Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Close by, a footstep crunched. She immediately tensed, her arms wrapping around her knees, her face hidden behind her forearms. A man eased into the doorway, his head sweeping left to right, examining the small cell, and returned to her. She peeked out at him, and he lifted a finger, telling her to stay quiet.
She smiled, the gesture hidden behind her knees. Idiot.
Twenty-Seven
THE RESCUED
Agent King peered at Claudia. “Name?”
She stayed quiet, picking incessantly at the sleeve of the long-sleeve shirt that someone had provided. Glancing around, her eyes picked up on all of the details. White walls. Cramped corners. A sterile scent that reeked of bleach. She’d kept her fingerprints to herself so far, pulling at the shirt sleeves and tucking her fists in them.
The other agent, a woman, leaned forward. She wore a name tag, one that said Marcantonio, though she’d told her to call her Gina—her tone the soothing sort typically reserved for toddlers. “Why did he shave your head?” She circled the edge of the table, peering at Claudia as if she was a window display. “None of the other women have shaved heads.”
Claudia lifted her chin and met the woman’s inquisitive stare. “Punishment.”
That, paired with an irritated look from the head agent, shut her up. The woman folded her arms across her chest in an irritated fashion that made Claudia like her a little more. She stole a glance at the woman’s watch and did the math. Fifty-four minutes had passed since she’d locked the blond in the box. Good thing she’d set the timer for an hour.
So far, in the half hour since they’d carefully brought her out of the cell, she’d been given a stack of Oreos and some water. She’d ignored half of their questions and given only short responses when she had responded. They hadn’t pushed. They seemed to have the opinion that being kept prisoner weakened an individual’s mental state. And maybe, in other camps and with other keepers, it did. But Robert Hawk was different. Under him, she had grown stronger—both mentally and physically. They were handling her with kid gloves when they should have brought out machetes.
She threw the first breadcrumb out. “How close are we to the warehouse?”
The agents exchanged a look, and the man responded. “About fifty feet.”
She bound her hands across her midsection and glanced toward the door in her best impression of a nervous woman. “We should move.”
The female agent got the hint, one she’d practically spray painted across the walls for them. “Why should we move?”
She didn’t respond, taking the moment to begin rocking, her chin tucked, eyes down.
“Miss.” He leaned forward, across the table, and when he reached a hand out toward her, she flinched as if she’d been shot. He retreated at the same time that the female agent advanced.
“Why do you want to be farther away from the warehouse?”
That was the thing about cops. Push them into the direction of a question, and then don’t answer the question? They’d swarm on that topic like piranhas.
She swallowed, then threw them a giant, juicy bone. “I saw her, wiring the explosives.” For theatrical fun, she took another fearful glance in the direction of the door, her rocking motion increasing in speed. “We should move further away.”
Three minutes. Three minutes, and then it’d all be over with.
BELL
The moon swayed with each of Dario’s steps. I gripped his neck and rested my head against his chest, listening to the solid beat of his heart. It didn’t feel real, being reunited with him, being out of that place. I squeezed his neck muscles, inhaled the scent of him, and curled tighter into his hold.
“We’re almost there. Just hold on.”
I could see the ambulance ahead of us, its lights reflecting against his shirt, the doors open. An EMT ran beside Dario, trying to assist him, but I wouldn’t let go of him, not until we got to the ambulance. They’d already prepped me for what would happen there: the removal of the knife. I was almost looking forward to it. The pain had dulled to a screaming throb, one that seemed to shriek with every step Dario took.
I squeezed his neck to get his attention. “Did they find the blonde? The one who took me?”
He looked down at me, and I watched his features harden. “Not yet. But don’t worry, they will. That place is surrounded and the FBI just showed up. They’ll get her, wherever she’s hiding.”
I nodded, my nerves bound tight. I watched the dark fields, the night enveloping us the moment we stepped away from the building. I needed them to find her. I needed her to be behind bars. I needed them to question her and find out what her motivations were, and why she was hell-bent on punishing us.
“Stop worrying. I’m here.” His voice was gruff and his body curved around me, his mouth pressing a kiss against my forehead. I closed my eyes, my hand tightening on his arm.