An eye for an eye
“Too many turns.”
He kept shouting it again and again. “Too many turns.”
She wasn’t listening, she’d got this far despite his noise, his constant grating noise.
She winced at how pathetic he sounded, this once arrogant, mean, brash man, reduced to soiling himself right where he sat, tied to the guardrail. And still he couldn’t just shut up.
The waves were getting stronger in their impact, the tips of the waves falling down onto them. Visibility had long gone and the last of the daylight had vanished along with any hope of reaching the mainland before the storm took complete control.
Why had he not just left her alone, let her take the money and leave. None of this was part of her plan, none of this was what she had wanted, but he had not let her walk out of his life with or without the £2.2 million.
She’d always turned a blind eye to what was going on, what he was always trying to hide from her. She knew he was a crook, always skirting round the grey areas of the law and conducting muffled deals with suspect looking businessmen. She had turned a blind eye, jumped in her Range Rover and gone shopping, lunched with friends, whiled away hours at the spa. Diamonds twinkled from her fingers, arms, neck and ears and her platinum credit cards filled her purse.
But then he changed and she was no longer able to turn a blind eye, especially after he’d punched her in it.
Shocked, scared and with the pain burning through her face, she had simply ran out the door and into her car, hitting the central lock switch as she struggled to see through the swelling and pain. He had pounded at the driver’s window, pulling at the door and swearing at her. It was a minute or two before she’d realised that he was pointing a gun at her.