Chapter 33
LOCKE
The ropes were so tight, I could barely gather a breath.
I was pretty sure I’d cracked a rib.
But she hadn’t come.
She kept her promise.
I hated that she could see me on this feed. That he could taunt her here as much as he did when he’d tried to kill her.
But if she lived, that was enough for me.
I wheezed as the ropes around my neck suddenly went tight.
My gaze tracked to the madman with his fake fucking eyes. I squinted at him.
Was he laughing? He rushed over to something, but I couldn’t track him that far without moving, and there was no way I could survive another inch of constriction. Already, the room was going gray.
“I knew she was the perfect victim. She would always come back to me.”
I couldn’t even scream my rage.
I had no air for that.
He stalked back to me, his eyes glittering behind the black void. He leaned in. “Shame I won’t hear your last breath.” Then he kicked the chair and the ropes burned into my skin.
It felt like I was in a vise, but instead of metal, it was the relentless tension of the marine ropes.
I tipped back, two of the legs off the ground.
I struggled against no air. My lungs were already exhausted from the knots, but I wasn’t going down like this. I wiggled, hoping to get the legs of the chair to fall under the weight of me and wood.
Black dots swam in front of my eyes.
My last thought was Cilla in the sunshine. Her long legs stretched out, her blond hair in beachy waves around her stunning face. That secret smile, just for me.
Then I crashed to the floor.
Air came so fast, that I couldn’t process it. My body knew what the hell to do. I coughed as I arched my back and took in dusty oxygen. The air in my lungs felt stale and unhelpful, but when the ropes loosened, I rolled out of the chair onto my chest.
I coughed again.
“That’s it.”
I recognized the voice. “How?”
Another bit of freedom. The ropes sloughed off me, and I reached down to grab at the rest, pushing them off my ribs and waist, right down to my thighs.
The network of ropes was absolutely insane.
“Cilla?”
My shoulder sang as I fell off the chair all the way onto the floor.
“Get up.”
“Dom?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” He dug a hand under my arm, hauling me to my feet.
I swayed and he caught me before I face planted. “Where is she?”
“The wharf.”
I tried to grab his shirt, but I didn’t have the circulation back in my arms yet. “You let her go there!”
“I didn’t let her do anything. This was the only chance to save both of you.” He straightened me again when I listed. “What the fuck did he give you?”
“Oxygen deprivation,” I wheezed. I shook my head to push away the weakness. “Take me to her.”
“Thought you’d never ask.” He hauled me along with him out of the janky room and into a hallway.
“Murphy?”
“We found them in a room. Jones is on his way to the hospital, but the rest of the team is fine.” He pushed me into an SUV waiting outside the door. “Go!”
He barely closed the door on both of us when the Escalade was roaring out of the alleyway between two buildings. Both were abandoned textile mills on the outskirts of Beverly.
“Ten minutes out,” said our driver.
Did she have ten minutes?