Chapter 26

Chapter

Twenty-Six

GRACE

D espite the speed at which Bones ascended the stairs and the firmness in his grip, he didn’t just toss me down onto the floor or the bed. He set me down, made sure I was steady on my feet and then straightened.

They were all so damn tall and with no heels, I had to settle for craning my head back to look up at him. Curling my fingers into my palms, I relied on the bite of my nails to keep me from trying to slug him.

Particularly because I wasn’t sure that I would be able to do an open palmed strike. The man staring down at me wasn’t furious. If anything, he was positively glacial. The hardness in his eyes contrasted with the indifference his expression seemed to suggest.

“You need to calm down,” he informed me in clipped tones. “There is a restroom, a bed, and a television. In due time, we’ll find you books if you require those instead. For now, I suggest you take the time to rest. When you are prepared to be more rational, we can discuss what is next.”

When I was prepared to be more…

I swore, I could feel the steam building up like I was about to turn into some cartoon character and blow my stack. Not that Bones seemed to notice, he pivoted and stalked out, closing the door behind him. The decisive slide of a lock with the clicking of tumblers echoed through the room.

Not quite believing it, I walked slowly over to the door to test it. I took careful steps, not trusting my shaky legs. The door handle turned, but the door itself didn’t budge. The presence of a deadbolt on an interior door didn’t bode well at all. They were prepared to lock people in?

What had I said to Voodoo? “So you guys are just my latest captors?”

His response?

“In a manner of speaking, I suppose we are. I don’t see you as a prisoner, however. You are a client, we take protection seriously. The question you have to ask yourself is how hard do you want to make all of this?”

“Really fucking hard,” I muttered. When I had clients I worked for them. Locking me in a room didn’t suggest they were working for me at all.

I rubbed a hand against my breast bone and paced over to sit on the edge of the bed. My stomach was a little sore where his shoulder had dug into my abdomen

Bruises seemed to litter my skin and I ached everywhere. The sharpness of the pain between my shoulder blades seemed the loudest and demanded the most attention.

The utter silence in the room grated on me. The focus to get where we needed to be, while also surviving the trip to get here, had kept me going from the moment they loaded us onto that bus.

It had been bait and switch all the way. First, Am didn’t show up at the girls’ weekend, but I got grabbed right next to her place before I got up there to see if she was home.

Then, waking up in that place with the guy who was ready to rape me. Only he got beaten and then I was handed off to another. I sucked it up, focused on doing what I needed to survive.

If that meant sucking some dick, I’d suck it. All I found was that I traded one nightmare for another. The assault on the warehouse we’d been at followed by the violence of those taking the place. My would-be keeper abandoned me when panic cemented my feet to the floor.

Running my fingers through my hair, I tested the still tender spot on the back of my skull. It was where I’d hit the wall. The last thing I remembered before I woke up in the truck. That was twice I’d been knocked out? Three times? I’d lost track.

With the exception of a brief discussion with the doctor at the clinic and a morning after pill, I hadn’t worried about anything else. I’d be home soon, see my own doctors, and find my sister.

Amorette was the most important piece. Calling her, making sure she was all right. If she wasn’t? I needed to know that too. Trusting them with the fact I spoke English was probably my first mistake. Goblin made me trust Alphabet, and by extension Lunchbox.

Dogs were amazing and good judges of characters. Or at least, I’d told myself that. Once we got to Manhattan and I was back in my place, the exhaustion hit. Not that I was given any time to decide on what to do. Men broke into my place and if not for Lunchbox and Alphabet, I’d have been right back…

Where? The people who put me in the truck? The people in the warehouse? Somewhere else? I’d definitely traded one set of captors for another, but I’d wanted to believe that the guys were really on my side. Why else keep taking out all the people who came after me?

The world swayed and I buried my face in my hands. Almost as soon as I reached up and bent, the pain in my upper back seemed to scream. Straightening, I stared at the mirror. In the low light of the bedroom, I looked like a pale ghost, a remnant abandoned here and separated from my twin forever. The idea of existing in that world shredded me.

“Giving up? That’s not you.” Amorette leaned in the door frame.

“Who said I was giving up?” I glanced at her in the mirror. I’d been standing in front of the full length mirror with a pair of dresses I was deciding on.

The look in her eyes didn’t fool me. Yes, she was worried about me, but she still wanted me to call the cops. She perched on the edge of my bed. “You sounded pretty defeated when you came.” And she was here to give me a pep talk.

“I sounded pissed when I came in.” Discarding the dresses into the stack on the chair with the other leftovers , I backed up to sit next to her. “I was pissed. I went to that party because the client invited us. Eleanor was tied up with work and I didn’t think I needed a chaperone or protection—it was all the girls on the shoot. There were easily a dozen of us.”

I wasn’t going to get over feeling stupid anytime soon. I’d always been so careful since starting this career. Question and clarify everything. Assume nothing.

“Grace,” Amorette wrapped an arm around me and tucked her chin on my shoulder. “You weren’t dumb.”

The fact she answered the internal doubt first had me sniffly.

“You weren’t,” she stressed the last word. “You didn’t go off with someone on your own. You had access to your own transportation. You let others know where you were. When you saw something you said something.”

The vehemence in each statement demanded I listen to her.

“Then you got yourself out of there. Your pride might be tweaked and you have every right to feel mistreated, but you did nothing wrong.”

I blew out a breath, letting go of that fear. I pressed my head to hers as she wrapped her other arm around me. With our gazes locked in the mirror, I couldn’t hide my relief. “Doesn’t always feel that way.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here to remind you.” She smiled and I gripped her forearm, holding it as I blinked back the tears. “I just wish you would file the police report. I know you said nothing might come of it. But something could. If nothing else, you document it. That’s how criminals get away with things, the lack of a paper trail.”

She was winding herself up, but damn if I didn’t love that about her too. “I know, you said that when I came in. But I called Eleanor when I was on the subway. She’s more pissed than either of us. Maybe I don’t have a legal case but Eleanor won’t leave them with legs.”

“I do like her,” Amorette said. “I wouldn’t want her angry at me.”

“So you’ve said,” I teased her, then sighed. “Thanks, Am.”

“Always. You good now?”

“Another minute?” Sometimes I forgot just how nice a hug was.

“All the time you need,” she promised.

The memory left me with more tears as I stared at myself in a different mirror without my sister right there. If Am were here right now, she’d be raging. She’d tear a strip off the guys downstairs. She would so have my back every step of the way.

I would have hers too, no matter what those men down there thought.

“No.” I’d done everything right. I’d believed the people my rescuers entrusted me to. I agreed to the conditions. I trusted their word on what was required. Only to find, what? Their word meant nothing? The discussion was over before it began.

Absolutely not. If they wouldn’t listen to me, then I would just make some different decisions. Period. Pushing to my feet, I turned in a full circle, studying the room and what was in it. The study turned into a full search.

I went through the bathroom, the cupboards, and the walk-in closet. The latter had clothes in here that seemed to be around my size, along with matching shoes. The closet was relatively empty based on its size.

In the bathroom drawers, I found razors for shaving, nail clippers, a manicure kit, some clips for hair. Everything looked brand new and fresh out of a package. Other drawers had different types of toiletries, and supplies.

There was a brand new plunger in the corner by the toilet. Heavy wooden handle, not some cheap plastic thing. I took it, along with the metal nail file I’d acquired. I scored large in the closet corner—ironing board and iron. I took the iron with me, it could work as a makeshift hammer.

The bedroom itself had fewer useful items than the bathroom. That was fine. With the door locked, I went to the windows. A wall of windows looked out over the landscape. The wide open field that dipped over the rise. What I couldn’t tell was whether that was where this part of the mountain ended or if there was more land.

The wide wall had six total windows, allowing for a mostly panoramic view. They could be opened from the bottom and there were some standard blocks in the window path to keep them from going up too high.

Sensors were in place along the edge of each window where it connected to the base. Wired to an alarm. That made sense. Second floor windows may not be as easy as first floor windows, but you could still climb up here.

Opening them could set off an alarm.

I backed up to look at the top of the windows—they also opened. But it wasn’t a raise or lower. It was a tilt to let fresh air in. Those were usually harder to get in and out of, not a lot of room.

Sucking up the irritation, I dragged the armchair over to the corner on the far side of the windows and with some effort, tugged the night stand over. The dresser would be better, but it wouldn’t budge and my back screamed when I tried it.

The night stand was a little taller. If it didn’t work, I’d go for the ironing board. Climbing up, I scanned the edge of the window, everywhere I could see. Nothing looked obvious, so I used the plunger handle to push the lever to release the window and it took a couple of hard tries and then it let out a hiss of air as the lock gave.

I had to go grab a couple of hangers from the closet, but soon I was back and used two interlocked to hook into the open lip and then tug the window inward. The cooler air rushing in tasted sweet and clean. It was a rush as the accomplishment washed through me.

The burn between my shoulders wasn’t getting better. Worth it to get the window open. I eyed it, then down, then up…

I was pretty sure I could get through that opening. I could just pull the window wider, at least it was hinged to open inwards instead of outwards. I shot a look at the door then back to the window.

I set the other items down and then wrapped one hand over the edge of the window, I swung over like it was gonna hang from it and gripped it with the other hand. It gave a millimeter more.

So I jerked on it, swinging my feet a little.

Come on . I didn’t need it to give that much, just an inch. It gave me a millimeter, I needed another inch. Bobbing, I shook and the window let out an ominous creak.

The sudden drop as it bent inwards and startled me. I managed to land on the edge of the chair and then my knees without rocking the whole chair. I split my attention between the door and the window.

No alarm.

No running feet.

This was a good sign. With care, I got the ironing board out then used it to prop against the top of the chair and the dresser. It would get me up higher.

That was all I would need.

Not giving myself time to think about it, I climbed up, grabbed the edge and scooted with a shove upwards. Going out face first probably wasn’t the best move, but I’d work with what I had and hope I could either reach the roof or a ledge once I was out there.

A single-story drop wouldn’t kill me, right?