Page 26 of Pretty Wicked Secrets

“Safe” is the last thing I am. I can’t even remember what safe feels like.

I take a few deep breaths, forcing myself to relax as I reach for the skills I learned on stage. I never let anything get to me when I was stripping. I couldn’t. Emotions weren’t useful when I had a job to do, and I’ve got another one now, so I’ve got to keep them locked down a little longer because it’s time to do it.

I haven’t heard any movement, any sound at all, for long enough that I figure the men must have either gone out or finally retired to their rooms. And sure, I thought the same thing last night when I tried to escape with Chloe, so I know damn well I could be wrong, but I’ve got no other choice. If they’re asleep, this is the best chance, maybe the only chance, I’m going to get to escape.

I’ve got to take it… and pray to higher powers who’ve never given a single shit about me that my luck will be better than it was last night.

“No more stalling,” I whisper to myself. It’s the world’s worst pep talk, but it’s all I’ve got right now.

I’m not sure how long it takes to work the thin piece of wire I stole from the kitchen out from between my breasts, and once I finally do, it’s even more frustrating to move it from where it falls on the mattress to one of my cuffed hands. I use my teeth and twist into positions that make me feel like a fucking pretzel, but I finally manage it.

I couldn’t have if I hadn’t convinced Logan to lock my hands around a single post in the bed frame instead of keeping them spread apart the way Dante had done last night, but I don’t feel guilty for preying on his moment of unexpected kindness. I don’t.

“Because I’ve got no fucking reason to,” I whisper in an effort to convince myself as I awkwardly try to work the wire into the locking mechanism for the cuffs.

I’ve got no idea what I’m doing outside of having watched a few heist movies with Chloe, and the frustration almost brings me to tears. It’s my one chance though, and even though the house has stayed quiet, that won’t last forever.

“I’ve got this,” I repeat, my eyes darting to the door.

Still closed. Still silent. But that doesn’t stop the rush of adrenaline that’s got me ready to vibrate right out of my skin.

I take a breath and refocus. It can’t be that fucking hard, and when I concentrate, I can just feel the tiny wire catching on something inside the handcuffs.

I push. Twist. Curse up a storm. And finally,finally,I feel something give.

The first cuff pops open, and I can’t hold back a gasp of relief as my hand comes free. But I’ve got no time to fall apart, so I get on with it, and even though I’m still not confident I understand how I managed the first one, the second cuff comes off faster.

The minute it clicks open, I hear a sound and freeze.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I mutter, staring hard at the door as my heart jumps up into my throat. But the house is as still as a tomb, and after a second, I relax. It must have been a car passing by outside. If they were watching me, if they’d heard me, they’d already be in here.

I toss the cuffs aside and scramble off the bed, my whole body shaking with adrenaline.

I use it as fuel, and move. If they locked me in here—

They didn’t.

“Thank fuck,” I whisper when the knob turns and I ease the door open to find the hallway silent, dark, and empty.

I close it and quickly put on some warmer clothes and a pair of shoes. I’m almost surprised that Logan didn’t come shred my clothes again, or that Maddoc didn’t simply take them all away. I’d still leave, even if I had to head out naked, but this will definitely be easier.

I look around for anything else useful I can take, but then realize I’m stalling. The most important thing is to get myself gone. I’ll figure out everything else once I’m free.

I turn away from the room that I’ve made my own these last weeks and slip out into the hall, every sense on high alert. But as I carefully creep down the hallway and then the stairs, no one tries to stop me. The house stays dark. And underneath all the adrenaline, a tiny, bright sliver of hope sparks to life in my chest.

I’m getting out of here. I’m really going to do it.

And then I’m going to find my sister.

I hesitate at the bottom of the stairs, debating which way to go. I instinctively want to head to the back of the house, go out the back door, past Maddoc’s office, like Chloe did. That’s stupid, though. She’s long gone, so it’s not like I’m going to pick up her trail that way, and the front door will give me easier access to the street, which will be faster.

Decided, I turn that way and move as silently as I can through the dark. I know I’ll have to run as soon as I hit the porch, because once I open the door they’ll be alerted, but for now, I can’t risk waking up any of the Reapers.

Too late.

With no warning at all, strong arms wrap around me from behind, yanking me back against an unyielding body that I now know all too well. Then the cold, hard prod of a gun presses into my back.

Hisgun.

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