Not that it mattered. She didn’t plan on actually going into the bathroom. Her plan, should she manage to miraculously put it into fruition, included her doing whatever she could to overpower Vic, and then her ass was running straight out the front door.
Vic flipped open a knife he’d just pulled from his belt. He started with her wrists. First one, and then the other. Pinpricks filled both of her hands as the circulation returned.
She ignored the pain and focused on his movements.
The jerk squatted down to release her ankles. “Don’t even think about trying to kick me.”
Too late.
She almost smiled at the thought. But no, she wouldn’t kick him. Not yet, anyway.
Vic freed her ankles, and it took her a minute she hated wasting to regain the feeling in her feet and legs enough to be able to stand.
“Come on.” He yanked her roughly from the chair.
“I can walk myself,” Scarlett jerked her arm free.
“Still as feisty as ever, I see.”
You have no idea.
Scarlett took one step, and then another. But on the third step, she purposely stumbled and fell.
“Oh!” she cried out as if she were hurting.
“What the…get up!” Vic ordered.
But this time, when he reached down to grab hold of her arm, Scarlett was ready.
Releasing an animalistic growl, she turned and headbutted the guy right in his forehead. The move probably hurt her more than it had him, but he hadn’t been expecting it, which was what she was really counting on.
Taken by surprise, Vic stumbled back and put his free hand to his head. “You bitch!” He swiped out with the knife.
Fire burned as the blade sliced across Scarlett’s arm, but she ignored it and barreled her body shoulder-first square in his gut. The force of yet another unexpected attack sent the large man flying backward.
Vic landed on his ass with a thud before falling backward onto the floor. His head bounced against the cabin’s hardwood planks and the knife he’d been holding slid several feet away.
For a split second, Scarlett thought about going for the weapon. But since there was less distance between her and the door, she decided her best bet was to simply run.
Because Olly was outside, so that’s exactly where she needed to be. Outside. With him. In his arms.
Focus!
Scarlett took off in a dead sprint for the door. She grabbed the handle and pulled it open. Nothing but fresh air, grass, and trees greeted her but she didn’t dare stop. She ran across the threshold, ignoring Vic’s angry threats, and she kept running.
Down the porch steps. Onto the gravel path leading to an even larger gravel driveway. She considered going for Vic’s mangled truck, but figured he probably had the keys with him anyway, and instead she took off across the grass toward the thick trees.
“Olly!” she screamed out his name. “Olly, help me!”
“You fucking bitch!” Vic’s infuriated voice called out from behind.
Scarlett kept running as fast as her quivering legs would carry her. She expected to feel the impact of a bullet any second. She could almost picture Vic standing on the porch and aiming the gun she’d seen tucked away in his waistband.
“Ollly!” she cried out again, despite the fact that she couldn’t see him.
It didn’t matter. He was here. That was all that?—
She was tackled from behind. The force of Vic’s massive form forced them both to the ground, the impact so jarring, she was surprised it hadn’t broken every bone in her body.