“Delgado’s got a mean right hook when he’s pissed. I’m surprised he didn’t knock her teeth out,” the other said. “Come on. Let’s get some food. Tequila. We’ll make a night of it.”
The hand slid off me, and their footsteps shuffled off into the distance.
A door creaked open, then slammed shut.
Silence.
I opened my eyes.
This was it—my one chance.
I glanced up, hope sparking in my chest. The cuffs weren’t locked to the chain—they were merely looped over the hook.
My hands were purple and numb; they looked like they belonged to someone else. I wasn’t sure they would even work. My shoulders screamed every time I shifted, but I wasn’t going to die here. And Nik sure as hell wasn’t going to die because I couldn’t move my ass.
I shifted my weight onto one hand, allowing the other to receive some much-needed circulation. Then I willed my fingers to move, flexing them one at a time and grinding through the pins-and-needles burn until sensation was restored. Pain ripped through my shoulder as I curled my hand around the chain, but I gritted my teeth and held on, working my other hand and willing it back to life. It took some time—several agonizing, breath-stealing minutes—before my hands obeyed me enough to securely grip the chain.
Now for the hard part.
Using my core, I pulled my knees up toward my chest in an effort to get my legs to wrap around the chain above my head. My feet scrabbled for the chain. Finally, as sharp pain lanced through my ribs, I got my legs to hook it.
I clamped them tight and wrenched my cuffed wrists up and over the hook.
For a moment, I just hung there, legs wrapped around the chain. I rolled my shoulders out in short, shallow movements while I fought to stay conscious.
One slip, and I could crack my skull open on the concrete below.
I gripped the chain with my hands, lowered myself, and finally let go—landing in a crouch.
Breathing raggedly, I surveyed the cavernous room. No way was I leaving through the loud rolling metal door.
I darted over to the table of cleavers and knives, spotting a small blade I might be able to use. I found a set of keys and grabbed them too, then turned to scan the room for an escape route.
I quickly found the wall on the opposite side of the room where there was an exit sign—thank you, building codes. This led me to a smaller door with a window, which let outside. Before I dared to push it open and make a run for it, I leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. It was unlikely I’d be able to get out of here without encountering at least one of Delgado’s goons. If I was going to have any chance of fighting someone off, I needed to free my hands. God, I hoped one of these keys worked.
I jammed the first key into the cuffs. Nothing. Then the second… Still the lock wouldn’t budge.
The third clicked, and the cuffs opened.
I tossed them aside and bolted through the door, gripping the small knife, ready to run, ready to fight.
And ready to make sure Nik never stepped foot on that goddamn jet.
The freezing air that hit me was brutal, slicing through what little fabric I had left on my body. My feet slapped against the pavement. Who knew what they’d done with my shoes? I didn’t know where the hell I was—only that I had to keep moving.
The memory of one of Delgado’s men drifted back to me.
“Only a few blocks away from her.”
I pushed harder, my lungs burning as I shot down the street. I was surrounded by warehouses and small shops that weren’t open yet. When I finally stopped to catch my breath, I ducked into the shadows of a narrow alley and forced my shaking legs to hold me upright.
I paused to focus on the nearby street signs, and my heart leaped—I knew this area. The Sacrifice used to stand only a couple of blocks from here.
That meant I could reach Teterboro in time.
That meant I still had a chance to save him.
Move, Lacey.
