Caleb began talking about the plans he had for them. How they’d stay here for a while and where they’d go once they left. Charlie only half-listened.
Instead, she used the time to survey her immediate surroundings, desperately trying to come up with a way out. As he generously filled her cup with some hot coffee, a plan began to form.
To appease him, she took several more bites of her food. She drank the coffee as quickly as she could without burning her throat.
After waiting a few more minutes she asked, “May I please have some more coffee?”
“Of course you may.”
As he reached for the carafe, Charlie took a deep breath and told herself she could do this. Worst case, he’d beat her or drug her. Probably both.
As she thought about what she stood to lose if she stayed, Charlie knew whatever punishment Caleb doled out would be worth the risk.
He handed her back the full cup but when Charlie reached out for it, she ‘accidentally’ tipped it toward him. The steaming liquid poured right into his lap.
Yelping, Caleb jumped up and away from the table, knocking his chair over in the process.
“Oh my gosh, Caleb. I’m so sorry!” Charlie put on her best performance yet. “Here, let me help clean it up.”
At first, he was upset, but then seemed pleased that she wanted to take care of him. She wanted to vomit when her hand brushed against his growing erection as she pretended to dry him off.
“This napkin isn’t big enough.” She gave him an innocent glance. “I’ll get a towel from the kitchen.”
Charlie started for the other room, where she hoped to find a knife, but Caleb grabbed her right wrist. Pain shot through her injured shoulder, making her wince.
With obvious irritation that she’d stopped, he growled. “There’s one right over there, under the potatoes. Just give me that one, and I’ll do it myself.”
“Oh.” She smiled sweetly. “Of course. How silly of me.”
Charlie’s smile dropped the second she turned around. As she walked to the end of the table to retrieve the dishtowel he’d used as a hot pad, she passed by the flowers and knew what she had to do.
Sliding the towel from beneath the ceramic bowl, Charlie handed it to Caleb. As soon as his head was down and he became focused on cleaning up the mess, she went into action.
Charlie grabbed the vase with her left hand and swung down as hard as she could. The delicate glass shattered the second it made contact with his head.
He went down instantly, sliding out of his chair and landing face-first on the floor. Water mixed with the blood now oozing from a cut on the back of his head. The roses lay over his still form, the sight reminding her of a funeral.
Unfortunately, he was still breathing.
For a second, Charlie thought about reaching underneath him for the gun but decided it would be too risky. Instead, she chose to run.
Her hands shook uncontrollably as she undid the deadbolt on the front door. Without looking back, she flung the door open and flew through the doorway.
Running as fast as she could, Charlie went down the porch steps and across the vast front yard.
It was still fairly early but, thanks to Daylight Savings Time, the sun would be setting soon. The night sky would either help her or make things worse.
Only one way to find out.
As she ran across the soft grass in her bare feet, Charlie looked around for signs of civilization. It only took seconds to realize there was none.
Assessing her options, she decided her only chance was to head for the trees. If Caleb came looking for her —and he would—the combination of trees and the impending darkness would help to keep her safe.
Charlie had just reached the tree line when she heard the shots. She cried out from the inferno of pain that seared through the left side of her back as one of the bullets grazed her.
Stumbling forward, she nearly fell but somehow managed to keep upright. She could hear Caleb screaming for her to come back.
Like hell!
