I inhale sharply as he stomps closer to me and leans in.
Spittle comes out of his mouth to spray my face as he continues his rant as though I’ve personally failed him. Does he think it’s a lecture I’ve never heard before? Because it’s not. I could write a book on this topic.
“Where’s my fucking dinner, Eloise?”
“Why are there dirty dishes in the sink?”
“Where are my favorite shirts?”
“Couldn’t you at least manage to get the laundry put away?”
“Have you never used a fucking stove before?”
“I’ve shown you ten times how to fold my damn socks. It’s a mess in this drawer. Were you raised in a barn?”
There’s nothing Pete can say that will shock me. I’ve heard it all a hundred times. But he keeps talking anyway. “You better start praying, Eloise, because when the time runs out, you’re dead.”
My eyes widen. Why the fuck would he have to kill me just because his wife doesn’t show up? I don’t have a damn thing to do with his beef with her. If my mouth wasn’t covered, I would try to negotiate with him. Maybe if I agreed to get dinner ready or fold his clothes, he would let me live another day. Maybe I could sweet-talk my way into his world until he let his guard down. I could make a run for it at the first opportunity.
That’s not going to happen with the duct tape on my mouth, though.
Pete cackles. The sound raises the hairs on my neck. “My fucking wife probably thinks I’m bluffing, and it’s just your damn bad luck that you’re the first bitch I’ve brought back here to lure her home. Bitch has a fucking soft heart. So I’ll have no choice but to kill you. I need to send her the pictures so she learns a lesson. How many women do you think she’ll let me murder before she comes crawling back? One? Two? Three? She’s too much of a sniveling cunt to let me slit the throats of very many.”
I gasp behind the tape. He plans to slit my throat? Jesus. The gun would be much faster. Tears run down my cheeks again. I can’t stop them. I’m panicking.
He laughs. “Yeah, I’ll make sure you’re scared when I get ready to do it. Perhaps I’ll set my phone up and make a video. That will be more effective. Don’t worry. I’ll sharpen the blade so you’ll hardly feel it. My wife will be horrified when she watches the blood drain out of your neck. I’m sure it’s a fairly quick way to die, though. Don’t you think?”
Pete rises and starts pacing again.
I struggle against the ropes all over again. I wish I were stronger. I wish I could ignore his words and not let them affect me. He’s trying to terrorize me, and it’s working. I rock the chair forward and backward and then from side to side. We’ve reached the stage in this scenario when it doesn’t matter if I get injured falling on my head, face, or shoulder.
Pete spins around and holds his gun up again, aiming it at my head. “Sit still, you fucking bitch. I will shoot you if you keep up that racket. Do you think I give a fuck if you die?”
I stop moving completely. My heart is racing. My vision is blurry from the tears. Snot is running down my face again. I might die of fright and save him the effort.
He resumes his pacing, in and out of the kitchen. I can see most of him through the archway at all times. Even if I couldn’t, how would that help? Falling over onto the floor won’t cause me to be suddenly untied. It would just injure me.
Suddenly, there’s a blur of movement. I gasp as it all happens at once. The front door opens, followed by two men entering the house. Someone rushes in from my left, and someone comes from behind me.
Four men come out of nowhere.
It takes them about three seconds to pin Pete to the floor and secure him with zip ties. One of the men puts a foot in the middle of his back.
Pete starts shouting, “What the fuck? Get the fuck off me. Who the fuck are you?”
Someone grabs the duct tape from the kitchen table and uses it on Pete, wrapping it around his entire head.
My heart pounds. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Who are these guys? SWAT or something else? I don’t see anything to indicate they are with the police. No badges. No logos. Nothing.
One of the men squats in front of me. “I’m going to take this tape off your mouth.” He reaches for the edge and slowly peels it back while another man cuts away at the ropes around my wrists.
The moment the tape is gone, I gasp for oxygen. My arms and legs are free a few seconds later, and I slump forward, unable to support my own weight.
The man in front of me catches me and pulls me against his chest. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
I’m shaking so badly I can’t pull myself off this man. “Are you with the police?” I manage to ask.
“No, angel. We’re with a private agency. You’re safe.” He stands, helping me to my feet at the same time. “I’ve got you.”
