Chapter 26 - Parker

I was left alone in that damn chair to rot, and I still needed to think of a way out of this stupid warehouse. I knew that the crew would be lying in wait to get their hands on Lev, and I couldn't let him just walk in here and get shot up. There'd be no saving him after that.

Come on, Parker. Think. Think of something to get out of this.

My ass bones were sore from sitting in the metal for too long, and as I looked down at myself. I did a sad inventory of all the evidence of my situation pinned to me.

The lovely low-heeled boots Lev had gotten me with that ridiculous setup of clothes were dirty as hell. There'd be no saving the suede from the water damage and grime.

Several bruises covered my bare legs, and I shivered as a beat of cold threatened to break through my concentration. I shrugged it off. I didn't have time to be cold. I was still wearing that damn tank, though, so fighting against the freezing air took some doing.

Ugh, and it's covered in blood from your spit. Great.

I run my tongue over the sore spot on the inside of my lip, and I can still taste the metallic tang of blood. But thankfully, it has almost stopped bleeding now. There had been no good way to wipe my mouth, however, and bloody saliva had dripped down my chin and spread across the next of the tanktop as I sat here.

Cataloguing injuries. How very doctor-y of me. And you know, familiar past time and all when I was living with my dad.

The pinch in my wrists was getting worse, and I wiggled them to try and keep blood flowing through the constricted veins. As I shrugged my shoulders, the plastic of the zip tie on my left wrist squeaked against the metal, snagging on a rough spot.

Wait.

If I could keep rubbing the thing against that area, it might work like a nail file to wear down the plastic. I knew eyes were likely still on me in the dark, this single light over my head creating a stage-like effect where I could see myself but nothing beyond the glow.

The audience, made up of a group of thugs, could definitely see me too. So, I needed to be careful with how much I moved. If I was obviously struggling and making headway on my escape, they'd come barreling over before I got the chance to do anything with my short-lived freedom.

"Think, Parker," I whispered to myself.

I brought my elbows closer together behind my back, the position making me arch slightly as my shoulders ached. I was familiar with a little discomfort for a greater payoff, however. Thank you, Lev. So, I held the position so that I could rub my wrist across the jagged flaw in the chair leg without moving my shoulders too much.

It was working from what I could tell, and after several minutes, I felt the snap of the zip tie, doing my best to catch myself before my hand flung out too far away from the chair and revealed me.

Still keeping my voice low, I celebrated the win. "Fuck yes."

There was no such luck with a rough patch on the other side of the chair, however, and I needed to think of a way to get the other arm free.

"We got moved down the road. Incoming car. ETA five minutes."

Fuck. He's almost here!

My blood hummed, my pulse skyrocketing, and I forced myself to take three deep breaths.

Clear your head. Come on, Parker. Think critically. It's just another puzzle of the human condition. You can do this.

Eyeing the cracks in the floor like they might save me from this mental block, I considered what I knew about this situation. Lev wouldn't enter until he saw me. He'd need to be reassured that I was all right. Me not being in this chair would tip him off to something, and he'd back away.

So, getting out of it was crucial.

I had one arm free. Just one. But I also had a weapon in the form of a chair if these assholes came over to me. Why would they come over to me?

My brain churned and churned. It was taking too long. Lev was going to be here any minute, and—

"Unharmed."

My voice was a bit too loud with realization, and I heard the man from before grunt as my voice echoed slightly. He was coming over. Okay, it's now or never.

Putting on my best face of panic, one I was at least familiar with, I faked hyperventilation, breathing frenzied gasps as I screamed about it all being too much.

"Ah! I can't." Huff, huff, huff. "You can't! Don't do this!"

Huff, huff, and now, pass out.

I slumped in the chair, playing very much the role of a damsel in distress who'd just had too much and fainted. With my eyes shut, I focused on the sound approaching me, hoping to time my actions perfectly.

"Oh, Christ. What the hell is all this, then?"

The Irishman from before shuffled over and then, unknowingly, made my plans work out even better.

"Get to the front door for the drop. I'll bring sleeping beauty."

I heard the sounds of several pairs of boots hitting the floor as they walked away, closer to that front door I'd noticed from my chair. The douchenozzle in charge of me was almost there—almost in range.

Come on, come on. Hurry up, you bastard.

When I felt a hand on my shoulder, I shot up from the chair as fast and hard as I could. My shoulder launched into the guy's jaw, and the pain of smashing into him ricocheted through my arm. I didn't let it slow me down, though. I wasn't finished.

"Fucking hell!"

The guy had flung backward, and as I took in his position a few steps away, I pulled the chair up into a large arch, soaring it through the air right at the asshole's face.

I had to use both arms to swing it effectively, and as it collided with him, the zip tie on my wrist pulled. Like a fucking pitcher, I followed through with the chair even as the legs got hung up on the Irishman's arms, his loud grunt signaling a good impact. It was enough force to tear the plastic from the leg, the restraint slipping from my lacerated skin and falling to the floor.

It hurt like a bitch, and the laceration on my forearm was ugly. It wouldn't cause any lasting damage, though. The sound of clattering metal was a bit too loud for my liking, so once I confirmed he was down, mentally noting the head trauma and potentially dislocated jaw, I ran off toward the back of the building.

My footsteps were a blur as I ran with everything I had. The door at the back of this stupid warehouse was straight ahead. I just had to make it there. Unfortunately for me, a few straggling thugs had been posted at this end, and they heard me running.

Deception was the name of the game right now, so I slowed and collapsed to the floor. The two men hurried over, going on about how they couldn't lose their leverage. When they were close, I shot up again, landing two consecutive punches to their tracheae.

Direct blows to the windpipe were hard for anyone to manage, the trauma causing immediate airway distress, and they each fell back coughing. Thank God for AP Class, assholes.

Pulling myself up off the dingy floor, I started to run for the back wall again. One of the men snaked a handout and grabbed my foot. I tumbled forward, the cement impacting my knee and busting it open. Kicking backward like a damn mule, I smashed my foot into the guy's face as hard as I could, and he let me go.

His nose gushed with blood, likely broken, and a thread of relief filled me. Dealing with a broken nose and blunt force to the trachea would slow the fucker up pretty nicely.

Up and running again, blood trickled down my knee, the warmth strange compared to the cold air around me, and it occurred to me how close I was to potential hypothermia. The warehouse was decidedly lacking in any form of heat, and I wasn't dressed for a Chicago winter day.

"You were too worked up to notice."

But I knew I wouldn't last out in here like this. Approaching the far wall, I ran alongside it, desperately searching for some type of door or something.

Nothing.

There was no way out back here, and I cursed. The front entrance I'd seen was the only way in or out. No wonder my father had chosen it. Slowly to a more stealthy walk, I stuck to the shadows at the edges of the long wall. I moved toward the front, hoping to remain unseen if I stuck to these areas of low light.

The few large windows I'd seen from my chair were coming up on my left, but they were so damn dirty that it was difficult to see anything through them, let alone a sign of Lev or his men sneaking around outside.

Still, I stood on my tiptoes, trying to get any notion of what was going on outside. There was a sliver of clarity, and from the angle I was looking, I could see part of the area in front of the building, but it wasn't enough.

I had to keep going forward.

Using every bit of dexterity I didn't have, I crept closer to the front, staying in the darkness as best I could. Voices tickled my awareness as I got closer, and when I found a suitable spot to stop and listen, I could hear my father's voice.

"What do you mean she's not in the fucking chair?! Find her!"

The group of men surrounding him dispersed, leaving him completely isolated for the first time since I arrived. He certainly wasn't unarmed, which was likely why he allowed it, but this could be it. This could be my chance to run past him.

As I stood waiting for the right moment, another noise crunched into existence—the sound of shoes on the gravel just past the metal wall in front of me. My breath hitched as my heart rate tripled.

Lev?

Slinking forward a few more feet, I stepped just to the side of the front door, which was propped open on the opposite side. My father was only a handful of feet away from me, still unaware of my presence in the dark, and then walking up to the entrance with purpose was Lev.

I had to go. I had to try this now before my father shot him.

And it doesn't matter if he hurts me.

But I still wanted to give myself a better chance than this. Looking around the ground, I spotted a loose chunk of concrete. My fingers shook as I stooped slowly to pick it up. As I returned to standing, I looked for a good spot a few more feet back behind my father.

I'd never been much of a sports person, but I aimed and chucked the thing as hard as I could, hoping like hell it went farther than two feet in front of me. A loud tumble echoed where it landed, and my father's attention was momentarily pulled away.

Now, Parker. Go now!

I hurried around the corner, heading for Lev, and tried to stay as quiet as I could with each step. Lev's eyes flared when they landed on me, and I was closing the distance between us. He was just past the open door. Just a few more steps, and I'd be there.

My foot hit a piece of broken glass, invisible on the ground thanks to the shitty lighting, and it crunched. Shit!

I gave the run everything I could, no longer caring about how quiet I was. I was inches from the threshold.

"Parker." Lev's voice was quiet but desperate as he tried to dash toward me.

And then a set of hands grabbed each of my arms, hauling me backward. I landed hard against the person behind me, smashing into their chest, and a familiar smell entered my nose—alcohol and cheap cologne.

No.

"Now, now. Where do you think you're going, little bitch?"