Chapter 1
My eyelids feel like they’re weighed down by lead. My mouth is so dry that my tongue feels like a giant ball of cotton.
They weren’t joking. Whatever they injected me with was much stronger than anything I had ever had the displeasure of receiving.
Fuck.
It feels like I got hit by a train.
Taking stock of my limbs, I’m happy to find nothing missing, though my wrists and ankles are bound. It doesn’t take much to realize it’s a lot more than standard duct tape holding me. Well, at least they aren’t stupid.
Actually, that’s not true either. The fact that they have me at all shows they are. They’re just not stupid enough to try holding me with something so insulting.
Hopefully, they only hit Charlotte with a regular sedative, not the shit I got. I hate to think she’s going to have to go through this bullshit, too.
Keeping my breathing level, I listen to my surroundings, counting to ninety in my head.
Ninety seconds doesn’t sound like a long time, but most people can’t handle sitting still for long.
The room’s completely silent, though, and it stays that way.
Just to be sure, I force a pained groan and shift slightly.
It should be enough to alert someone that I’m waking, but still, the room remains quiet.
Maybe they are morons after all.
It takes more effort than it should to pry my eyes open. When I finally manage it, I have to quickly slam them shut again. The harsh light and the intense pounding of my head make my stomach roll, and I choke back the urge to vomit.
I sit for a second, letting my stomach settle. With a deep breath, I slowly try again. Thankfully, the room doesn’t spin this time, and my stomach isn’t quite as upset. Unfortunately, the ache in my skull doesn’t seem like it’s going anywhere anytime soon.
A quick scan of the room reveals that I am, in fact, alone.
The room isn’t very big, with only a few basic things, all of which I can see from my spot on the floor if I lean forward.
Two beds with a small nightstand between them, with only the room’s phone and lamp sitting on top.
To my left is a door I assume is the exit, based on the chain lock hanging from it.
On my right is a dresser with a TV, and beyond that, another door, which I assume is a bathroom, even though the light is off, leaving it dark.
Overall, the room is bare and small, but it’s not gross. Believe me, I’ve been in far worse.
Sadly, the one thing I’d hoped to find isn’t here.
Charlotte.
The need to find her pulses through me, helping me to push through the pain in my head and limbs. Everything else can wait, but every second Charlotte is gone is a second too long.
The rope around my wrists feels thick as I run my fingers along it.
Which means I won’t be snapping it, and suddenly I miss my zip ties.
No worries, though. I stretch my legs out in front of me and roll my eyes.
Everyone thinks you can just tie up someone’s wrists and ankles and render them immobile.
Wrong.
Unless you connect the two, there’s still a very simple way to escape.
Well, there are actually a few of them, but I only need one.
I scoot back, pressing my back flat against the wall with my legs out in front of me.
Bringing my knees up, I plant my feet on the ground and lift my ass enough to shimmy my wrists under my thighs.
After that, it’s just a matter of twisting and turning until I can free one leg and then the other.
It takes me maybe three minutes, but now that my hands are in front of me, I have a lot more mobility.
Thank God I make a habit of stretching. I’d love to see someone like Rick or Kratos try that. I smile at the thought before quickly dismissing it. That's the last thing I should be thinking about right now.
I take it slow, pushing to my feet as the room around me sways. The last thing I need is to find out if anyone is on the other side of the door waiting, and crashing back down to the floor would definitely be enough to alert them.
By the time I’m upright, I’m damn near panting as sweat beads along my brow and rolls down the back of my neck.
Fuck, I need this shit out of my system.
The curtains next to the bed are drawn, and I don’t dare peek out before I have something to defend myself with. Judging from the lack of glow around them, I assume it’s night or will be shortly. That doesn’t tell me much, though. Who knows how long I’ve been out?
Not me, that’s for sure.
I hobble my ass to the bed. It’s slow going, but I manage.
Perched on the edge, I begin working on the rope around my feet.
It’s tied pretty tight, but I’m able to move enough to wiggle.
Which means, eventually, I should be able to push on the ropes enough to free one of my feet.
Add the fact that I can tug and pull on it with my hands, and it will go even faster.
I steal a glance at the clock as my foot finally pops free. It took about twenty minutes. Not great, but not terrible either. The skin on both of my ankles is raw and red from the rope rubbing on it, but I didn’t break skin, so I’m going to count it as a win.
Now, I just need to find a way to get my hands free.
The rope binding my hands is loose, but I’m pretty sure that’s from the new angle.
Unfortunately, I still don’t think I have enough room to wiggle them out.
Feet are so much easier; all you need is a little slack and the ability to point your toe, and given enough time, you’re free.
But wrists are usually much slimmer than the rest of the hand, making the same trick kind of useless.
Looking around the room, nothing helpful sticks out.
The edge of the dresser has a slight point, but not enough to saw through the ties.
At least not without wasting hours that I’m not sure I have.
The bathroom probably has a mirror, and while I’d rather not risk drawing attention to myself with the sound of breaking it, that would give me not only a way to escape but a weapon.
If they have even a small towel, I can try to mask the noise.
If all else fails, I can always dislocate my thumb, but I’d really rather not. It’s not only painful but also puts me at a disadvantage should I need to fight.
No sooner than I decide to try the mirror, I hear movement outside the door. Heavy footsteps approaching, and more than one set. Looks like I’ll be fighting as is. That’s fine. I can deal with this. It's not exactly what I wanted, but at least my feet are free.
A key turns in the lock, followed by the turn of the knob before the door swings open, and I’m once again face-to-face with my two hooded kidnappers.
“Told you she’d be awake and ready to go,” the one who tackled me says, and while I can’t see his face, I can hear his smirk.
“It would seem you were right,” the gun guy says, and while he’s no longer holding the gun, I don’t doubt he still has it on him.
“How did the princess sleep?” he asks as he walks in, swinging the door closed behind him with a bang.
“Peacefully. Thanks for that. I’ve really been behind on my beauty rest,” I shoot back with a wink.
“Can’t have that now, can we?” he says with a dry chuckle as he walks toward me.
I sit up straighter on the bed. I’m no match for his height, even standing, but if I were to stand now, he’d think I’m afraid of him. I’m not, but even if I were, I would never show it. Guys like him get off on power, and I refuse to give him any.
He towers over me to the point that his chin almost rests on his chest when he looks down at me. Despite that, I don’t budge.
“You know, most sane people would be scared right now? Asking a bunch of questions. Begging for their lives.”
His hand comes up from behind him, and I know he’s grabbed his gun even before the cold steel presses into my temple.
I smile, looking up at him through my lashes, and his brows pull down in confusion, framing familiar green eyes.
“Well, I’m not most people, and who said anything about me being sane, Leo?”