Page 49 of Suspicion

She had to get away. There was no choice.

Staying with Tucker was going to kill her.

Ella might not be the sharpest tool in the shed. She confessed to leading an indulged and luxurious life, but she was bright enough to know where this would end if she supplicated.

“Is this a ploy for me to untie you again?” His tone was knowing, sending anxiety rampaging around her body. “Because I need to be able to trust you, little girl, and after last night, I don’t.”

Had she not been so despairing, she might have snorted at his comment. The idea that Tucker—the man who’d agreed to take her as his hostage—was suspicious of her was preposterous. If anyone should have mistrust in the dynamic, it was her, not him.

“So, I lose the feeling in them altogether?” So much for contrived deference. Her voice dripped with disdain as she lifted her face to meet his stare. “Is that the plan, sir?” She added the final word as an insurance policy. He was more likely to overlook her tone if she played along with his absurd game. “Because what good will I be to you then?” Her breaths sped up as she considered how she’d cope if he didn’t release her. “How good is your warranty if I’m injured or disabled?”

“You’re being over dramatic.” His reply sounded unimpressed. “Probably because you’re exhausted. Let’s get you back inside and rested.”

“No!” She shook her head, burying her nails in the dirt. “I’m going to be sick again.”

“So, be sick.” He threw his hands out to his sides as though he was close to giving up. “I said that already.”

“Can I have a drink of water, please, sir?” It was her last-ditch attempt at distraction, and that’s what she needed to escape. With Tucker’s attention on her solely, she’d never get away. “My throat feels like sandpaper.”

The reality was that she would have loved a cold drink to soothe her throat—despite her most recent associations with Tucker and cups of water—but she’d go without if it meant sending Tucker in the other direction and enabling her to flee when his back was turned.

“Really?” He eyed her skeptically, presumably torn between her totally reasonable request and his patent distrust. Ella had already run once, and she was manifestly unhappy. No doubt, he realized that the chances of her fleeing again were high.

“Pl-please.” Her voice was hoarse as she spluttered the word into the ground. Her only hope was convincing him that she was so ill that she wouldn’t contemplate making a break for it. “It would help me a lot.”

“I’m not leaving you here untended.” His attention slid from her to the cabin. The tap was less than a minute from where she’d collapsed, but they both knew he’d have to go inside to find a cup for her to drink from. “If you want water, you’ll have to play by my rules.”

She rolled her eyes at the verdict, ignoring the stabbing pain in her stomach as her gaze drilled into the dirt. What a surprise. So far, it had been Tucker’s rules or no way at all.

“Okay.” What choice was there but to play along again? She didn’t know what his latest requirements would be, but saying yes was the only opportunity for escape.

“You’ll have to stand.” He thrust out a palm toward her. “Can you manage that?”

“I’ll try.” Lifting her hand, she placed it on his large palm and allowed him to take her weight as she struggled to her feet. The world spun faster around her as she pulled in deep breaths.

“That’s good.” His voice was almost soothing as he steered her back toward the tree trunk. “I’ll need your arms in the air.”

Arms in the air? Her brow furrowed as he guided her hands up and over her head. What the hell was he doing—robbing her?

“How are you feeling?” He stretched her arms until her biceps skimmed her ears. Unsure what was happening, she risked a glance at her hands to find the ropes still binding them slid over the top of one of the tree’s low branches. Tucker had effectively used the branch to immobilize her.

Fuck. Dread curled in her chest as she realized she was once again restrained. He’d found a way to hold her while he went to retrieve the water.

“Little girl?” His curt tone drew her focus back to his face. His blue eyes bored into her, searching for any sign that she might vomit again. “How do you feel?”

“Dazed.”

It was the most honest thing she’d said since she’d crawled her way to the fresh air. The weight of everything that had transpired seemed piled on her shoulders. It might have compelled her to her knees had the branch not supported her weight.

“Yeah.” His lips twitched. “You look it.”

Great. She suppressed the urge to counter his retort with one of her own. It would do her no good.

Instead, she forced her gaze back to the offending bough and took a moment to assess it properly. The branch wasn’t as big or sturdy as she initially thought. Perhaps Tucker had been fooled into thinking she was weaker than she really was, or maybe she was the fool? Maybe if she tried to drag the ropes to the end of the twig, she’d simply fall on her face?

No. She clenched her teeth. That won’t happen. I can do it! I’ll haul the ropes free from the end of the branch and get away. If I’m lucky, the branch might even weaken the fibers of the rope.

“That should hold you.” His chuckle reverberated along her spine as though it was set on mocking her. He didn’t seem to know what she was thinking. Either she was a better actress than she’d realized, or he was getting complacent. “I’ll go and get you water.” His hand rose to her chin and steadied her gaze as he went on. “After that, we’ll head back to the cabin.”