Page 57 of Out of Control

“The hell you will.”

“You’re secured to a fucking chair,” he taunted, moving around us until he was in front of me. He leaned forward so he was right in my goddamn face. “You think I can’t tell you’re about four seconds away from passing out? You can’t stop me.”

I used every bit of strength I had to jerk my body forward, bending at the waist as fast and hard as I could. The sudden tension ripped the tape along the back of the chair—something I wouldn’t have been able to do if my hands were still secured around it—and I headbutted him dead in the face. I used the seconds his surprise and disorientation gave me to jerk my body back and forth until the tape loosened from my arms and I could rip the rest of it off my chest.

Lombardi recovered quickly enough and got back up on his knees, lunging toward me. I swung my right wrist out, not even waiting for him to get close enough for a punch, and let the dangling handcuff swing out to whip him across the face. He staggered backwards again with a hand on his bleeding cheek, giving me a chance to get my legs free—impossible while my torso was taped to the chair, but easy as hell now that I had the ability to move.

Escape artists didn’t actually have to do much to get out. You just had to figure out what order to work in, solving one problem at a time.

But I was ill and in pain. I didn’t have much strength left in my body, so after I freed myself I landed in a heap on the floor. I rolled over to face Athena, still struggling against the tape acrossher chest. She was strong and determined, but she didn’t have the knowledge. All I had to do was teach her how to free herself before Leo Lombardi took me out of the equation.

As the first kick bashed against my kidney, I knew that would be easier said than done.

twenty-four

Athena

Lucas was struggling, that much was obvious. I didn’t know how he stayed conscious for as long as he did. Even though he was free, he was still in danger, and Lombardi was about to aim a second kick at him.

I met Lucas’s eyes, studied his face, but the arrogant little ass just winked at me from the dirty ground.

This was not a funny situation. I would not laugh at the silly grin he gave me, especially when the grin was interrupted by a cough, the second kick landing somewhere along his spine.

“Ready to get out of there, baby?” he asked, voice strained.

“Absolutely. Wanna tell me how you did it?” I asked, trying to keep my cool. If he wanted to pretend he wasn’t getting his ass kicked I’d go along with it. I was ready to do some serious ass kicking of my own. Lombardi was rounding Lucas’s body, and leaned forward to throw a punch at his face. Luke dodged the worst of it by rolling over again, but still spat out a bit of blood before he could speak properly.

“It’s easy. I bet you can get it on the first try.” Another kick landed in his stomach, but he absorbed most of it by curling further into a ball. Sometimes you couldn’t be on the offensive, and defensive moves had to do. “Push your chest out as far as possible. Widen your shoulders. You want to a big frame.”

I did as he said, imagining a large grizzly. Ignoring the pained grunt he let out when Leo Lombardi kicked him a fourth time, shouting at him to shut up, I waited for him to recover and give me the next set of directions.

“Once the tension is as tight as possible use one quick motion. Throw the whole weight of your body forward, bending at the waist. If you don’t bend you’ll just topple, so work those abs, baby, and just do it. The tape’ll rip right in half, just like ripping a small piece of tape off the roll.”

Shit, Lombardi was getting impatient. His hand was twitching toward the gun at his waist. I could imagine what he was thinking: was it worth it to try and get the information out of us, or should he just start shooting before I got free, too?

I met Lucas’s eyes and knew he saw the same thing I did. Lombardi would make a decision in the split second I acted, so we had to be ready for it, no matter what it was.

I made a half-hearted attempt to lean forward and break the tape, knowing it wasn’t enough strength to make anything thicker than a strand of hair rip.

“Damn, too weak?” Leo taunted, turning his attention to me, arms crossed over his chest and hand away from the gun again.

“It’s alright, baby, try again,” Lucas said, nodding at me. I “tried” a second time, using this attempt to feel for how much strength I’d need when I was actually ready to make an attempt.

“Bitch thinks she’s all that, but you’re just as weak as the rest of them. And just as stupid, too, thinking you could save your little boyfriend even if you did make it out of that chair.”

I seethed, but focused on Lucas instead of responding.

“You’ll get it,” he promised. “And once you do, put tension on your ankles, just like with the chest. Widen your stance and point your toes out, then squat down to force the tape on your legs to split. It’ll work.”

Lucas was lying on the ground about four feet away from me, curled in a ball and breathing unsteadily. He was in a car crash without a seat belt hours ago. His head smashed against the windshield hard enough to crack it. His chest hit the steering wheel with who knew how much force? And yet he was still alive, still awake, still coherent enough to free himself and give me directions so I could fight my way out of there as well.

But he wouldn’t stay awake much longer. I could see the pain and disorientation eating at him, each hit and kick knocking him farther away from the waking world. And if he had broken ribs from the accident one carefully placed kick from Lombardi could puncture a lung.

Lucas was counting on me to listen to him and get out of my bindings. He was literally taking the hits for the team so I could get free, giving up any possibility of control so I had the opportunity to finish the job for the both of us. If I hesitated or failed on the first try, Lombardi would have the upper hand and kill one or both of us immediately.

I could do it.

I would do it.

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