Page 150 of Protecting Peyton


Font Size:

My hands were bound in front of me, and tight enough that my wrists hurt. My legs weren’t, though, which gave me a sliver of hope.

Grace had told me Terry’s advice, which had helped her through her ordeal—never give up, and fight with everything you have. Then I remembered Zane’s tattoo. If knocked down, I will get back up, every time.

“Because you didn’t follow instructions back there, you go to the back of the line with the girl.”

“You said I got an hour with her right after you,” Henchman complained.

I felt sick. Now I knew what Grace when that Albanian mobster, a known sex trafficker, had abducted her. I didn’t have the luxury of feeling sorry for myself. I couldn’t give up, I had to ignore the knot in my stomach and power through to freedom.

“Not when you screw up,” Monster said back. “End of the line.”

That was it. With my feet free, I wasn’t waiting one second to be rescued. I was running at the first opportunity, then calling Zane.

Shit.

I didn’t know his number, but I had memorized our work number. I’d call, and Grace would tell Zane and the others. After that, I had to stay out of these guys’ grasp until help arrived.

How long would that take? My heart fell when I realized I had no idea how long I’d been in the car. I could be dozens of miles from work now.

“You can’t go back on that,” Henchman said. “That’s the only reason I took this fucking job.”

“You should have followed instructions. You go to the back of the line.”

I tasted bile. There were more than just these two waiting for me.

A glance up through the window showed we were on a major road with some stores. Running here gave me more opportunities to lose them than a residential street. The car had already come to a stop a few times, and I had to get ready for the next one.

Opening one eye just a crack, I made out the heads of the two men in the front seats. The monster occupied the passenger seat. All I could see of the henchman driving was his shaved head.

Taking a chance, I moved my head, and carefully glanced at the door by my feet to locate the door handle and lock. I couldn’t afford any time fumbling around for the lock. Surprising them would give me a slight head start.

I closed my eyes again.

The passenger-side door would be closest to the sidewalk to make my getaway. It might take me a half second longer to get out of the car, but if I left through the driver’s side door, I would be on the opposite side of the car from the monster, and that was a head start in itself.

Baldy on my side wouldn’t be able to give chase without pulling the car over or at least taking time to put it into park.

I heard shifting in the seats ahead of me.

“She’s still out,” Monster said.

Good thing I’d closed my eyes again and hadn’t shifted position. A few seconds later, the car slowed.

“I hate this fucking traffic,” Henchman complained.

“Who asked you?” Monster said. Yeah, he had to make himself the big man and put his henchman down.

The car came to a stop.

I cracked an eye open.

Neither of them was paying attention.

It had to be now. I brought my legs off the seat and onto the floor without either of them noticing, then I pushed up, grabbed the handle, and flipped the lock.

“Hey,” Monster yelled. He twisted and reached back to get me, but the seatbelt restrained him.

I shoved the door open and scooted to get my feet outside.