Page 97 of Enticing the Fixer

“And when he got into a relationship with Valeria, she became jealous.”

“Yes.”

Son of a bitch. How did I overlook that?I spin on my heel with Maverick on my six. I might have overlooked the who, but I knew the why. It always comes down to greed.

Please, God, don’t let me be too late.

Even though I haven’t prayed this much in 25 years, I send up another prayer. There’s probably a statute of limitations on when God gives a shit about what you want when you haven’t given a shit about him, but damn, I need a favor.

Chapter Fifty-One

Kinsley

As Carla and her aunt bicker in the corner over a ring Marge wants back, I study my surroundings for weapons. Next to me on the end table is a lamp, but its construction is weak. On the coffee table is a book. That’s not much to go on.

The kitchen. There’s a knife block full of knives on the kitchen counter. The cabinets are closed, but I’m guessing there’re plenty of pans that could be used to smack them in the heads.

If I can get my hands free, I can get away. I close my eyes and inhale. Maybe. Right now, I can’t feel my fingers, and my legs are asleep. But I’m not giving up.

I slowly exhale. I’m not letting them get away with murder, and I’m not letting these assholes steal my father’s company. And I’m sure in the hell not going to lie down so one of these twats can kill me.

I snap my eyes open. “I need to pee.”

“Too bad.” Carla glares.

“I’m going to pee right here.”

“No….” Her jaw flexes as she grinds her teeth together. “You won’t.”

“Then you need to untie me so I can go pee. I would appreciate it.”

“Don’t let her up. It’s dangerous.” Marge paces behind the sofa. Her white hair is tight to her skull, and the black pantsuit she’s wearing doesn’t fit the image of a kidnapper.

Once again, proving you can’t trust anyone but friends and family. And even then, you must consider what someone has at stake by getting close to you. Is this how Leo feels? I’m not sure I like it.

As if she’s lifting her arm up and raising her middle finger as a big fuck you to her aunt, Carla strides across the floor, unlaces my hands and feet with a flourish, and wraps the top binding tightly to her hand. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Her perfume tickles my nose, making it twitch.Don’t sneeze.“Thank you so much for letting me up. I really need to go.”

“No worries.” Her nostrils flare as she drags me to a standing position.

Oh, my feet. Fuck.Tears sting my eyes. The first stab of needles tingling through my feet and legs is a relief and a curse. I can feel my feet, but the pain is excruciating.

As she drags me beside her to the closed door in the hallway, each step feels like I’m going to fall on my face, except my hands are twisted at an awkward angle, and she’s holding me upright.

After she twists the knob, she peers inside, glancing in all directions as if she’s anticipating someone jumping out of the shadows. I stand next to her but don’t move.

The toilet is along the back wall in the corner, and the sink is white porcelain. That might come in handy, but nothing else stands out as a weapon. Unless I find a way to wrap her up in the pink shower curtain and bash her in the head with a shampoo bottle.

If push comes to shove, I’ll do it.

Unfortunately, there are no windows or alternate exits from the room, and the likelihood I could have shimmied down the drainpipe with my arms behind my back is a ridiculous thing to consider anyway.

I’d give anything for Leo to pop out from behind the shower curtain and rescue me. And hold me forever. But he has no idea where I am, and if Carla’s right, her police officer friend has wiped all evidence of my father’s murder and, my kidnapping.

I’m on my own.

“Don’t let her loose.”

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