Page 87 of Riff

Fighting against my instinct to duck right away, I waited until he was too close to change his movement, then lowered down under his arm, twisting around, my footing awkward and unsteady against the mattress as it depressed under each step.

My wrist was grabbed, and the instinct to simply yank it back only made pain shoot through my shoulder.

No.

I couldn’t use my instincts.

I had to use my training.

My abductor yanked me forward toward him, the only thing keeping me from colliding with his chest being the way the mattress was swallowing my feet.

He had my left wrist, leaving me with my dominant hand to work with.

So I struck out, aiming high, catching him across the throat.

The shock of losing his breath, the strangling sensation that was overtaking him, had him releasing my wrist, letting me stumble back just out of reach.

But as I took another step back, something on the floor caught my foot, making me stumble, then start to fall, my stomach bottoming out as I crashed to the ground.

The metal collided with my ass, painful enough to steal my breath for a moment.

That was the least of my concerns as my attacker made sick, wet sounds while he tried to breathe but he was still coming for me.

Like he knew I was close to getting away. That I was so, so close to the door.

“Get her, Marshall,” the driver said.

Marshall.

After all of this time, I finally had a name.

I must have been distracted by that information, though. Just for a second. But that was all he needed.

He bent before I could anticipate his actions, grabbing both of my ankles, and pulling hard enough to force me to fall flat.

Only my reflexes had me tucking my chin to my chest to keep my skull from whacking into the cold, hard floor.

I yanked a foot free, using it to strike out.

His thigh, his knee.

Distracting him enough to drop my other leg, giving me another way to strike out.

My hands went around, feeling for anything on the floor.

It wasn’t long until I felt something hard to my side, maybe what I’d tripped over initially.

I grabbed at it, feeling it cold and firm.

Marshall had managed to grab my legs, though, spreading them wide as he came down to his knees between.

Panic surged, and I fought it back, reminding myself that it was different this time.

I had on layers.

It would be a fight to get them off of me.

It was okay. I had time.

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