“Like I said, I only saw you escaping. I assumed as much, but honestly, I can’t be sure.”
That wasn’t much to go on, but it was a start. “Hey, can you send Sinner the coordinates of the warehouse? Maybe checking it out will ring a few bells.”
“On it.”
The line went dead without another word. Snorting to myself, I handed the phone back. “Just like Cap. The fucker hung up on me without a goodbye.”
“What more was there to say?” Sinner asked. “So, what did he say?”
“Not much. He saw us running out. He assumed Cathy was part of the group of women he was rescuing.”
“Krista,” Sinner snapped. “Jesus, I’m gonna get her name tattooed on your forehead.”
“It doesn’t fucking matter if I remember her name or not,” I argued. “If we don’t get her back, Parker’s going to gut me and chop me into little pieces. Can we just forget about my faults and focus on the fact that they’re missing?”
It was silent for all of two minutes.
“Geez, someone’s cranky when he doesn’t get his Wheaties.”
14
KRISTA
I jerkedawake after an hour of waiting for our captors to return. Drool had formed in a small pool beside my mouth, but it was the snoring that really woke me up.
It was actually my own snoring, but still, it did the job.
“Are you awake?” I hissed to Claire.
“Yeah. My hands are numb.”
“Well, maybe if your hubby showed up, we wouldn’t be in this position. For Superman, he really sucks.”
“Superman always comes to the rescue. You need to relax.”
“Oh, sure. I’ll relax while we lay on concrete floors. My ass is freezing and my hands are numb.”
She sighed heavily. “You know, you really suck at playing the kidnapped victim.”
“And you have lots of experience with this?” I hissed.
“Actually, I do. Derek and I like to role-play. I’ve had tons of practice.”
I grimaced at the thought of what went on in their bedroom. Not that it really mattered. Whatever got their rocks off wasn’t of great importance to me. At least, I really hoped it didn’t factor into this rescue equation.
“Okay, but just because you’ve had practice doesn’t mean we should wait for your husband to stroll through the door and decide now is the time to save the day.”
“Why not? It’s more fun that way. I’ve gotten really good at moaning in pain and crying when the kidnapper puts a knife to my throat. Seriously, I should be an actress.”
God, this woman and her fantasies. Did women really think about being rescued and the man whipping her up into his arms and kissing her silly? The whole thing sounded so…archaic.
“Okay, but what if this time, we surprise them by saving ourselves?”
She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. “That doesn’t fit the scenario. I mean, if he strolls in here to save the day, and I’m already saved, where’s the fantasy?”
She had a point. A rather good one, but still…how could she put so much faith in someone else to do the job for her? Whatever happened to women not relying on men?
What she needed was a new fantasy.