She did as commanded, her limbs shaking. The cold metal of the chair seeped into her legs and shot up her spine.
Had that only been less than an hour ago? It seemed like a lifetime had passed since her moment of sweet, simple ecstasy had been interrupted. Regret weighed her down. She should have poured out her entire heart to Lane. Now she might never get a chance to let him know how she felt, might never get to see him raise their son into the wonderful man she knew he’d become.
Tears blurred her vision.
No. She couldn’t let herself spiral. She had to think. Had to find another way to get out of this alive.
“Perfect, they left things exactly where they were before.” Kevin knelt in front of her.
She reared back, not wanting him to touch her. Something hard slapped around her ankle. Shock tensed her muscles. A metal restraint chained her to the chair.
“Can’t have you running away again.” He stood but bent low so his face was inches from hers. “If you’d just stayed with me. Helped me find a way out of this mess instead of feeding me to the fucking wolves, things could have been different. I loved you. Hell, I would have loved that bastard you brought into this world. But you chose wrong and now you’ll pay the price.”
Rage shot through her like a cannon. “Are you serious? You’re blaming me for your problems?”
He smirked, pressing even closer into her space. “Why shouldn’t I? You left my bed just to spread your legs for that asshole as soon as he came back into town. Or was that happening before the divorce? Were you just biding time until he came crawling?”
She slapped her palm against his cheek so hard it vibrated her arm.
“Another stupid move.” Seething, he slammed his fist into her jaw.
Her head reared back, and stars dotted her vision. Pain stole her breath. He’d never hit her, never laid a violent hand on her. Shock stole her thoughts, her mind murky and slow.
Storming toward the front closet, he pulled out a large, rusted toolbox. He carried it to the empty chair set up beside her and flung open the top. He stared down at the contents and tapped his index finger against his chin. “Where should I start?”
Swallowing hard, she peered over at the box. Bile swam in her gut. She wasn’t sure what he planned to do, but it couldn’t be good.
“If I want the cops to buy it wasn’t me who killed you, I’ll have to make it look like the hitman who went after me really did a number on you.” He pulled out a hammer and bounced the wooden handle between his hands as he stared at the head. “Broken kneecaps is fan favorite, am I right? Wouldn’t take much. Just swing as hard as I can…” he whipped the hammer through the air, stopping just before the head hit her bare knee.
She flinched, her body recoiling as she braced for more pain.
“But that might be too much too soon.” Kevin tossed the hammer on the floor. “Maybe I’ll save that for last. Right before I kill you.”
Tears streamed down her face. Her teeth chattered and cold icy fear lifted the hairs on the back of her neck. “Please—please don’t do this. It won’t solve anything. The police won’t believe it wasn’t you. You were at Lane’s. He has cameras. He’ll know you forced me from that house. That you’re the one responsible. Killing me will only land you behind bars.”
Grinning, he clicked his tongue. “That’s where you’re wrong. He might know you came with me, but I’ll explain you wanted to help. You agreed to come with me, and the enforcers found us. Tied us both to these chairs and tortured us. How could theypossibly think I killed you when I’m chained right next to you, my body just as broken as yours? The only difference is I won’t have a bullet in my head.”
The bile in her stomach shot up her throat. He’d thought this through. Really assumed he’d get away with murder.
But why?
“I still don’t understand how killing me will solve any of your problems,” she said, hating the crack in her voice.
“I told you,” he said, rummaging through the tools. “You’re my ticket to freedom. With you dead and the killing pinned on the thugs who own this house—the house in the charge of the gambling ring—I’ll be the grieving, traumatized ex-husband who’ll reluctantly accept your life insurance payout.”
“Excuse me? How is that possible? I scrubbed your name clean off all my personal accounts. All my policies. You’ll get nothing if I die.”
“Wrong again.” He found a pair of pliers and wagged them in front of her face. “You forget about the policy I took out through work. I’m still listed as the benefactor.” He clamped down on her wrist.
She curled her fingers into her palm and shoved her free hand toward his face. She aimed for his eyes, nails out and ready to inflict as much damage as possible. The ends of her fingers dug into his flesh. Fresh blood dotted her skin. “I hate you, you bastard. How can you do this? How can you kill me and leave Parker without a mother?”
He laughed and stepped back, grabbing rope from the box. He forced her arm to the side of the chair and secured the rough material around her appendage. “Don’t worry. Maybe I’ll even set up a small trust for him with some of that money. I won’t need all of it to pay my debt.”
A fresh wave of determination hit her. She wouldn’t give this asshole the satisfaction of taking her life and walking away asthough his hands were clean. She spied the hammer laying on the ground at her feet. If she could get her hands on it, she might be able to use it on Kevin.
“Enough talking,” he said, reclaiming the pliers. He clamped onto her wrist and forced her fingers outward. “Which nail should I start with? The one on your pinkie?” He hovered the tool above her pinkie finger before moving it to her thumb. “Or maybe I should start here instead?”
She used all her strength to keep her arm as close to her side as possible. She needed him closer before she could act.
