Page 38 of Broken Empire
“They wouldn’t believe that,” she said. “I have a stun gun in my pocket and a syringe filled with sedatives. My boss has always told me to use either one of them if a client starts to get aggressive with me.”
“I’m not a client. I’m a prisoner, and they’re going to kill me soon,” I said, still holding onto her arm. “Please, you have to help me. There must be some way.”
“There isn’t! You have to understand… I have a family to support,” she replied, wiping her eyes with her free hand. “My husband is sick, and his medical costs are through the roof. Do you know how much hairdressers are paid at the average salon?”
“I’m guessing it’s not enough.”
“That’s right. It’s not nearly enough. This job is the only way I can afford all those medical bills.”
I swallowed hard. “I have money, Freya. My boyfriend does too. He comes from a family of literal billionaires. So if you help me out of here, we’ll both make sure you’re compensated. You’ll never have to worry about your bills again.”
“You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that from people,” she murmured, averting her eyes again.
“I mean it. I’m not just saying this stuff so you’ll help me,” I said. “I have money, and I’ll give you as much as you want or need if you help me out of here. I can help you stay safe as well, if you’re worried about someone coming after you and your family for helping me.”
She was silent for a moment. Then she lifted her gaze to meet mine in the mirror. “Let me think about it, okay?” she said softly. “I… I need to figure out a few things first.”
My brows shot up, and I dropped her arm. “You’re going to help me?”
She let out a deep sigh and rubbed the side of her head. “I can try, okay? But that’s the best I can offer.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I have no idea, so stop talking and let me think about it for a while,” she said, knitting her brows. “They’ll never believe that you overpowered me, so I’ll have to come up with something else. Something believable.”
“Okay. I’ll be quiet,” I said, pulse racing with anticipation.
I let Freya work on my hair in silence for the next twenty minutes. When it was time to remove the foils and wash the bleach away, she leaned in close to my left ear. “I think I might have an idea,” she whispered. “They aren’t coming to get you for another four hours, so we have a bit of time. I’ll just need to leave for a while after your hair is done so I can get some stuff to make my story look convincing.”
“What stuff?”
“A knife. We can make it look like one of the handlers accidentally left it behind yesterday, and I can say you hid it under the bed and threatened me with it when I tried to leave after I finished your hair,” she replied. “I’ll tell them I wasn’t able to get close enough with the syringe or the stun gun because you kept waving the knife at me. I’ll also say that I wasn’t expecting it because you were so sweet and docile the whole time I was working on your hair. So I never saw it coming. That’s how you were able to overpower me so suddenly and easily.”
I nodded. “That makes sense.”
Freya’s forehead creased, and she rubbed her chin. “You’ll really have to hurry once you’re out. It’s the middle of the day, so this place is crawling with people. If you don’t make it to the elevator in time, I can’t help you.”
“I’ll make it,” I said, gritting my teeth.
“I hope so,” she replied. “If you don’t…”
She trailed off, letting the ominous words linger in the air.
“I’ll be fine,” I said, heart soaring at the thought of freedom. “Thank you so much, Freya. I promise, the second we’re out of here, I’ll get you anything you want.”
“I really hope you’re not lying,” she muttered, drawing back to remove the last foil from my head.
“I’m not. I swear. Give me your phone number so I can memorize it.”
She rattled off a series of numbers to me. I committed them to memory by silently chanting them in my head as Freya washed and blow-dried my newly-blonde hair before styling it into loose curls.
“Perfect,” she finally said, giving me a small smile as she stepped back.
“Will you go and get the knife now?”
She glanced at her watch. “Yes. In a minute.”
Before I could ask why she wasn’t leaving right away, someone rapped on the door to my suite. “Are you done?” a man called out.
