Val wandered down the corridor. Izzy and Meg were probably dressed by now. Val continued along the hall and stopped at Izzy’s dressing room. Shoving the curtain aside, she froze.
There was a man inside, big and brawny, young, mid-twenties, with greasy black hair. The tattoo of a spiderweb crawled over the side of his neck. He was standing in front of Isabel, pressing the point of a knife against her throat.
Val couldn’t breathe. Izzy looked over the man’s shoulder and saw her, and her friend’s big brown eyes filled with tears.
Val shook her head, warning Isabel to keep silent, while her stomach knotted with fear. So far the man hadn’t seen her. She could slip back outside and get help, but Izzy might be dead by the time she returned. As close as he was holding the blade to Izzy’s throat, a scream would be a disaster.
Trying not to tremble, her heart pounding so hard the sound filled her ears, she stood unmoving, her gaze searching frantically for a weapon. Her breath caught when she spotted a curling iron on top of the mirrored dressing table a few feet away. More than a foot long, the instrument had a thick barrel to form soft curls and an easy-to-grip handle. If she could get to it, the curling iron would make the perfect weapon.
“What . . . what do you want?” Izzy asked, trying to keep the man distracted, her voice shaking, the blade pressing into the soft flesh at the side of her neck.
The man lewdly rubbed his crotch. “What do I want? I want you to suck me, sweetheart. You do that, you get me off real good, and I’ll leave.”
Fear rolled down Val’s spine as she inched toward the dressing table. Izzy looked as if she might faint.
“If you don’t leave now . . . I’ll . . . I’ll scream.”
He just grunted. “Make a sound and I’ll cut your pretty throat.” He reached for his zipper and, one-handed, buzzed it down.
Val crept closer. Izzy made a small, terrified sound as the man started to free himself.
Val grabbed the handle of the curling iron, jerked her weapon into the air, and swung it with all her strength. The barrel smashed into the side of the man’s head, knocking him sideways away from Izzy, the knife flying out of his hand.
“Bitch!”
“Run!” Val screamed, rushing forward, swinging her makeshift weapon again before the man could recover, the barrel connecting hard with his jaw, sending him sprawling again. Isabel raced out of the room as the man crashed against the wall, then slid onto the floor with a groan.
Val raced toward him. Gripping the curling iron, she braced her legs apart and got ready to take another swing.
“Jesus Christ Almighty!” The roar of Ethan’s voice stirred a rush of relief so strong she felt dizzy. He strode into the room, followed by Dirk and a pale-faced, trembling Izzy.
Dirk went for the guy on the floor as Ethan moved up behind Val. He wrapped his arms around her waist and tried to ease the curling iron from her hand, but Val couldn’t seem to let go.
“It’s all right, baby,” he said softly. “We’ve got him. Everything’s under control.”
The guy didn’t even struggle as Dirk jerked him to his feet, whirled him around, and slammed him face-first against the wall. Dirk kicked his legs apart, dragged his hands behind his back, and bound them with a plastic tie.
Val still gripped her weapon.
“Come on, honey, everything’s okay. Let me have it.”
When her fingers finally relaxed, he eased the curling iron from her hand and tossed it onto the sofa but kept his arm around her waist.
“You okay?”
She had been. Now she wasn’t. She prayed she wouldn’t throw up. “That man . . . he tried . . . he attacked Izzy.”
“I know, baby.” Ethan cast a glance at Izzy’s attacker, his eyes wild, clearly high on something, now trussed up and harmless.
Val felt Ethan’s muscles relax. A few feet away, Isabel stood shaking. Val wanted to go to her, but she was afraid if she moved her legs wouldn’t hold her up.
“What’s your name?” Ethan asked the man on the floor.
When the guy didn’t answer, Dirk whacked him on the back of the head. “Answer the man’s question.”
“Fuck you,” the guy said.
Dirk whacked him again. “Tell the man your name.”
