“All right, Mick,” he muttered.
I grinned.“I knew I liked her.”
We hurried to the truck.Ryan aimed the key fob at the vehicle and pressed a button.The headlights flashed and I heard the locks go.
“Thank goodness we’re getting out of here,” I said.
Ryan nodded.“Yeah, but if I don’t find my cell in the truck, we’re gonna search the house.”
“Really?”I asked.
“Yes, really, Ivy.We need to let people know we’re headed back.Hell, my cell will be able to tell us where we are.”
“I’m sorry.I’m just antsy and scared Boyd will return.”
“Right.You help me look and this will go faster.”
His cell wasn’t in the truck.We ransacked the kitchen, but it wasn’t there either.
“Shit!”Ryan yelled, making me jump.
I took a deep breath.“I’m sorry we didn’t find your phone, but people got by without cell phones for years.We can get back and—”
“What if there’s no gas in that truck?Or just enough to get to a corner store?”
I shrugged.“Then we get to the corner store and ask them to call the cops.”
His eyes widened.“Yeah…and what about the body we left behind?”
I hadn’t wanted to dwell on that.Reflexively, I shrugged.“It was self-defense.Either way, we need to go.”
Lights flashed through the kitchen as I heard another vehicle approach.
“Fuck,” Ryan hissed.
I scrambled back to the small room where we’d been held, and I grabbed the skillet.
Ryan charged in behind me.“What are you doing?”he whispered.
My lips tipped up.“Skillet Attack Plan.It worked once.Might work again.”
Clomping footsteps coming through the house could be heard.
Then, a man yelled, “Campbell!Quit fucking around.We gotta go.”
The walls were paper thin since I heard the man sigh.Then the steps came closer.“If you’re messing with that woman—”
Ryan’s eyes widened and I saw him grip his knife tighter alongside his thigh.
A key scraped in the lock, then the man said, “You motherfucker.Always gotta stick your dick in anything that moves.”
Boyd pulled the door open and came into the room.Ryan lunged forward, plunging his blade into Boyd’s gut.
Boyd gasped, but reached for a gun on his hip.
I hustled up beside them, raised the iron skillet, and whacked Boyd in the face.
Over his grunt, it sounded like his nose broke, and blood gushed down his face.
