He’d been her guardian. Her protector. And somewhere in the middle of all the craziness, he’d become the man she didn’t want to live without.
Trace will be the only one living if you don’t figure a way out of this hell hole.
The tiny voice was right. She needed to find a way to escape, or her chances of a future with Trace would end with her murder.
Only problem was, her energy was quickly depleting from the miniscule amount of food and water they’d provided. With her luck, even if she did manage to find a way to fight back, she’d probably pass out before she could.
Wait a minute...that might actually work.
It was a long shot, but it was all she had.
Emma knew her brother and Trace would move heaven and earth to find her. She also knew she’d most likely be dead before that ever happened.
If she was going to die anyway, she’d rather it be because she was fighting to save herself, rather than waiting to be slaughtered.
Decision made, Emma laid down on her stomach. Facing away from the cell door, she did her best to shallow her breathing in order to appear unconscious.
Then she waited.
What felt like hours later, she finally heard someone coming. Her pulse rushed past her ears, heart beating so hard against the inside of her chest, she would’ve sworn the man keying the lock on her personal prison could hear it.
“Wake up,” he bit out sharply. “I have your dinner.”
If Emma’s eyes weren’t closed, she would’ve rolled them at the jerk’s use of the term “dinner”.
She could hear him coming closer.
Don’t move. Do. Not. Move.
“Didn’t you hear me?” His booted toe nudged her back in a not-so-gentle way. “I said get up!”
Emma held her position.
Muttering what she assumed was a string of curse words, Emma forced her breathing to remain steady as she heard the man setting the tray onto the ground.
His footsteps started coming closer. So close, now, she could feel the heat radiating from his rancid body.
This is it. You can do this. Youhaveto do this.
The man’s rough hands grabbed her shoulders as he rolled her over. Though it was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do, Emma still didn’t move. What she did do was wait for him to lean in to check her breathing and pulse.
Just a little closer...closer...now!
Emma’s eyes flew open. Just as she’d hoped it would, the move startled the man, making his head shoot back, away from hers. It also exposed the large, sheathed knife on the man’s belt.
With both hands—because they were still tied together—Emma grabbed for the weapon. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt, and as the man began to realize what was happening, he jerked his body away.
When he did, she kept her hold on the knife steady, and the blade slid from its leather casing with ease.
Cursing loudly, the man reached for the knife, but Emma was already making her move. With as much force as she could gather, she shoved the blade into the man’s gut. Not stopping until her fists were resting against his soft belly.
A low grunting sound escaped his throat. His eyes grew wide, and he looked down at the buried blade as he if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Believe it, asshole.
Emma twisted the knife as hard as she could, knowing that would cause maximum damage. At least, that’s what she’d seen on T.V.
Needing to be sure, she swallowed back the bile rushing up her throat and shoved the knife straight into his heart.