Chapter 37
Paisley’s cheek throbbed and her head ached, but she was alive. Violet. Aunt Hettie.
Despair flooded her and she wished she could pass out again. But something inside her said she couldn’t believe Trey. He wanted her to hurt, but he would say anything to make that happen. There was a chance, a small chance, that Violet and Aunt Hettie were well.
The more she thought about it, the more she believed. Trey would want to hurt her as much as possible. He wouldn’t kill Violet and tell her about it. He’d kill Violet in front of her.
She shuddered. She would not give up hope. She would fight with everything left in her.
“Paisley,” Emma cried as her eyes cracked open. “Honey, say something to me.”
The room was illuminated by a single lamp sitting on a table. The bulb was weak, but there was some comfort in being able to see the other women.
“This sucks,” Paisley said, her throat tight.
The women laughed, though the sound wasn’t as carefree as it normally was.
“No kidding,” Rory said. “I’m about tired of this shit.
First it was that psycho ex of Emma Grace’s, then it was RJ Davis trying to roast me alive, and now it’s another psycho ex, though I guess he’s a psycho commando ex, who hates our men because they served in something called HOT and his feelings and masculinity are hurt by it. ”
Paisley lay on her side, tied to the chair, and found herself laughing. Which was crazy, but sometimes you just had to laugh. “I’m sorry,” she said. “So sorry. It’s all my fault.”
“It’s not your fault,” Daphne said, her voice hard. “Men like your ex are evil and broken and grandiose. He reminds me of my brother. He gets off playing with people’s lives. He wants to make a show of the confrontation with the guys, and he wants them to lose. We’re collateral damage.”
“He said the place is wired to blow. When the men show up, the bomb will go off. I’m thinking there’s a trigger mechanism on the doors. Or maybe he’s watching from somewhere close and plans to trigger the bomb once they breach the doors.” Callie swiveled her head, looking around the room.
“We need to get out of these chairs,” Daphne said. “Get out of this house if we can.”
“I’ve been working on that,” Rory said. “But so far the zip ties are holding strong. Why couldn’t they have just tied our wrists together behind our backs? I know how to get out of that one thanks to Chance’s instruction.”
Paisley lay there, taking stock of the aches and pains in her body. Things throbbed. Her jaw hurt. She lifted a hand to wipe away a trickle of blood that tickled her cheek.
“Paisley! Your hand’s free!”
Paisley stared at the hand in front of her fact. “Oh my God, my hand is free! The zip tie must have broken when the chair fell.”
Fresh energy flooded her veins as she twisted herself around. Her hand was free, but her legs were still tied along with her other hand. But if she’d broken one, she could break another.
She groped at her ankles, but the zip ties held tight. And then she discovered that the support bar on the bottom two legs jiggled when she touched it. She grabbed on and jiggled harder.
“Keep going, Paisley,” Callie said.
Paisley worked harder—and the bar broke free of the hole it was seated in.
She worked the zip tie down her leg until she was no longer tethered to the chair leg.
Adrenaline surged as she pushed herself up and grabbed the edge of the kitchen counter that jutted away from the wall and acted as a breakfast bar.
When she managed to stand, the chair hung to one side. She was still tied to it, but only on her left side, which meant she could pivot the chair either direction. She worked to get it where she could stomp the other crossbar. Then she stood on it and pulled with all her might.
If the chair had been vintage, made of good wood, it might not have worked. But it was a cheap chair, made of pine, and the bar snapped. Her other leg was free.
“See if there are any knives in the drawers. Or scissors,” Emma said.
“Good idea,” Paisley said. “I should have already done that.” And not worked so hard to break the other chair leg. Duh.
“I just thought of it,” Emma said sheepishly.
The women exchanged a look.
“If we get out of this alive, we’ll never speak of how none of us thought to look for knives or scissors until after Paisley got both legs free,” Rory said. “The men would never let us live it down.”
“In our defense,” Callie said. “We aren’t trained for this.”
“I should have thought of it,” Daphne replied. “Considering my family. But I have to admit I’ve never been in this situation before. I was focused on Paisley getting free.”
Paisley dragged the chair around the counter and started opening drawers.
“Hey, doesn’t matter how it happened. I’m looking now.
” She yanked open drawers. Butter knives, flatware, a spatula.
There wasn’t much here, which told her the place was hardly ever used, if at all.
Probably not ever considering the layer of dust everywhere.
“Aha!” she cried, coming up with a paring knife. She slid it into the zip tie still holding her wrist to the chair and sawed. It wasn’t sharp but it worked and her wrist came free.
The women cheered, though not too loudly in case Trey and his men were close by. Paisley sawed Rory free and then Emma. Emma took the knife and handed it to Rory. “I want to look at you,” she said to Paisley. “Sit.”
Paisley sat and Emma tilted her head back to study her eyes. “What I’d give for a penlight,” she murmured. “You probably have a mild concussion. Are you lightheaded or dizzy?”
“I don’t think so. Maybe.”
“Nausea?”
“No”
“Headache?”
“Definitely that.”
“Blurry vision?”
“Not at the moment.”
“The cut on your cheek isn’t deep. But there’s swelling and there will be a bruise. Potentially a small scar.” Emma hesitated. “What Trey said about Violet and your aunt…”
“He’s lying,” Paisley replied. “I don’t believe a word of it.”
Emma squeezed her shoulder as the other women stood and shook out arms and legs. Maybe Emma thought she was kidding herself, but Paisley knew she was right. Trey had not harmed them. Not yet anyway.
“Maybe there’s some ice,” Callie said, walking over to the fridge and yanking it open. “No ice, but a cold pack.”
She returned with a cold pack wrapped in a towel she’d found in a drawer and handed it to Emma, who put it on Paisley’s face. Paisley grimaced.
“Hold it there for twenty minutes. Jeez, listen to me, doctoring like we’re in a normal situation. Keep it there for as long as you can tolerate the cold or until we start running across the field.”
They didn’t have watches or phones because Trey and his men had stripped them of electronics. So they couldn’t be traced.
“Does anyone know where we are?” Daphne said.
“I have an idea,” Rory replied. “They drove us east. Go far enough east and Redstone Arsenal blocks your path, which means we’re between Sutton’s Creek and the Arsenal. Triana, maybe? South is the river, north is the airport. East is the Arsenal and west is home.”
“So we need to sneak out and head west,” Daphne said. “But probably not on the driveway. They could be watching that.”
“There are woods to the south. We should go there,” Rory said. “Then track west. If I’m right, we’ll come out on the highway and we can flag somebody down.”
“We have to be careful,” Paisley said. “Trey is probably watching the house. He wants the men to try and rescue us so he can blow the house with all of us inside. Which means there’s a bomb somewhere.”
“Uh, ladies,” Callie said. She was standing in the dining area, her hand on the table. “Found the bomb. It’s under here, and it’s a big one. When it blows, it’s taking the house and everything near it.”
Paisley shuddered. “Is there a timer? Any wires leading to the doors or windows?”
“No wires I can see. There is no timer. It’s rigged to a cell phone.”
“Which means he plans to call the phone to trigger the bomb as soon as the men are inside. He’s told them where to find us.”
“That part’s good. But we’ve got to get out of here,” Daphne said.
“Agreed. I say we go out the bedroom window closest to the woods. Trey is arrogant enough to think we’re helpless, so I don’t think he’ll be expecting an escape.
He’ll be watching for the men to arrive.
” Paisley stood, her body aching anew. Lord what she wouldn’t give for a muscle relaxer and her own bed right now.
“I’ll go first. No reason for anyone else to risk their lives if I’m wrong about him watching. ”
“You’re hurt,” Emma said.
“I’ll go,” Daphne replied as she walked back in from the room in question. “I’m the tallest, and I can help everyone else down. It’s a long drop on that side because there’s a drainage ditch. I opened the window and listened. I don’t hear anything but frogs and some night birds out there.”
Paisley pulled in a fortifying breath. She wanted to insist it was her responsibility to be the first out the window, just in case, but Daphne was right.
Paisley needed to trust her friends. She’d been thinking how much she loved being around these women but the truth was she hadn’t fully let herself believe they were going to be there for her no matter what.
She was used to losing people because of the way she’d been raised, and she’d told herself that so long as she had Violet and Ethan, she’d be okay. She didn’t need anyone else.
But these women were a team the same as the men were. They were friends, forged from circumstance, perhaps, but loyal and true and capable of making their own decisions. She needed to trust them. Really trust them.
“Okay, yes,” Paisley said. “I don’t like it, but you’re right it’s the best idea. Are we ready to go?”
“Ready,” they agreed.
Paisley dropped the cold pack to the kitchen counter and went into the bedroom with her friends.
“Do or die, ladies,” Daphne said as she stood by the open window. “I love you all.”
Paisley’s eyes stung with tears. “Love you too. If anything happens, run. Don’t wait for us.”
“Nothing’s happening,” Rory said. “Except we’re getting out of this clusterfuck and back to our lives.”
“Amen, sister.”
Daphne climbed onto the sill and dropped over the side.