Page 33 of Dirty Tricks

I run over, staring at it from below. At three metres above the ground, there’s no way I can climb the smooth wall to reach it. Even if I could, the narrow ledge looks perilous. I could easily make a misstep and plunge straight to the ground.

You don’t even know she’s in there. Don’t do something foolish. Your mother’s counting on you.

But my mother’s free from imminent danger. Until I know Lexa is as well, she takes priority.

I should never have left her.

What was I thinking?

I run around the perimeter, staring upwards, trying to create a plan with a brain stuck in a hamster wheel—running at the speed of light and getting nowhere.

I need a ladder.

There isn’t one here.

It’s not something I can MacGyver together from the contents of my car.

Inside. I should go inside and start asking again. This time ask if anyone’s seen her. She might have gone home. She might be waiting safely in her bed.

The dull beat of doom pounding inside my head doesn’t think that’s likely.

The roof. I see a trellis leading to the roof. From there, it’s a metre and a half drop to the ledge.

Along with my stepfather and the chainsaw, I bundled a tarpaulin and a length of rope into the car.

I run, not allowing time to second guess myself. With a quick glance that no one’s nearby, I open the boot, pawing past the dead weight of the body and grabbing what I need. After a second’s hesitation, I sling the chainsaw over my back, tightening the harness strap to keep it steady.

Over my other shoulder, I toss the rope and run back to the trellis, grabbing at the decaying wood and sending up a prayer.

CHAPTERTEN

LEXA

My head blanks with panic,distress choking me. I bare my teeth at Finn, but it just makes his grin wider. The few others I can see are glued to him, watching his every move, waiting for direction. Someone behind me gives a mocking snort. Another clangs the chains dangling from the walls.

He stands back, making sure I’m watching as he pats the bulge from his jacket pocket. His voice rises and falls in a sing-song manner that sets my teeth on edge. “Once we’ve all had a turn or two with you, how about I leave you here with the gun? By that stage you’ll be better off with a bullet in your head.”

The taunt sends a river of panic twisting and turning through me. It’s exhausting, rampaging through my body, setting every cell of me to high alert when there’s not a damn thing I can do to help myself.

Tears roll down my cheeks, an impulsive attempt to gain sympathy, which backfires. “Oh, are you upset, dear?” Finn says, mocking me. “Should we go back to the bar area and fetch a couple of your friends?”

The threat makes my insides curl. I wonder if I hadn’t turned up at Kingswood when I did if it would be Jenna trapped inside this contraption instead of me.

Except she’s too smart for that. Far smarter than you.

His snort of laughter is echoed amongst his friends. If they are friends. More like hangers-on who enjoy riding coattails, too stupid to think of their own pleasures so they indulge in the ones Finn provides.

I flinch and give a squeal as someone touches my leg. Rather than dissuading the roaming fingers, the hand moves higher, sliding between my thighs as the fabric of my skirt drags against my legs.

“Let me go,” I beg, my voice hitching as sobs catch me off guard, tears still pouring forth though they’ve already proved their uselessness. “Please, Finn. I won’t tell anybody.”

“I don’t care if you tell anyone or not.” He crouches in front of me again, staring into my eyes, catching a falling tear with his thumb.

His eyes are dead. Soulless. He doesn’t have empathy any more than he has a conscience.

The only person who matters in Finn’s world is Finn.

I close my eyes, then open them, scanning the edges of my peripheral vision, hoping to see someone I can appeal to. Someone with a better nature who might break the spell of his command for long enough to get me the fuck out of this situation.

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