Chapter 1
At least it wasn’t a dungeon cell. Or some dirt floor in the basement of a drug house.
It could be worse. Way worse.
I sat on the rock-hard bed and messed up the white comforter with my butt.
The black metal frame hit the exposed brick wall behind it.
As far as prison cells went, it wasn’t the worst. To be fair, I didn’t know what was happening on the main floors of my prison, but at least I wasn’t in the basement.
I didn’t like basements. They were always wet and dark. In fourth grade, my cousin made us watch an old scary movie where the spirits were always trying to suck the homeowners into the basement. I’d avoided basements ever since. No point in ruining my streak now.
This was my first time being kidnapped, so I didn’t have much experience to go on, but as far as conditions went, I couldn’t complain.
I still did, but that seemed like a typical response from someone being held against their will. Could you really blame me?
Noises of heavy boots on old wooden floors floated in from beyond the old, thick slab door that kept me locked away from my captors.
A man’s laugh was followed by a few more.
Nice to know they were having a good time out there. We wouldn’t want the criminals to miss out on a good time.
From the exposed brick on the wall and the heavy traffic outside the small window, I had to still be in Philadelphia. How long could you keep a woman locked up against her will in one of America’s busiest towns?
The blooming fear in my gut told me for a while.
People were probably looking for me. Before leaving on this epic disaster of a rescue mission, I told my father I’d be in Philly. Now I just had to hope he’d remember. And actually call someone about his missing daughter if… or when… he realized I’d gone missing.
Shit, I was screwed.
I’d never hear the end of it if I didn’t make it back before my next scheduled day in the office.
Welp, there’s only one way to get out of this mess now, Milly.
I had to save myself.
Thankfully, I’d taken an entire summer of karate lessons before my junior year of high school. Let’s not ask how long ago that happened. The important part was that I remembered the basics. Mostly.
I got into the natural stance beside the bed, standing with my feet shoulder-width apart, and kept my arms relaxed at my sides. Crap, now what?
With narrowed eyes, I made a fist and shot my hand out in a straight punch. That move I had mastered. Next, I raised my foot and shot it in front of me, aiming for a roundhouse. My bare foot hit the edge of the clunky nightstand next to the bed and pushed it into the brick wall.
Pain radiated up my ankle into my lower leg, and I fell over onto the bed, clutching my foot.
Mother effer.
The bedroom jail door opened as I was mid-roll on the bed, gasping in pain. Ringo—the man I’d surmised was the boss of all the bad guys—popped his head into the room. He scanned the area and then smiled at me as I glared at him, still holding my foot.
“Everything okay, Doctor?” He said the doctor part with a huge sneer.
Okay, so I shouldn’t have mentioned I was a doctor when they first nabbed me off the street. It wasn’t my finest moment. I was being kidnapped, after all. No one thinks straight during a kidnapping, especially on your first time.
I let go of my foot and set both of them on the ground, speaking through clenched teeth. “Yes.”
“Good,” he said, sugary sweet. I hated him. “We have something cooking tonight, and then tomorrow morning you and I are going to take a little trip together. You’ll love your new home, Milly.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I crossed my arms. He probably meant they were finally going to kill me.
He laughed. “We’ll see about that. Get a good night’s sleep so you’re ready for me. The new guy is in charge. If you make his night hard, I will make it harder for you in the morning.”
I swallowed. None of that shit sounded good. The ball of fear and anxiety that had been cultivating in my stomach grew.
“No more funny business. Right?” he asked, holding up a hand bandaged in white gauze. It protected the spot where I’d bitten him three days earlier. As retaliation, he’d hit me and then forced me to apply medical treatment while holding a gun to my head.
I nodded because it’s not like I’d admit to wanting to karate him to death.
“Good girl,” he said and closed the door again. The metal lock clicked into place, and I jolted up from the bed.
Time was running out. I had to get out of here. Now.
I’d already scoured the room for a weapon when they first threw me in here a week ago, but now I renewed my search. There weren’t many places to look. One drawer in the nightstand, under the bed, and three long drawers in a wooden dresser that looked like they’d brought it over on the Mayflower.
From the top of the bed, I scooted over and opened the drawer of the nightstand. Nothing. Exactly like the last time I checked. Why didn’t more bad guys leave their guns lying around?
Wait.
What’s that?
I opened it further and stared at my wonderful find in the back corner. A long piece of white thread.
Okay, fine. It wasn’t that amazing. But it was literally the only thing I’d found in the room. I’d passed over it in previous checks, but things were looking extra bleak now. It was time to broaden my levels of excitement.
I shoved the thread into my jeans pocket. It wouldn’t help me climb out the window and onto the ground floors below me, but it might come in handy.
After pocketing the string, I pressed my nose to the grimy glass and tried to get the attention of anyone waking in the street. No one looked up. Probably because I didn’t make noise. That would alert the criminals on the other floors, and I didn’t want that.
I waved my arms harder.
It did not work.
Just like all the times before.
I spent an hour on that project before moving on to the top drawer of the dresser. It creaked as I slid it open and peeked inside. Maybe if I tossed it out the window, someone down below would actually look up?
It would probably draw the attention of my captors inside the home, too, though.
The lock on the bedroom door flicked, and I froze.
Crap, did Ringo’s thing already finish, and he was here to kill me? That seemed unbelievably fast.
I readied my karate stance and prepared to meet him in the middle of the room.
A tall guy with shoulders larger than an ox and bleach blond hair—that couldn’t be natural—closed the door behind him.
Had to be the new guy because I’d remember seeing him.
He had a metal tray in his hands with a red and white takeout bag placed on top.
He stretched out his smile as he slid it onto the large dresser.
“Ringo said you were feisty, but I didn’t expect this.”
I narrowed my eyes and glared before raising my fists in front of me. “Why don’t you come over here and say that?” I said, and then silently prayed he didn’t call my bluff.
He laughed, highlighting the lightest blue eyes ever. They were a stark contrast to my deep brown ones. Why did a bad guy get to have such pretty eyes? “Not this time. Maybe later.”
I released a breath and thanked god.
He ran his hand through that perfectly blond hair, which forced me to twirl a piece of my dark brown strands. They were getting greasy, but I refused to shower with a bunch of criminals right outside the door. Knowing they were listening to me pee was bad enough.
Also annoying was the calm demeanor this guy had while in his prisoner’s cell. Clearly, he wasn’t worried about me at all. Which I planned to make his first mistake.
“I ordered you the cheesesteak,” he said, tipping his head at the bag on the dresser. “I figure if you’re in Philly, you should eat like a local.”
My eyes widened. We were still in Philly. I knew it!
What a moron. His one little slip told me so much more than he realized, and I’d make him regret it.
He walked backward toward the door as I stared at him, hopefully giving him an evil, menacing expression that had him shaking in—I glanced down at his feet—his military-style boots.
“It’s just you and me tonight, babe,” he said as he opened the door. Then with enough bravado to make me puke, he winked at me. “Eat up. You’ll need your strength for what we’ll be doing.”
Eww.
I waited until he’d locked the door behind him to turn toward the bag. My first thought was to chuck it in the trash because I certainly wasn’t going to listen to him.
But I also needed to be smart. If I wanted enough energy to make my escape tonight, I needed to eat for strength. Plus, I’d never eaten a cheesesteak, and we were in Philly. It would be a shame to fall to my death from the third-floor window without at least tasting it.
I sat on the bed and ate the most amazing sub ever created by humankind. Why didn’t every state have cheesesteaks? How did I get someone in my hometown to open a shop? If I made it out alive, at least.
When the sandwich ended, I got back to basics—getting the hell out of this house and to the police station. No way did I plan to die in some house in Philly surrounded by raunchy kumquats.
First, I needed a plan. I paced in front of the bed, working through my options. Presumably, the nightstand and dresser were still empty since my last search. That didn’t leave me with many options for weapons. I wasn’t strong enough to take apart the bed and swing the frame around.
But wait.
My new captor left me with the perfect weapon. The metal tray from my dinner. I grabbed it from the dresser, held the end with both hands, and swung.
It sliced through the air with a satisfying swoosh.
Amazing.
Now I’d be ready. The next person to pop their head into my doorway might just lose it. I laughed a little maniacally at the thought. It’s possible the stress was getting to me.
Steps stopped on the other side of the door, and I panicked. This was go time.
Two men laughed, the sound of their voices echoing in the hallway just a few slabs of wood away from me. Ringo’s voice came through once the laughing died out. “She’s ready to go tomorrow morning. Have a fun playtime, but don’t break the boss’s new toy, T-Bone.”
A chorus of loud laughter followed his comment, and I traced it as they walked through the lower levels of the home. The stairs creaked as different bodies walked over them, and then I heard the sound of the front door opening and closing.
My heart rate kicked into overdrive as saliva filled my mouth. I’d only get one shot at knocking out T-Bone if he tried to come in.
The lock on my door clicked into place, and I stepped toward it. The door creaked, and a flash of blond hair whisked past the opening.
I swung my tray.