Page 85 of Blackmail
Of course he finds this funny. Of course he fucking does.
I stare up at the barn ceiling. With my eyes adjusted to the dark, I can see the outline of the beams, the edge of the hayloft, and the splintered bit of roof that gives me a view of stars and a crescent moon.
There’s got to be some way out of here. I’ve tugged experimentally at the zip tie around my wrists, but it’s awfully tight. And anyone who’s even bought a kitchen tool knows how impossible breaking those things is. My feet are free. If he came a little closer I could kick him. Maybe even manage a scissor hold.
Maybe I could choke him to death with my thighs. Bet that would be poetic.
But in my attempt to problem solve a way out of this shit, I take my eye off the prize. Or in this case, the psycho ex, and the next thing I know I’m on my back with his hand around my throat.
“We’ve got your transport lined up, Isaiah. You’re going to get loaded back into the van, along with a son whose family doesn’t contribute enough around here. As we speak, Tony is picking up a special order from one of his parties. Then all of you are going to take a nice boat ride to a pretty island in the Bahamans. By morning, nobody will have a clue where you are. I doubt anyone will care. Tony tells me you’re a whore. It’s fitting, really. You were always so easy. But nobody’s going to give a shit what happens to you. There’s nobody left to care.”
Doesn’t he know my brother is staying with me? Or did Tony not tell him? What about Sebastian? He’d care. I know he’d care.
“Oh, if you’re thinking about your brother, don’t worry. Stupid kid managed to wander into that fucking Brennan Doyle’s office this afternoon. If that guy doesn’t take care of him, we will soon enough.”
Fuck, there are spots in my vision. I’m having trouble breathing. Elijah’s anger has him squeezing harder. My only fucked-up saving grace is that this ball of grease apparently wants to sell me, so I can’t die. Right?
If I could get to my phone I’d call Brennan. He’s more likely to help me than the cops. Whoever shot me full of sedatives took it, though, I think.
Lord, I hope Gabe is okay. And Penelope. And Sebastian… If I had known I wouldn’t be seeing him again, I might have said some different things.
Things like, I’m falling in love with you even though it feels too fast, even though it scares the shit out of me.
It isn’t until I’m lightheaded and my body’s gone limp that Elijah eases his grip. He sits back, probably congratulating himself on dominating me once again. But I’m not letting him win this time. I can’t. If I don’t get out of here, I might not be alive tomorrow. Fuck getting shipped out of the country.
I force air into my lungs, and I kick. Like I did all those years ago, that night my father found me and nearly whipped me to death in his rage. I’m fighting for my life. The difference this time is I’m not a gawky teenager whose limited muscles came from harvesting squash and bringing in the cows. Who never got enough to eat because my father was sharing food with six other people on a self-sustained patch of land riddled with sand and unforgiving clay soil.
While I was in nursing school, I took classes on exercise and nutrition. I used that information to build myself into a stronger, better person. I’ve helped many of my patients at the assisted living facility with their physical therapy, learning about functional strength.
For example, it’s a good test of overall physical fitness to be able to stand up from the floor without using your hands. I’ve practiced. It’s harder than it sounds.
With a yell, I manage to roll myself up and push to my feet. Then I’m barreling shoulder first at a startled-looking Elijah. Fucking punk.
He lands on his back with a violent whoosh of air. Then I manage a kick to the head, and he goes still. He still looks like he’s breathing, but at least he’s out.
That’s when I hear shouting.
Chapter
Thirty
SEBASTIAN
I’m staring at barbed-wire fence with a sign that says “Trespassers will be shot on sight.” Lovely.
“FBI should be on their way soon,” Brennan says beside me. “So we need to be in and out quickly.”
“Who called the FBI?”
“I did,” Brennan says. “I know a guy out of the Orlando office. He agreed to give us some lead time. But this shit is bigger than us. We’ve got people being transported across state lines and out of the fucking country, for fuck’s sake.”
I’m thinking the movies aren’t the only reason for Simon’s love of swearing.
I turn to take the night vision binoculars he’s holding out to me. “This place is huge. Where are we even supposed to look?”
Simon’s brother steps up on the other side of Brennan, pointing toward a thick stand of trees. “There’s a partially damaged section of fence down that way, it’s easier to climb over. That’s how I got out before. I doubt it’s been fixed yet. The area around there is also pretty swampy, so it’s tough to take the horses through when they’re checking the perimeter. There’s still a row of wire along the bottom, so it’s easy to trip. I’m still a little worried I caught something nasty tromping through there.”
“Gators?” I ask.
