What the hell?” he asks. “How long were you planning on keeping this from me?”

  “I was going to tell you tonight. I’d only just discovered them today, by chance. As I said, they’d been sent to a different Emma at work.”

  Darren paces around, rechecking his phone. “How far back do they go, the emails?”

  I think about the oldest message I saved. “About three days.”

  Darren mutters. “Assholes don’t mess around.” He heads to his truck. “Come on,” he says. “We’re finding Frank, then we’re going to the cops.”

  I follow without question.

  “Text Frank on the way.” Darren reaches the truck and pulls the door open with an urgent yank. “If anyone has hurt our boy—” He slams the door after him.

  As I run around the front of the vehicle with my handbag, I fumble for my cell. I look up to see Darren messing around with the same pistol I saw sitting on the passenger seat earlier. I want to say something, but at this point, I’m too scared to speak. I can barely work the phone in my hand as I mess around trying to force the door open.

  Darren stuffs the loaded gun into the back of his jeans as he settles into the driver’s seat and fires up the engine.

  As we start moving, he glances sideways at me with eyes that look like they could kill the next person who crosses our family. I send a text to Frank with shaky thumbs.

  Twenty-Two

  By the time we reach Douglas’s house, Frank has texted me back. “He’s not here,” I say to Darren from the passenger seat. He turns to me with raised brows.

  “Where, then?”

  I clear my throat. “The mall.”

  “What?” Darren spits out. “After all that crap today, he decided it would be a good idea to hang out at the goddamn mall?”

  I grab Darren by the forearm. “It is Friday. He probably wanted to be with his friends.”

  “I don’t give a shit,” Darren says. “He is grounded, and he knows it. Going to a friend’s house was only happening because of this morning.” He continues to mutter away, shaking his head.

  “Go easy on him,” I say. “He’s just as freaked out as we are with all this. Maybe it’s his way of dealing with everything.”

  Darren runs his fingers through his messy hair over and over. “Fine. He gets this one for free. But from here on out, he does what I say without exception.”

  “Sounds fair to me, honey,” I say, trying to please him. Darren has always hated when either Frank or I go against his wishes.

  As we head to the mall in the next town, I think about everything that’s happened over the last few days. The weight of it all seems to be crushing me more and more with every new bit of crap that hits our family. I try not to let it all get to me, but I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

  When we arrive at the mall, we spot Frank where he said he’d be. Darren pulls right up to him, despite the three other teenagers who are there. I can almost feel the heat of the flush in Frank’s cheeks as he gives us a look through gritted teeth at the embarrassment he has now suffered by us allowing his friends to comprehend our existence.

  “Get in the truck,” Darren says without saying hello.

  Frank opens the rear passenger door of the twin cab and tosses his backpack across to the spare seat. I glance at Darren and recognize he is about to unload. I grip his wrist to remind him what we agreed. Darren closes his mouth and focuses on driving out of the mall parking lot.

  When we hit the main road again, Darren can’t help himself.

  “What the hell were you thinking, coming all the way out here?”

  “Nothing, okay? I wanted to see my friends.”

  “You’re grounded, remember? That means unless we say otherwise, you’re stuck at home or a friend’s house. Nothing else.”

  “I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

  “Not a big deal?” Darren’s voice continues to rise as he switches between focusing on the road and directing his anger at Frank. “We had the police at our house this morning because someone is harassing our family. That sounds like a big deal to me.”

  “Whatever,” Frank lets out. “You guys are overreacting. I doubt they’re serious threats. They want us to be scared, so we cave and settle with Victor out of court.”

  My eyes go wide. I’m impressed by my son’s ability to dismiss the warnings so logically. What he has just said sounds entirely plausible and makes me feel a little easier about the whole thing.

  “That’s your theory, son,” Darren says, his voice a little calmer. “But you could be wrong. They could be serious about these threats. One of us could be attacked at any moment. There’s no point in testing out that possibility by hanging out at the mall. Got it?”

  “Yes,” Frank mumbles.

  I can see him staring out the window via the side mirror. The scowl on his face may turn permanent if we say one more thing to upset him.

  The rest of the trip passes by in silence. We keep our eyes away from each other. I check on Frank every so often and see his face gazing out with his chin resting on his palm. Darren is leaning on the driver’s door with his hand half covering his face. We all ap
pear tired and annoyed.

  When we arrive back home to our well-lit house, I spot something strange out front. Bessie is sitting by the main door as if she was waiting for us to come home. She sees Darren’s truck and stands with an excited tail.

  “Why is Bessie sitting at the front of the house?” Frank asks before any of us say a word.

  “No one leaves this truck,” Darren says with a stern face.

  “Okay,” I say. Frank nods. We both sit still, while Darren slowly exits the vehicle and moves up to Bessie. The Labrador runs up to meet him and almost jumps into his arms with excitement. Darren commands her to sit with ease and tells her to stay as he approaches the front door.

  “What’s going on, Mom?” Frank asks.

  I hear his voice crack, though I can tell he is trying to sound brave. “Nothing. Your father is making sure the house is safe.” I turn back to Frank and smile at him. “He’ll be back in a minute.”

  I refocus on Darren as he tries the front door. It’s locked, the way he left it. Before I can catch his attention with my eyes, Darren disappears down the side path that wraps around the house. He completely vanishes from sight.

  “Jesus,” I let out as panic sets in. I can hear myself breathing louder than normal as every second of Darren’s absence compounds into more anxiety. “What the hell are you doing, Darren?” I let out.

  Unable to take much more, I open the car door and tell Frank to stay put.

  “But Dad said to—”

  “I know what he said. I’m just going to do a quick check to make sure he’s okay. I’ll be back in a second. Keep the doors locked.”

  Frank nods quickly. I can see how much he doesn’t want me or Darren to leave his sight, but I know he’ll be safest inside the truck.

  After a few steps, I suddenly feel exposed and vulnerable out in the open. I try to call out to Darren, but my voice isn’t loud enough to sound like more than a whisper. I can sense the fear around me, closing my windpipe.