Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
I tried to stand, only to realize a moment too late that I was pinned in place. My arms were bound behind me, the sides of them digging into the cold metal chair I was seated on. My ankles were pinned tightly, each ankle attached to a leg of the chair, making it impossible for my foot to fully touch the cement floor beneath my shoe. A soft moan sounded over my shoulder, and I turned, realizing that I was tied to someone.
The memories all came back. Richie and his men barged into the office at the club.
“Paige?” I whispered, afraid to alert someone that we were awake. We were clearly not at the club anymore.
“Avery?”
I craned my neck around as much as possible and saw Paige’s golden curls.
“It’s me,” I said. “Are you all right?” I winced at the memory of the gun being slammed into my head. I couldn’t reach up and check for blood, but I wouldn’t have been surprised to find some at my temple.
“I—I don’t know. I can’t move.”
“I know.” I sucked in a deep, slow breath. Keeping calm was of the utmost importance. If I lost it and dissolved into a puddle of tears, there would be no hope.
I craned around as far as I could and scanned the room. It appeared that, at least for the moment, we were alone. The room was small, probably twelve by twelve. The single fluorescent fixture hanging above our heads almost looked like something used to zap bugs. The floor was cement, as were the walls, with exposed studs showing. There weren’t any windows, and if I stretched around, I could see a metal door out of the corner of my eye. The room was either an unfinished space or a storage shed. Either way, the walls looked thick enough that no one could hear us screaming. At least no one who could help us.
“What should we do?” I asked, knowing that Paige probably didn’t have an answer.
I tugged at my bonds, but it was useless. The duct tape was wrapped tight to hold each ankle to the chair legs. And my wrists were forced together with a thin zip tie that cut into my skin with each pull. I gritted my teeth as the plastic burned and cut my skin. If I could get some leverage, maybe I could slip one arm out. Hell, I didn’t even care if I broke my wrist. I just needed out of the cuffs.
Paige struggled with her bonds as well but seemed to be having the same results as me. “That fat little bastard is gonna get it,” she ground out through clenched teeth as she fought and wriggled behind me.
“What does he want with us?”
“He’s probably going to use us to get to Reed,” Paige answered, finally stopping her struggle. She sucked in a pained sigh. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this mess, Avery.”
“It’s not your fault, Paige,” I replied, my tone soft. From Richie’s words back in the office, it appeared that Parkston’s was his target. But what if he found out who I really was…then what would he do?
Panic surged through me, and my heart zoomed up to a frenzied pace. I tried to keep my breathing even to slow it back down, but each new thought only amplified the terror coursing through me. If Richie found out who I really was, I was responsible for one of the Sanderson’s own being behind bars….he’d kill me for sure.
Or worse.
A shiver snaked down my spine, and I thrashed at my cuffs even harder, ignoring the warm blood that trickled over my wrist as my skin finally broke. “Damn it!”
“Okay, stop,” Paige said, her tone calm and focused. “Let’s be smart about this.”
“I’m listening,” I said, gritting my teeth at the throbbing pain from my tattered wrists and the thumping in my head that only got worse as my heart raced.
“There’s a nail over there,” she said, jerking her head toward the far wall. “If we can get close enough, we can pull it out of the stud and use it to saw away at these damn cuffs.”
It was a long shot. But it was better than sitting still, waiting for Richie or his men to come for us. “Okay. Let’s work in sync. Can you touch the floor?”
“Barely. My heel can just touch.”
“Okay. Mine too.” I glanced down at the floor, wishing I’d worn shorter heels. If we managed to break free, we’d need to run like hell, and that wouldn’t be easy in four-inch stilettos.
I’d cross that bridge when I reached it.
We started to shuffle toward the wall, but each millimeter was hard-fought. We scraped and dragged the chairs along, wincing and muttering curses at each setback. When we were within a few feet of the nail, the door flew open, slamming into the wall with a loud bang.