Page 38 of The Professor
I was panting, fighting to catch my breath. I said nothing, just stared at his flushed cheeks and wide pupils.
He’d enjoyed teasing me and having me captive; that much was obvious.
After a few minutes he stepped out of the room.
I had a proper look around and tried to avoid letting my focus land on the gun on the table. Though in truth, if I could escape this chair and grab it, I would get the hell out of this safe house, or brothel or whatever the heck it was.
He came back in with a glass of water. He took a slug then held it to my mouth. I gulped, some spilling down my cheek and landing on my t-shirt, wetting over my nipples.
“I need to pee.”
“What?” he said.
“You heard me, I need to pee. Where’s the bathroom?”
He muttered something then stooped behind me. The ropes loosened, and I freed my hands, rubbing my red wrists.
He did the same with my ankles, and I stood, my skirt falling back into place. My thighs were tacky from being so aroused.
“This way.” He locked his fingers with mine and hauled me from the room. We came to a stop third door on the right, next to some stairs, and he pulled it open. “Be quick. I’ll wait here.”
“It’ll take as long as it takes.” I tipped my chin, stepped in, and flicked the lock.
“Leave it unlocked, goddamn it.”
I ignored him. There was a small window above the cistern. Figuring it was just about big enough for me to shimmy out of, I dropped the toilet lid and climbed up.
“Chelsea, unlock the door.”
“I can’t now. I’m peeing.”
He made a grunting sound.
I opened the window. Dusk was arriving now, the sky lilac and pink. After tucking my hair behind my ears, I hauled myself upward. It took a bit of wriggling, but soon I was dangling from the other side, contemplating the five-feet drop.
My landing was a bit awkward, my feet slapping onto some dry earth, but nothing was sprained or broken.
After glancing left and right to get my bearings, I headed around the side of the house, back toward where Big Brute had grabbed me. My heart was thudding, my adrenaline spiking. Soon I would be out of here.
But I didn’t get far.
“You fucking little brat.”
For the second time I was snatched by big arms. This time it was Andrew, and he wasted not a second before he threw me over his shoulder and slapped his hand on my ass.
“What the…? Get off me.” My world turned upside down, and I grasped his belt for stability.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snapped, striding back into the house.
“Escaping from you and your lunatic friends,” I shouted and kicked. “Let me go, you’ll all do years for this, I tell you, years, my dad will get the best lawyers.”
“I really don’t think you understand who’s in charge here.” He marched me past what seemed to be a woman and three of his men—all I could see was his legs and the floor. “But it’s time you learned that lesson, here and now.”
Chapter Ten
Andrew
I was goddamn furious with her. She’d nearly ruined the entire plan to get my mates out of a cell and get help for the coke-hooked women we’d save from Ranson. Slippery little minx, scooting out of the bathroom window like that, a tiny one, too. If I hadn’t heard the thud of her landing outside and the squeak of shock she’d have gotten away.
