This time, when I struggled with that arm, there was some leeway. The armrest of the chair moved with my writhing, and I put all of my muscle behind it, using strength I didn’t even know I had. It was my left hand in question, and though I burned the shit out of my skin around my wrist, the fall must’ve cracked the wood that connected the armrest to the seat of the chair—also the part of the chair that Jason had tied the rope around to anchor me down. I was able to jerk my hand forward and bust the rest of the broken wood support, pulling my hand, rope and all, off the armrest.
Thank God.
Though the skin on my wrist burned with annoyance, with my left hand free I was able to work on loosening the knot tying down my right. Soon enough I was working on my ankles after getting the rope off my left wrist.
Now, I was no master at knots, but I liked to think I undid myself pretty damn well, all things considered.
Free from the chair, I lunged for the coffee table and grabbed my gauntlets, both of them. I thought about fiddling with my claws to get them on in case Jason returned, but I decided against it, figuring it’d waste too much time. My main goal needed to be to get the hell out of here as quickly as possible—and if I ran into him, I could still use the gauntlet as a weapon, even if I wasn’t wearing it.
Now on my own two feet, I pushed past the headache throbbing inside my skull and raced to find the door I assumed would get me out of here. It looked like a front door rather than a door to an apartment, which led me to think this was a house. I set my face against the door and tried to listen, to see if I could hear anything just outside.
Jason, for instance, waiting to see if I’d escape. I wouldn’t put it past him that this whole thing was some twisted test.
The door had no peep hole, no windows in it, and no windows in the walls surrounding it, so I had to go with my gut and take a peek to see. I held both my gauntlets against my side with my left hand while I used my right to open the door. A few inches was all I needed to look outside and see that Jason was nowhere in sight.
He was gone, and it was freaking dawn. As in, the sun was coming up. Shit. I lost so many hours.
I launched myself from the house, whipping my head back and forth as I followed the stone pathway to the sidewalk. It would seem I emerged from a rather small house in a newer neighborhood—AKA not a district of the city you’d think someone would be held and kidnapped in.
I didn’t see Jason anywhere as I continued to survey the area. I didn’t see anybody lingering in an idling vehicle nearby, no one stalking me from the shadows. That paranoid feeling I had so many times before was gone, and I assumed that was because Jason wasn’t here. He really did leave, for whatever reason.
His mistake.
This city was huge, so I didn’t quite know where I was. I needed to find someone, ask to use their phone. Or, hell, find a cop and see if they knew Lola or Sylvester. Most of the police in this town did; so many were dirty. But in this case, a dirty cop was exactly who I needed.
What else could I do besides start walking?
I couldn’t say how long I walked, but after a good long while, I came across a bus stop—and what would you know, this bus stop had a little map on the side of the overhang that protected those sitting on the bench from the weather. I was able to figure out just where I was and where I needed to go to get to downtown. Downtown would be where I’d find an officer, probably.
I was so used to being driven everywhere that I forgot how long it took when you were walking to actually get somewhere.
And this city? It was pretty damn big. The biggest city my dad and I had ever lived in, that’s for sure. If I lived here my whole life, I might’ve known better where to go.
The sun was up in the horizon, warming up the chilly air, by the time I made it to the outer rim of downtown. The skyscrapers weren’t huge yet—those ones were mainly centered in the city—but it was a start. The sidewalks got busier the deeper into the city I went, and it was only a matter of time until I stumbled across someone who’d be able to help me, with any luck.
Of course, with my shitty luck, if I stumbled upon a cop, it’d be the one clean cop in this whole damn place. I’d have to say who I was regardless and hope that was enough to get them to do what I wanted.
I happened across a small coffee shop on the corner of a block and found a police car parallel-parked in front of it. The officer, a woman, was sitting inside it, eating what looked to be a breakfast sandwich of some kind.
I went up to the passenger window, did my best to keep my gauntlets out of view, and bent over so I could see the officer inside. I waved to get her attention, and after a while, she rolled down the window somewhat.
“Morning,” she said, sounding both suspicious and on alert. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yeah,” I said as I gave her my best million-dollar smile. “Do you happen to know a Lola Harding or a Sylvester Luciano? I need to get in contact with them. Lost my phone.” I could tell she was about to ask me just what I wanted with those two, so I told her the only other thing I could: “I’m Laina Hawkins, by the way. The mayor’s daughter.”
The woman’s eyes widened then squinted as she set down her sandwich and studied me.
“Hair dye and contacts,” I answered her unspoken question. “Now, uh, I really am kind of strapped for time. Could you please get in touch with either Lola or Sylvester? I need to talk to them.”
Eventually, she nodded and muttered, “Yeah, sure. Let me see what I can do.”
An hour later, I was sitting in the Luciano’s living room, surrounded by Lola and her guys, telling them what happened as we waited for Mike to arrive.
Lola’s hair was messy, as was Maddox’s. I could tell they were in the middle of something and had to press pause on it thanks to me. Viper was sipping a coffee, while Sylvester was all dressed up in a suit-and-tie combo that he pretty much always seemed to wear. I didn’t think I’d ever seen the blond mafia prince wear anything besides dress clothes.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, the man looked good. Lola had some good taste.
“So Tessa’s allegedly pregnant and already trying to get you out of the picture,” Lola spoke, her blue eyes vibrant. “Again. Somehow I’m not surprised. Figured that bitch wouldn’t riskcoming back with just the pregnancy card.” She was leaning against Maddox’s chest, and the heavily tattooed man had an arm around her.
