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Linda remained sitting where she was at the kitchen table, seemingly oblivious to Jaz’s terror filled confusion. Eagerly she stared at the door, her cheeks flushed and a small smile playing on her lips.

The door opened a crack.

“Ed’s behind the door and he’s going to knock you out with a frying pan!” Linda shouted.

Bitch, was all Jaz could think.

Jaz screamed when she saw a nozzle of a long, thin gun sticking out through the gap in the door.

And it was pointed right at her.

“Oh my god Ed, he’s got a fucking gun,” she screamed.

“That’s right,” said the stranger from the other side of the door. “And I will shoot you unless Ed drops the weapon and moves over to the kitchen table and sits down with his hands on his head.”

Ed didn’t have to be asked twice. His face looked contorted as if he was in physical pain, but he did as instructed, the frying pan dropping to the floor with a loud clatter. He sat down opposite Linda at the table.

The man came into the room, gun held out in front of him. Jaz had seen enough movies to know the long, thin part was a silencer.

“You,” Ed said, sounding every bit as surprised as Jaz felt.

She recognised the good looking man straightaway, although it took a moment to dredge up the man’s name from her memory banks.

Jason Jacks, she thought in confusion, the name coming to her in a flash. Jason Jacks, our god damn wedding photographer… What the fuck is going on here?

CHAPTER FOUR.

The sense of unreality was all consuming. Ed gazed up at the intruder in total disbelief.

Jason Jacks? Their wedding photographer? What was this shit?

“What is this? What do you want? Why are you here?”

“Questions, questions. Always with the questions.”

Come on Ed, don’t freak out, you have to keep it together.

Jason Jacks just looked so normal, none of this made a dot of sense. Ed mentally fast tracked back to the wedding. This was the very same, outgoing, charming guy that had flirted with the bridesmaids and joked with the guests. The same man that had effortlessly rounded up the wedding guests into their designated groups for photos through force of personality alone.

If ever there was a stereotype of a serial killer, it sure as shit wasn’t him. He was Mr Charm-Personified. Mr Handsome-As-Fuck.

And now they were going to die.

“You don’t have to do this,” Ed said calmly. “Just walk out the door and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

Jason Jacks stared at him, his expression unreadable. Ed tried not to flinch with the gun trained on his face. The sound of his wife’s soft sobbing reached his ears, but he did not look at her, refusing to break eye contact with Jason Jacks as if that would somehow attest to his masculinity and save them.

“They have weapons.” Linda said helpfully. “Ed has a knife tucked into the back of his jeans and Jaz is holding one behind her back.”

Jason Jacks turned to look at her, like he had only just noticed that she was in the room with them.

“Thank you, Linda.”

“How do you two know each other?” Jaz asked.

How, indeed.

Jaz wiped her soggy eyes on the back of her hand. In that moment he was so proud of her for reigning in the tears, and for the briefest of seconds their eyes locked. He nodded his head ever so slightly in approval.

Be strong, baby. Can you do that for me?

“It doesn’t pay to air your dirty laundry in public. I was watching last night. I saw you go to kiss Ed, Linda. I saw and heard everything. And then I followed dear Linda and her lumbering boyfriend home. Or ex-boyfriend, I should say. They were so busy arguing they didn’t notice the man right behind them. ”

“It was you over on the cliff path,” Ed said. “I knew I saw someone.”

“Indeed. And now, we’re all going to play a little game. But first of all I’d like you both to lay the knives on the table. Come on, chop chop.”

The man waved the gun at him and Jaz. Jaz was the first to act; she removed her hand from behind her back and took a step towards the table, dropping the knife onto it with a clatter.

The bastard turned the gun back onto Ed.

“Get on with it or I’ll cut your wife.”

Ed’s blood ran cold.

I will fucking kill you for this, he thought when he lay his knife on the table.

“Very good, now we can start the game. Tell me Edward Sullivan, do you love your wife?”

Ed glared at him, a fireball of hatred burning inside his chest. “Yes, I love my wife.”

“With all your heart?”

Ed looked at the man, and he looked at the gun.

“Yes, with all my fucking heart. What the fuck do you want with us?”

The anger was burning out of control, he could feel it.

“This is your last warning, Ed. Be nice.”

Ed took a deep breath in an attempt to still his wildly beating heart and reign in his temper.

“You’re looking very beautiful this evening, Jaz. Are you auditioning for a wet t-shirt competition? We can all clearly see your tits.”

Inside, Ed seethed. His wife’s state of attire had been the furthest thing from his mind since she had entered the kitchen, but now it was pointed out to him, he realised the fucker was right. The thin material of Jaz’s dress clung wetly to her body, entirely see-through in places.

For the briefest of seconds he was angry at her for coming down here blatantly underwear-less and with the wet dress plastered to her lush body. Her nipples were clearly visible, straining the flimsy, almost invisible material.

“Please don’t hurt us. We won’t tell, will we Ed? Please just go…”

Ed knew his wife’s pleading wasn’t helping any. Playing into the shitty situation and making things worse. The high pitched quality to her voice threatened to spill over into hysteria and he threw her what he hoped was a stern look.

Suck it up, baby…

“As I was saying,” Jason continued, casually pointing the gun at the three of them in turn. “I like to think of myself as bit of a love guru, if you know what I mean.”

Ed didn’t. And by the looks of his wife’s terrified expression, neither did she.  Linda just looked curious and not at all frightened.

What is it with her? Why isn’t she frightened?

Because she’s fucking nuts, is why.

That fact scared him almost as much as Jason Jacks did.

“So the thing is, I would like to test the love you have for your wife, Ed. And the same for you, Jaz. I’ve never done it like this before, not with a bona-fide love triangle. Tell me Jaz, do you think you love your husband more than Linda does?”

Jaz didn’t reply, she was sobbing softly. Linda watched her cry with her head cocked to one side, her eyes gleaming with some inner madness that Ed couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

“I love him more, Jason,” Linda said with the simple self-assurance of a young child.

The hairs on the back of Ed’s neck stood up on end at the plaintive quality to her voice. A sudden rush of hatred for the woman coursed through him. In that moment he felt with cold certainty that he would do anything to protect his wife from these two loons.

He would fucking kill the pair of them in a heartbeat.

“Well, dear Linda, that’s what we are about to find out. But we’re not starting with you. We’re starting with Ed.” Jason turned his full attention to Ed, his blue eyes glinting with the kind of mirth that would leave any sane person terrified for their life. “Ed, I want you to choose between two simple tasks. Cut off Linda’s little finger or tell your wife that you hate her.”