Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
THEY HAD EXCHANGED THE zip ties for ropes when they reached the house, but the way they dug into her skin, binding her to the wooden chair, still hurt like hell. However, the silence in the room was even worse.
“Then we both have something to take out on your mother.”
It was the last thing Matteo had said in the vehicle before turning to stare out the window, ignoring her for the rest of the ride. Fine with her. She didn’t want to talk to him anyway, knowing he only wanted what she had no intention of giving him.
When they arrived, night was creeping up on them.
The men in the front seat took her out of the vehicle, dragging her around the back of the house and inside through a side door.
They then shoved her down in the chair, a heavy, straight-backed thing one of them pulled in from another room and placed in the center of the room.
It reminded her of something she saw in some cop show on television.
They wanted her visible, contained, and extremely aware of her situation.
Well, she was aware.
Extremely.
They should be so proud.
And yes, she was scared as hell. But she would not let them see that.
They then left her alone for a bit, and she took the time to scan her surroundings.
Placing her in the center of the room versus against the wall had nothing to do with convenience.
It was deliberate, keeping her away from every wall, door, and window, making it harder for her to reach any of them if she got out of the ropes.
It was a two-story estate, but they kept her on the first floor, bringing her in and placing her in a room facing the river.
She could see the last of the evening sky dipping below the horizon from the window, which was itself old by the looks of it, even if it did possess a modern lock.
It looked about four feet from the floor and opened outward instead of sliding up.
It would be a slight drop to the ground but nothing that would hurt her if she could get to the window.
With the window in front of her, she knew the door was behind her, slightly to the right.
However, that wouldn’t be the way to go, as she would then have to weave her way through the house and avoid all the guards she was sure Matteo had perched throughout.
Of course, she had heard them lock the door as well, so there was that obstacle.
No, the window was the way to go. She just had to get out of these damn ropes.
She was about to test their strength when she heard the key in the lock.
She froze, sliding down in the chair to make it look like they had her defeated, and stared at the floor.
A few seconds later, she heard the soft shuffle of shoes on the wooden floor just before she saw the dark shine of dress shoes in front of her.
She glanced up to see Matteo standing there, hands clasped behind his back.
“Shall we try talking again?” he asked.
“Another conversation?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “You say you want this to be civilized, but you have me bound to this chair. Doesn’t imbue me with a desire to talk.”
His expression came off bored as he glanced at her arms tied to the chair. “A precaution. Nothing more. You’ve hidden yourself for fifteen years. I would hate to see you vanish again before we reached a proper ending.”
“I work with computers,” she told him. “You know, one of those people who sit in a chair all day, pecking away at a keyboard. Not exactly someone built for physical confrontation.” She glanced at the man standing off to the side, the one with arms like tree trunks.
“Besides, I think you’re pretty decently protected from little ol’ me.
” She glanced back at him. “Wouldn’t you agree? ”
“Perhaps not, but you were clever enough to fool Leon, so I’d rather not take any chances just yet.” He moved his arms, rubbing his hands together in front of him.
The door opened behind her, and a few seconds later, another man appeared. She felt her eyes widen when she noticed he had her phone in his hand.
Matteo took it and turned back to her. “You’re not the only computer person here.
I’ve had my man break into your phone and grab some numbers.
I’m sure one of them will lead us to your family.
” He held out the phone. “Of course, you could save yourself a lot of pain and trouble if you simply pointed to the right number for me.”
She stared at him. “What’s the fun in that?”
He sighed as he lowered his arm. “Ah well. Then I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.”
He left again, taking his men with him, and then she heard the key in the lock once more. She closed her eyes and listened as the guard who had entered with Matteo turned and pressed against the wall. Opening her eyes, she stared at the window. She needed to get out of there. Fast.
She was alone again, but there was still one problem. They still had her tied to the damn chair. Every time they left her alone, she applied pressure, rocking her arm back and forth, trying to loosen it enough to slip her arm through.
Shortly after settling into their new home, her father had run her and her sister through several survival tactics in case the Serranos ever caught up to them.
He trusted the marshals, he assured them, but life had a way of throwing rocks at you when you least expected it.
He had even tied her to a chair, just like the one she currently found herself in, and trained her to get out of it.
And then he did it again. And again. Until her mother told him to stop because she thought it was morbid.
She wanted her daughters to get back to as much of a normal life as they could after the chaos of their lives because of her testimony.
As she rocked her arm back and forth, she thought of her father, hoping Miles got them out of the house and into hiding once more. She used the thoughts of her parents as motivation to focus on getting loose, and it worked. She felt the rope giving, even slightly, and that boosted her hope.
She kept working.
She heard a creak just outside her door and froze. After a couple of seconds, she began again, deciding it was merely the guard shifting his position.
At least that’s what she hoped.
With a deep breath, she glanced at the window as she worked her arms. From what she could tell, the latch was a simple spin, which would allow her to swing the window out.
The window frame was wood and slightly warped, which told her she would need to give it a good shove and hope it didn’t groan as she did.
What was the plan, though? If she did manage to get out of the ropes and to the window, opening it without being heard, and slide outside, where would she go?
They hadn’t covered her head or blindfolded her when they arrived, so she knew the place was like a fortress with guards everywhere.
She couldn’t go out front because they’d spot her before she got twenty feet.
Then she remembered smelling the river when they got her out of the SUV. She didn’t see it, which meant it had to run along the back of the property. So she could head in that direction, but what then? Pray there was a boat? A raft? Swim her way to freedom?
She sighed.
And then her arm lifted off the arm of the chair.
She felt her eyes go wide as she glanced down. It wasn’t much, but with enough force she could slide her arm out, which she did. And quickly. Freeing her other arm as soon as she was loose.
She glanced at the door, straining her ears for any sound to show she was about to have a visitor. As long as she got out before they unlocked the door, she was good, and she doubted Matteo would trust the guard with the key, so odds were she had a couple of extra minutes.
She fought the urge to rush, easing out of the chair instead to keep the noise down.
Only taking the time to shoot a quick glance at the door one more time, she crossed the room in four quick strides.
Her hand was already reaching for the latch as she slipped it to the side, the metal cold against her skin.
One more glance at the door and she pushed against the wooden frame.
It didn’t budge.
Shit.
She took a deep breath, placed her hand against the wood, and shoved. The frame groaned as it swung open, and she shot another glance at the door as she heard shuffling.
Night air blew in from the outside, rustling the curtains as the smell of the river on the wind reached her. It was time to get out of there.
She swung a leg through the window, grabbing the side of the frame to give herself some leverage, and then dropped to the ground, keeping herself on her feet as her knees absorbed the drop.
She sprang back into a standing position as noise erupted from inside the house.
Guards shouted, and then guns sounded. But for some reason it didn’t sound like they were inside the room or shooting at her.
She shoved it out of her mind and ran, the lawn stretching out before her as she raced for the river. A quick calculation in her head shouted forty yards. She needed to cross forty yards without cover. Shit. Shit. Shit!
There was nothing to do but run and pray.
The commotion in the house got louder as more shots sliced the air. She heard shouting but didn’t look back. She saw the moonlight on the river and focused on that.
However, she wasn’t a runner. Hadn’t run since high school when Mrs. Clark screamed at them as they ran lap after lap around the track.
She was only glad she was in sneakers rather than heels or flats.
A precaution Bobby had made her take before they left the Whitmore house.
The grass gave way to softer ground near the bank, and the river appeared, dark and moving. She didn’t slow down.
Behind her, a door opened, and someone shouted her name. She didn’t look back. Just kept running.
The bank was ten feet away. She heard the pounding of footsteps behind her. When she was five feet away, she felt someone grab her arm. Then a shot came from somewhere, and she felt something slam into her back, sending her falling forward.
Oh my god! I’m shot! They shot me!
The ground suddenly disappeared from under her as she tumbled toward the water, and then the St. Marys took her.
The water was like ice as she sunk to the bottom before she snapped to her senses, pushing herself to the surface once more, gasping. No sooner had her head broken the surface than the current gripped her, dragging her away from the estate.
She spun in the water, the estate’s lights growing further away when a second shot hit the water, spraying streams of river into the air. She took a quick breath and ducked under the surface once more, shoving herself away from the shore.
That turned out to be a mistake, as the current was stronger mid-river, and she felt it grip her, pulling her away.
She didn’t fight it, needing to get away from Matteo and the guards.
Men scurried about on the lawn, racing toward the dock.
Shouting echoed against the tree line, but at least the gunfire had stopped.
However, the cold of the water was creeping into her chest, making it hard to breathe. Panic gripped her, and she swam toward the bank, but she struggled against the current.
“Delaney!”
She jerked around, water getting in her eyes and mouth as the current carried her downriver, the estate lights fading from view.
“Delaney!”
She felt herself growing tired as the river moved around her, carrying her in its icy, indifferent grip.