I sat up slowly, ears straining, heart pounding.
I waited for what felt like forever to see if he would come back.
When he didn't, I twisted my hand just enough and pulled free of one cuff, then the other.
He'd put them on too loose.
A mistake.
I sat on his bed for a second, surrounded by the scent of him, rubbing the red marks on my skin.
Then I stood and stretched.
My body ached from being still for so long.
I needed a bath.
The shower was quick.
I didn't waste time.
I didn't let myself relax.
Afterward, I wrapped myself in a towel and walked through his apartment, checking everything.
Looking for a way out.
A weapon.
Anything.
The place was locked down tight.
The doors had keypads and heavy bolts.
The windows were sealed.
It felt less like a home and more like a vault.
His computer was password-protected.
Another dead end.
I turned to the closet.
It was an open-concept walk-in without doors.
Inside, rows of suits hung neatly, all dark colors and expensive.
There were at least a dozen pairs of glasses, all different styles.
I crouched and opened the bottom drawers.
Papers.
Files.
A few photos tucked between them.
