Page 8 of Twisted Devil

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHLOE

My fingers ached and sweat dripped into my eyes, but I didn't dare stop. I wasn't sure how long ago the man had left. Hours, probably. I was exhausted, but I refused to sleep.

I had finally gotten the bottom pin removed. All that was left now standing between me and freedom was the middle pin. And whatever lay beyond this room. But I couldn't think about that now. All I could focus on was doing one thing at a time. I needed to get out of here, away from my captor and whatever horrible fate he had in store for me.

Wedging the tip of the mortar between the top of the pin and the hinge, I began to wiggle it. Just like the other two pins, the process was slow and grueling. Millimeter by millimeter it began to lift. I worked at it with my sore, bloodied fingers until it was almost free of the hole.

My heart leapt with excitement as it teetered there in the hinge, just millimeters of cool metal separating me from freedom. Not a full second later, a sound beyond the room stopped me cold.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Oh, God. He was back. My breath sawed in and out of my lungs as his tread moved closer and closer. I fought the urge to hyperventilate as my pulse kicked up. I had to stay strong; I had to get out of here. After he came in last time, I knew I didn't have a choice—next time he would rape me or worse.

I clutched the mortar as tightly as I could with my damaged fingers and stood off to the side. The sound of the lock disengaging seemed magnified in the empty room, and I watched in a sort of slow motion as the door swung inward. With only the middle pin barely holding it up, the door wobbled in its frame.

“What the…?”

I took advantage of the man's surprise and shoved the door toward him as hard as possible. The remaining pin popped out of its place, dislodging the door. The heavy slab of steel toppled from its frame, and the man let out a terse curse as it smashed into him.

I didn't waste another second. I bolted through the opening, following the dim light beyond to a narrow set of stone steps that led up to what I assumed was the house. Ignoring the man swearing a blue streak behind me, I sprinted up the stairs as fast as my feet could carry me.

I paused only briefly on the landing, casting a quick look around. It took a second for my eyes to register what they were seeing. Huge wooden beams stretched high overhead, and a labyrinth of wooden stalls lay in front of me. I was wrong; it wasn’t a house. It was a barn.

The man's footsteps pounded on the stairs behind me, and I knew I didn't have much time. I darted forward, frantically searching for a door. Where the hell was it? The light was dim inside the huge barn, and everything seemed to be made of wood. I couldn’t differentiate one wall from another. I spun in place, looking for any avenue of escape. My eyes connected with a ray of sunlight spilling in through a dusty window, and I lunged toward it.

As I neared it, I realized the window was located inside an old stall. I threw the rickety door wide in my haste to get to it, and my feet slipped on the hay-covered floor as I rounded the corner. Pain radiated upward through my body as my hip slammed into the post, but I shoved it down and scrambled to right myself.

Spying an old bucket lying on the ground I scooped it up, then swung as hard as I could, aiming for the window. It sailed through the delicate glass, and the window shattered with a satisfying crash. The bucket made a loud clang as it landed on the grass below amidst the shards of glass just as a loud growl sounded behind me. I placed my hands on the windowsill, ignoring the bite of pain as the glass cut into my palms. The man's fingers grabbed at me, but I evaded his grasp and launched myself through the opening.

Agony ripped through me as I landed sideways on the hard ground, but I forced myself to keep going. Dredging up every ounce of will I possessed, I staggered to my feet and ran as fast as I could. I dared a single glance behind me just in time to see the man's angry face outlined in the window. It was a mistake. I never should have looked behind me. Because in the next second, a pair of strong arms wrapped around me, stealing my breath and stopping my heart.

CHAPTER NINE

JASON

Chloe's tiny body slammed into me, and I let out a small oomph of surprise as I wrapped my arms around her to steady us both. A shrill scream rent the air, and Chloe exploded into action. Her arms and legs swung wildly, jerky with terror.

“Chloe.” I immediately released her, but stayed close. “I’m here to help you, Chloe. I’m with the FBI.”

Her arms continued to windmill in my direction, desperately trying to fend me off. She stumbled sideways under the force of her movements, and I shot out one hand to catch her. “You're okay. You’re safe, Chloe.”

I kept talking to her, kept using her name over and over, hoping it would eventually break through her haze of fear. “I'm not going to hurt you, I promise.”

In my peripheral vision, I was dimly aware of my other team members circling the house and barn, trapping the man inside. They would take care of him. Right now, Chloe was my main priority. If I hadn't known Wainwright was responsible the second we pulled into the driveway of the rundown old house, the shattering of glass from the ancient barn was a dead giveaway. Watching Chloe tumble through the broken window had nearly stopped my heart.

She was almost completely naked, her slender body clad only in a bra and underwear. Her skin was filthy, and streaks of blood covered her arms and legs. I couldn’t begin to decipher how badly she was injured.

All of a sudden, her movement stopped. As if she’d just exerted every ounce of energy, she crumpled to the ground in a heap. I dropped to a knee next to her, speaking in a low voice as I did so. “You're safe now,” I assured her. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Her arms covered her face and head as she curled into herself on the dewy grass, and her body trembled violently. “Chloe, do you remember me? My name is Jason. We met at the coffee shop a few days ago. I—”

Before I could blink, she launched herself into me, her arms wrapping around my neck like a vise. Her sobs filled the air, her erratic breathing leaving her mouth in great, gasping pants next to my ear. I pulled her to me, holding her tight as protectiveness washed over me.

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