No gun. No knife.No, anything.I guess the owner of the room could be carrying their weapons directly on them, but spares can’t hurt.
Collapsing back on the bed, I try to catch my breath.
What if Ripper comes back and tells me that they can’t help me? What then? They’ll need to get rid of me. I know too much in their eyes.
They won’t listen if I tell them that I know literally nothing. I don’t know where Eliza is, or if she is even here.
I can’t rely on these guys. Ripper’s right. We have no trust. If I can’t find a weapon to protect myself, that only leaves one option. I need to escape.
The door is right there, within my reach. Slipping out would be too easy, too dangerous. By now, Ripper could’ve told everyone about me, telling them to ensure I’m kept here like a captive.
Turning my head, I stare at the window separating me from the outside world. There are no bars, as this isn’t supposed to be a prison. I don’t know why he brought me here of all places, but I’m glad he did.
Getting up, I shove the curtains open and lift the blinds. Against the glass, my reflection meets me. My cheeks are flushed, my eyes puffy. I lookweak.
No wonder he left me alone. He probably thinks I’m too scared to risk running. Well, I’m trapped in a corner, and I don’t do too well in this sort of situation.
Shoving the window open, it’s heavy and catches on wood. I grunt, raise it, and a gust of wind tickles my cheeks. Expecting fresh air, I inhale, but it’s pine. I struggle with the screen and grunt again, finally opening it enough by hitting it with my hand.
Freedom is so close, I can taste it. The drop in non-existent, thank goodness. My fear of heights isn’t going to stop me today.
While I don’t have a plan for what I’ll do once I’m out of this clubhouse, I don’t linger long enough to figure it out. Instead, I’m swinging a leg out. Just as I dip my head under, I hear it. The sound of the door opening.
Oh. Oh no.
“You can’t be fucking serious.” Ripper lets out a growl before I hear his heavy booted steps.
It doesn’t matter. I’m out before he can reach me. As soon as I hit the grass, I’m off. Running like my life depends on it, which I believe it does, I’m headed in a straight line toward my escape.
My van is nowhere close, but if I can make it to the vehicle, I can get out of here. Even if I can just hit the tree line and get lost in the pines, that’ll be enough. I’ll think of a new plan. Do something that doesn’t involve me getting entangled with bad men.
How many steps do I take before I hear the heavy thumps behind me? Making the mistake of looking over my shoulder, astartled gasp leaves my lips when I see Ripper’s already out. Like he’s already got experience with climbing out of windows, he’s on the move in a matter of seconds.
Hearing him growl out my name, my thighs burn as I push myself forward.
My efforts don’t get me very far. As a wave of muscle crashes over me, I fall toward the ground with searing heat at my back.
Hitting the grass, I punch and kick as an immediate response. My heart is soaring, my lungs burning. I’m exhausted, but it’s the rush of adrenaline that’s pumping through my veins that keeps me going.
“Stop fighting.” Ripper flattens me onto my back and snarls when my fist makes contact with his jaw. When he snatches my wrist, I know his burly fingers could snap it with ease. Instead, he’s shoving it against the grass.
He’s in a similar state, his chest swelling with each gulp of air. If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under already.
Something tells me that begging for my life isn’t going to work if I’ve pissed him off, so I don’t. Instead, I use my left hand to try to dig my fingers into him. It’s not a weapon, but I don’t want to leave this world without leaving a mark.
He makes this sound as I dig them into his throat, not of pain, but a groan that’s coming from a source I don’t understand. Before I can try to, he’s snatching that wrist too, before both of my hands are pinned above my head.
We’re both panting. We’re both angry.
“God, you are a fucking handful.” Glaring down at me, his brows pinch together. “Usually, women are the ones chasing after me, not the other way around.”
Oh, he’s got jokes. Great. I’m going to get taken out by a comedian.
“Just do it.” Huffing out the words, I pinch my eyes shut so he can’t see the way they water. They’re not tears of fear, justfrustrated ones. “Kill me. You’re going to do it anyway, so just do it.”
Paulie’s dead, I’m sure of it. What do I have left if I’ve lost my only family?
Grimacing, I flinch, waiting for the final blow. Instead, I feel his sigh roll over me.
