Chapter 44
forty-four
. . .
REAGAN
“First things first—”
“I’m the realest…” Lainey rapped, like we always did whenever one of us brought up the first line of “Fancy” by Iggy Azalea.
I narrowed my eyes and pursed my lips. “Not the time.”
Lainey giggled. “Sorry. Continue.”
Though I rolled my eyes, a little chuckle escaped me as well.
Lifting my leg as best as I could, I indicated the shackle around my ankle. “First, we need to get the fuck out of these.”
Lainey sighed. “You think I haven’t tried? There isn’t anything down here to pry them open or pick the lock.”
“Do you even know how to pick a lock?”
“Obviously not,” she said, “but I’m sure I could figure it out if properly motivated.”
Fair enough.
“Okay, let’s sweep the area.”
“Rea Rea,” Lainey whined. “I’ve already done that!”
“Well, I haven’t, so let me try, okay?”
She nodded but didn’t move, leaving me to my own devices.
In deference to the lingering headache and insistent pain in my broken arm from the struggle between me and Tuck, I gingerly rose to my feet and took shallow steps forward, in the direction of the bathroom.
While I was there, I relieved myself—on a toilet without a seat, my weak legs shaking from the awkward hovering—before returning to my task.
Like the main space, the room had been stripped bare.
Anything Tuck seemed to have deemed an object that could be weaponized had been removed.
In addition to the missing toilet seat, the tank cover was also gone.
Doors, drawers, and hardware had been taken off the crudely constructed vanity, leaving an empty, gaping maw of dust-covered OSB.
The stand-up shower had no door or curtain and nothing inside beyond a thin sliver of soap.
There were no windows, and the door and hinges had also been taken down.
I walked back into the main area, eyes sweeping the large space.
Stretching to the full limit of my chain, I walked the perimeter, eyes probing.
Lainey watched me silently, pity on her face.
She’d been here for months and hadn’t found a way to escape; I didn’t know who I thought I was kidding, believing my presence would magically change everything.
Despair swept over me like a towering, inescapable wave. My hands went to my face, wiping the tears that had fallen from my cheeks before sliding into my hair. I yanked on the roots, the sharp sting returning some sense.
Falling apart now wouldn’t do either of us any good. I had to stay level-headed.
“Okay,” I started, more to fortify myself than anything, my good hand tangling in my hair and pushing it backward, out of my face.
A knot formed around the fingers. I withdrew then tilted my head and came at it from a different angle to work it free.
Elation and excitement buzzed in my veins when I teased it out—and a bobby pin fell into my hand.
Holding it up in triumph, I grinned at Lainey.
“Oh, we are so getting out of here,” she replied, smile equally as wide and proud as mine as she got up and met me in the bathroom.
“Can’t believe that stupid fuck didn’t think to check my hair,” I chuckled.
We sat mirroring each other on the cold linoleum floor, knees bent so our ankles rested between us.
I reached for Lainey’s shackle. “You first.”
Picking a lock wasn’t as easy as hostages made it appear in movies and television.
Hours seemed to pass in a blink—though, in reality, based on what I could glean from the slowly lightening sky beyond the windows, it couldn’t have been longer than thirty minutes.
By the time Lainey’s restraint finally popped open, the bobby pin was scuffed and a bit mangled, and sweat beaded on my forehead.
Her shriek of joy was so loud, she clapped her hand over her mouth, both of us stilling as we waited for any sign that Tuck was approaching.
When all upstairs remained quiet, I went to work on my own. Since I’d already done it once, it took a fraction of the time. Soon, both Lainey and I were free.
In celebration, we jumped up and clung to each other, cheering as quietly as we could.
“Now what?” she asked, twisting her ankle, seemingly absentmindedly, obviously luxuriating in the sensation. Meanwhile, rage rose within me at the sight of the bruising and scarring marring her flesh.
“Now,” I said through clenched teeth, “we take that fucker down and get the hell out of here.”
“Any idea how that’s supposed to happen?”
“Nope,” I said. “But now that we’re not restrained, I’m sure it’ll be a lot easier.”
The door at the top of the basement stairs creaked open, and Lainey and I shared a look of horror. Racing back into the main room, we flopped down on our separate mattresses.
“Put it back around your ankle!” I hissed, gesturing at her shackle while I grudgingly coiled mine back in and dropped it over my ankle. “But don’t lock it.”
“No shit.” Lainey rolled her eyes but followed suit.
Not a moment too soon, either, as Tuck began descending, his footsteps followed by the thunk thunk thunk of something heavy being lugged down after him. When he reached the bottom landing, he rounded the corner into the room with his back to us. I rose onto my feet to see what he dragged.
At first, I was certain my eyes were deceiving me.
He couldn’t be serious.
“A shipping container?” I asked. “You can’t make me get in there.”
Tuck held a clear vial and needle aloft. “Afraid you won’t have a choice. And we don’t have much time, so don’t make this difficult, ‘kay?”
“How did you even—” Lainey started.
“I’m a firefighter, honey. The paramedics in our house keep this stuff on hand for sedation in the field.”
“And where exactly are you taking us?”
Tuck grinned. “You’ll see when we get there, but I know you’ll love it.”
“What we’d love is to be set free.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“So you’re going to hold us against our will forever? You know that’ll never work, right?”
Tuck patted the top of the container, which, upon further inspection, appeared large enough to house us both. “I’m confident some time in this box will convince you cooperation is in your best interests.”
“You are a sick fuck,” Lainey spat at him.
His lips twisted into a frown, but he didn’t respond. Instead, I watched in horror as he inserted the needle into the rubber top of the vial and withdrew some of the clear liquid.
The silence was broken by the gentle hum of an engine.
A plane?
Finn?
Hope flared in my chest.
Out of the corner of my eye, I looked at my twin. Lainey’s thoughts echoed my own.
Hear that?
Your lover boy made it after all. But if he gets that shit into us, it’s over.
When he gets close enough, we attack, I silently responded. Punch, kick, do whatever the fuck you gotta do, then race for the stairs.
Lainey’s chin dipped slightly.
All my plans changed when Tuck momentarily turned his back on us, and I saw the gun stuffed in the back waistband of his jeans.
“Now,” I murmured to Lainey, barely moving my lips.
“But…”
I shifted my eyes pointedly between her and Tuck’s back.
“Now!”
“What—” Tuck started, facing us. Before he could utter another word, Lainey and I kicked free of the shackles and rushed him.
He may have been stronger than one of us, but he didn’t stand a chance against both. Lainey landed a hard punch to his jaw, full of pent-up rage, and Tuck’s head snapped back. A second later, I lifted my knee into his groin, then drove it into his nose when he folded forward.
Dropping my elbow into his back, I knocked him over. Lainey was already halfway up the stairs, and I raced after her.
“You’re going to wish you hadn’t done that!” Tuck managed to gasp out.
Daring a glance back, I found Tuck already getting to his feet. I thought I’d nailed him square in his balls, but maybe I missed if he recovered so quickly. I had bigger problems when he reached for the gun, lifted it in front of him, and fired.
The bullet passed close enough that its heat singed my cheek.
“Run!” I screamed at Lainey.
Lainey disappeared from sight as Tuck reached the top of the stairs behind me.
Another shot rang out, the bullet punching a hole in the wood paneling to my left.
Covering myself as best as I could, I reached the end of the hall and made a right turn, running like my life depended on it for the front door.
Tuck was moving faster now, and he fired again as I burst outside.
“Reagan!”
Finn.
He had come—and brought the cavalry with him.
Thank the goddesses.
“I’m okay!” I shouted, sparing him only a glance but not stopping until I followed Lainey beyond the barricade of deputies straight ahead. “He’s got a gun!”
“Get clear! We’ve got this!”
He wouldn’t receive any argument from me. Lainey and I kept running past the wall of deputies, who, guns raised, shuffled backward down the dirt two-track serving as the driveway for the farmhouse.
“Get to the ambulance,” one of them said to us over his shoulder. Johns, I thought his name was. I’d seen him around.
Lainey and I nodded. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, making me a bit light-headed. I threaded my arm through Lainey’s and started up the drive, willing myself not to turn around, unwilling to see what happened next.
I’d have enough nightmares of that fucking basement to deal with.
A brunette woman raced toward us, and it took me a second to recognize her as Sutton.
“Are y’all okay?” she asked, her nitrile-gloved hands going to Lainey first, gently cupping her chin and tilting her head this way and that.
“Fine,” I assured her.
Physically, anyway. Lainey would likely need years of therapy to unpack everything she’d endured down there, and I was sure I could benefit from several sessions myself.
Sutton, however, didn’t respond. Her hand dropped from Lainey’s face, attention fixing on something behind us, eyes wide, face blanching.
I turned and followed her gaze.
Tuck stood at the top of the porch steps, waving his pistol around like a toy. Blood dripped down his face. The line of deputies remained between us and him, and off to the left stood five of the Lawless brothers, Addie staggered behind Lane.
All nine men had guns trained on Tuck. He had no way out.
Lane broke free from his brothers, taking tentative steps toward the porch, keeping his gun trained on Tuck. From this distance, I could see his lips moving but couldn’t hear what he was saying. Likely trying to talk Tuck down, convince him to come peaceably.
What happened next transpired so quickly that, looking back, my memory could only conjure a blur of motion and explosion of gunshots.
But one thing stood out, one thing I’d never forget as long as I lived.
The soul-shattering scream of a woman calling out for a man.
“Lane!”