Page 71 of Last Chance Christmas
Her breath caught. Her mother’s game.
Almighty, Bread of Life, Creator. Deliverer. Emmanuel.
Della paused. Emmanuel. God with us.
Her heart lifted at a quiet voice inside.
You are not alone.
But she sure felt like it.
She’d been alone for a long time. She’d thrown herself into work, the foster parent process, volunteering, all trying to fill the darkness that plagued her. She’d turned down outings with coworkers and even acquaintances at church. She was much better at serving and teaching and working than connecting with others.
But nothing had shaken the shame of not being there for Lily. Lying on the stand. Call it survivor’s guilt or whatever. She’d lost her parents and best friend. Another loss would have destroyed her. It had seemed easier to do life on her own.
But look at where that had gotten her.
A picture of Anthony filled her thoughts, his blue eyes concerned, his dark hair messy from dragging his fingers through it. He had to be going out of his mind.
Too bad she hadn’t asked him out, gotten to know him sooner.
She hadn’t known him long, but over the last couple of days, she’d learned a few things about the handsome officer. Despite the clothes and the Casanova reputation, he wasn’t the kind of guy to sit back and do nothing. Even now, he was most likely searching for her. And then there were Penny and Bryce and the others. They were probably doing everything they could to find her.
Maybe there was reason to hope after all.
And it wasn’t only these friends.
She claimed she believed in God Almighty. And He was Emmanuel, God with her, right here. Right now.
She wasn’t alone.
All right, Lord, time to stop believing the lies. Remind me of the light of Your love. Fill me now. And lead Anthony and the others here. If not to rescue me, may they at least capture Vaynes before he can hurt anyone else. Please.
A wave of energy thrummed through her. No need to stay here scared and helpless. She needed to use this time to free herself, to help them find her. If there was a way to send up a signal to them…
Della peered into the shadowed corners and studied the room. The longer she did, the more her eyes adjusted. The building was old. Almost cavernous with how empty it was. An old-fashioned cot sat behind bars of a little jail cell in the corner. Next to the cell was a sturdy wooden desk, an ink stand with a feather sticking out of it sitting on top. Ancient “Wanted” posters were tacked to the wall. They all looked like props in a Western movie. A lantern even sat on a barrel in a different corner, with burlap sacks arranged around it.
The lantern.
It might work as a signal. Hopefully it had something flammable in it. But she had to get to it. The wooden chair she was tied to was on the flimsier side. If she could free her arm from the table she was strapped to, she could maybe find a way to escape. Signal for help.
Without Vaynes holding the straps tight around her arm, she’d managed to loosen them a little. She couldn’t move her hand without excruciating pain shooting up her broken and bloodied fingers, but she had to. He could come back at any time.
Della bit down on her molars and yanked her shoulder away from the table, screaming inside at the burn shooting up from her hand. But her arm, already bloody and now sweaty too, finally slipped out of the straps.
That was one limb she could use. But with the broken fingers, there wasn’t much she could grasp. There was no way to untie the knots trapping her other wrist or undo the duct tape around her ankles and chair legs. But she could scooch the chair out of the construction light’s reach and look for a weapon or tool. Bit by bit she hopped the chair over the cord stretched across the room and made it to the desk. Nothing there to use. But the lantern might be useful. Using her thumb, she hooked the wire handle of the lantern and lifted it to her nose.
One whiff told her it was kerosene.
Now she just needed something to ignite it. If there was a way to get outside and set a small fire, someone would call the fire department, right? Della moved toward the double doors across the room.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Vaynes roared.
She yelped as he caught the back of her chair and dragged her to the middle of the room.
He knocked the lantern out of her hand, sending it crashing to the floor. Splintered glass shimmered while the kerosene puddled and spread across several of the wooden planks.
No!
