Nicole

 

I felt like I’d been sitting for hours, but I had no way of knowing how much time was passing. In some ways, it was almost worse than the car. At least there I had sounds and the movement of the car to give me some indication of the world beyond my blindfold. But here, I just sat. All I felt was the heat of the room, the bindings wrapped around my wrists and ankles, digging in until I felt raw, and the still sting of my cheek. I could hear movement coming from overhead and what sounded like muffled speaking, but none of it was anywhere near me. I assumed the guard was still near me, because he hadn’t made any sounds to indicate that he’d left since taking his seat—and I hadn’t wanted to tempt him again after his earlier threat.

 

Sitting there was driving me crazy. How could I not panic, knowing I’d been kidnapped by a bunch of cutthroats? How was I supposed to be calm? My leg was trying to bounce in nervousness, but it was tied too tightly and I just ended up rubbing my skin against the ropes and the wood leg it was tied to. I tried to keep my heart from pounding rapidly in my chest to the point where it was practically painful, but that also was in vain.

 

Waiting will be the death of me, I thought, and it was an ironic thought. I almost laughed at my own stupidity—these men would be the death of me, not the waiting—until I realized I was right.

 

Waiting would be the death of me.

 

If I just sat here, waiting for them to decide it was time to shoot me, I was dead. The only way for me to get out of here was to get myself out. I couldn’t count on Maxwell; I didn’t even know if he was coming. And no one else even knew I was missing. This was all on my shoulders now and if I didn’t try something soon, I was dead.

 

I frowned. I needed some sort of plan. At least working through ideas helped keep me focused enough that I didn’t feel like I was about to break down and have a panic attack.

 

Well, first I need to see, I thought dryly. Trying to get free would be impossible if I couldn’t get the blindfold taken off. I had asked my guard earlier about it, but he’d just told me to shut up, so I doubted he’d be much help.

 

So, I needed to get the blindfold off and to get untied. I doubted the guard would just sit there and let me do all of that, patiently waiting until I was free to give chase, so I needed a plan. Something to distract him long enough that he wouldn’t notice me getting free.

 

I pursed my lips together in a thin line, imagining the way my expression might look. Distracting him wasn’t a very plausible idea. I was tied to a chair and thus no threat, and I didn’t think I’d been here for long enough to get away with asking for water or anything.

 

And then it hit me. Water I could do without for a while, even if I was thirsty. But peeing however…Everyone had to use the bathroom and it was a really hard thing to wait on. And if you didn’t take care of that particular need, well, it could become a real mess. Letting me use the bathroom would mean he’d have to undo my bindings and remove the blind. I’d finally get a chance to make a break for it.

 

I didn’t let myself wonder what I’d do after I was free, because I wasn’t really sure. What if all the rooms were locked? All the outside doors somehow bolted from the outside? Or worse, men with machine guns waiting just past the door?

 

“Um, hello?” I asked quickly before I could let myself be talked out of it. My voice resounded in what felt like an empty room, leaving me suddenly paranoid that the guard was gone altogether. “Are you still there?”

 

“Didn’t I already explain the shutting up part of this activity?” he grunted, but even though he was an ass, I was relieved he was still there.

 

“I know,” I said, trying to sound timid and afraid—not hard, considering I was terrified. “I just…um, well, I need to use the bathroom. Please?”

 

I heard the man sigh. He cursed under his breath and for a long moment he didn’t say anything else. I was worried suddenly that he wouldn’t care that I needed a bathroom and he would just let me go right here where I sat. It was a terrible thought. And what if I couldn’t pee? I didn’t really need to go. Would he know it was all just a trick?

 

Finally, I heard him move. The chair scraped the floor again and his feet, heavy in what sounded like boots, clomped along that same floor. Relief flooded me.

 

This will work.

 

He came over to me and I felt him work at my bindings. “I don’t want any shit from you, you understand? Goddamned babysitting job and everyone needs me to watch the fucking prisoner. Like I don’t have better things to do.”

 

He kept muttering to himself as one leg, then the other, became free, then finally both of my hands. Instantly, I rubbed at the wrists, trying to ease the rawness of the skin there.

 

I opened my mouth to say thank you, but before I could, I felt cold metal touch my bottom lip. I froze.

 

“I’m telling you this once: don’t try anything funny. This is a gun I’ve got shoved in your mouth, and if I need to, I’ll make you eat a bullet. Don’t try me.”

 

I was so terrified that I felt tears prick my eyes again, but I did my best to hold them back. At least he hadn’t removed the blindfold yet, so he couldn’t see the fear in my eyes. I was sure he could guess, but I didn’t want him to know.

 

His hands found my arms and jerked me up out of the chair. I stumbled a little, subconsciously reaching for him without thinking to stabilize myself. As soon as I realized I was holding on to him, I jerked away, nearly losing my balance all over again as I backed into the chair I’d just been tied to.

 

He snorted. “Not too graceful, are you? And here I thought you were a dancer.”

 

I didn’t like the way he said “dancer.” My mother had been a show girl and a lot of people just called her dancer, which was synonymous with stripper. I didn’t like the idea that he took the time to examine me and came to that conclusion. My hackles raised, I bit back the retort that was sitting on the tip of my tongue. It took all I had, but I reminded myself this was probably my only chance for escape.

 

Ever.

 

“C’mon,” he said, jerking me forward. “Bathroom’s this way.”

 

I stumbled a little, finding myself grateful for his guiding hand despite myself. We walked several paces before coming to a halt. I heard a door open, then he shoved me. I put my hands out in front of me to catch myself and maybe my balance, too, before I fell, and found myself catching what felt like cloth shower curtains. Almost falling right through them, I just managed to catch myself and straighten before tumbling into what I presumed was the tub. The man laughed behind me, short and cruel.

 

“Make it quick, sweetheart, I ain’t got a lot of time.” Then the door closed.

 

I wondered what he meant about time, but didn’t linger on it. I didn’t have much time, either. Finally yanking off my blindfold, I squinted against the sudden light. After giving my eyes a moment to adjust, I was able to start making out the bathroom.

 

Tiled floor and walls. A large, rounded bathtub and a sink that was shaped like half a shellfish. They had a nautical theme going on, but everything was in that peachy-salmon-rose color and it made me want to gag a little bit.

 

I turned around, searching for a way to escape. There was the door I came from. I was grateful that it was closed and that the man, the cabbie who was not a cabbie, was on the other side of it, rather than in here with me. Which I wouldn’t have put past these guys at this point. Turning, I saw a large mirror, oval and lined with intricately and perfectly placed seashells of all sizes and varieties, and caught a glimpse of myself. I looked a little worse for wear, but not bad. My shirt and jeans were plain enough that nothing really looked rumpled, and while my hair was a little wild, it wasn’t poofed up like some frizz ball or something equally as terrifying. My face looked off, though. Mascara was running a little and my cheeks were flushed, splotchy from crying. And my eyes were rimmed in red.

 

Not that any of that mattered. It wasn’t what I was looking for. Not even a little bit.

 

My eyes kept traveling until I came to the shower curtain, the one I’d grabbed on to in an effort to catch myself. Maybe I can hide? It sounded absolutely ridiculous, but I was desperate. I didn’t have a lot of time until that guy decided I wasn’t in need of a bathroom break at all, at which point he’d barge in here and I’d be in real trouble. The hurtful kind of trouble.

 

Jerking the curtains aside, I found a window was on the other side of the tub. Relief surged through me. It was small and shaped like a half circle, like the kind that was usually above the front door of fancy houses, but I was confident I could fit through it. Assuming it opened.

 

Stepping into the tub, I tried the window. It gave easily, though I winced as I heard the squeak it made. I paused, listening for the guy outside, but when he made no sounds in response, I pushed the window open farther. When it was open wide enough, I stepped onto the lip of the tub and stuck my head out the window, preparing to hoist up the rest of me and climb out.

 

Until I saw the ground.

 

I pulled my head out quickly, got off the lip of the tub, and let the window close with a soft thud. I was at least three stories high. I thought I’d been on the first floor. For all I knew, they’d carried me up several flights of stairs before tying me up. Either way, there wasn’t a chance in hell that I was going to be able to climb out that window and then drop down to the ground without getting seriously injured. Or flat out killing myself.

 

No, the window as definitely a bust.

 

I felt panic start to rise again. This was it, my only chance, and it was hopeless. Hopeless until I saw a second door. I was about to go to it when I saw a shadow outside the door move.

 

“The fuck’s taking so long?”

 

Acting quickly, I went to the faucet and turned it on, not full speed but enough that it sounded convincing. Then I flushed the toilet. “Sorry, I can’t do it in the quiet!” I called out to him, hoping that he believed me.

 

I heard what sounded like a muttered curse. “Just hurry the fuck up already.”

 

I didn’t answer him. Instead, I steeled myself, taking a deep breath, and finally took a risk. Locking the door where the guard was, I finally made a break for it. I jerked open the second door to find that it opened up into a second room. It was huge with a four-poster bed and a large vanity and dark wood chest of drawers that seemed to take up half of the considerably large wall on one side.

 

And the best part about it was, it was empty.

 

I didn’t bother closing or fussing with the door I just came through; it didn’t lock from my side anyway. I did, however, hurry to the main door to the master bedroom that I found myself in and shut it quickly, locking it. Probably, it wouldn’t hold for long. I was sure they had keys to these doors, and if not, they could shoot them or kick them down or something equally as violent.

 

Which meant I had to move fast. I saw one of those floor-to-ceiling sets of glass doors on the other side of the bed and made a mad dash for it. I shoved the doors open and found myself on a balcony. I was still three stories up, but I noticed a trellis with growing ivy covering it reaching up on one side. There was no guarantee how sturdy it was, but I had to take a risk. I’d come this far and there wasn’t time to chicken out now. I had to do this. I had to do this now.

 

Screwing up my courage, I slung first one, then the other leg over the banister, gripping it desperately for balance. Shuffling my feet along the barely-there rim, I scooched over until I reached the trellis. It was difficult with all the growing ivy, but I managed to find hand holds and foot holds alike. Slowly, I began my descent.

 

Don’t fall, please don’t fall, I thought to myself.

 

I did my absolute best not to look down, terrified that if I did, I’d fall quickly, and I had a feeling I’d survive that fall only to get shot in the face once they found me. And they would find me if I lay there injured. Focusing, I put all my energy into the climb down, praying that, for once, things would go my way.

 

I was down all three stories in less than five minutes. When I plopped down onto the lush, green grass, I heard it. A shout.

 

I didn’t waste time looking to see who had shouted or where it had come from or whether it was about me or not. I took off running as fast as I could, hoping that somehow I’d managed to save myself.