Page 25 of Saved By the Marines (Soldiers Of Misfortune)

Stay calm and think. You took a beating last night, true. But you also jumped out of a moving vehicle and ran barefoot through the rainforest. You’re not weak. You can think your way through this. How are you going to get out of here?

Bolstering my courage, I opened my eye again and studied the room. There were all sorts of tools in here, but my gaze fell on an ax nearby. My feet were tied with rope as well, but I wasn’t anchored to anything.

I laid back down and rolled my way over to the weapon. The dirt and grime covering the floor transferred to my skin and clothes, but hygiene was the least of my worries right now. If I didn’t get myself out of this situation, it was going to turn deadly for me.

Best case scenario, my father would pay a ransom for me, but who knew how long that would take? The fact that they had me out here in a shed instead of in a home couldn’t be a good sign. A dark spot soaked into the floorboards in a corner of the room caught my attention and I bit my bottom lip.

Please let that be some kind of machine oil and not blood.

Struggling back into a sitting position in front of the ax, I managed to set myself against it so that I could start sawing at the ropes binding my wrists together.

It only took a few minutes to realize this wasn’t going to be as easy as I’d thought. “It only takes like a couple of swipes in the movies,” I muttered, rubbing my ropes back and forth over the ax blade. “Stupid movies. Gives people unrealistic expectations.”

Talking to myself was really the only way to keep my panic at a manageable level. I was a college student who loved to bake. I wasn’t really cut out for this. Unfortunately, here I was. I could either sit here and wallow in self-pity and let this happen—something the old me would have probably opted for—or I could take matters into my own hands and do everything I could to escape.

“Persistence, right? Just because your first escape ended with a punch to the face doesn’t mean we stop trying.” Not that I was eager to feel a set of knuckles slamming into my nose again. That hadn’t exactly been fun.

The spaces between the walls of the shed didn’t give me much indication of where I was or how long I’d been unconscious. I wiggled my hands again and felt relief when the ropes shifted a little.

A gasp tore from my lips as the feeling and blood came rushing back into my fingers and they began tingling painfully. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to move them around until the pins and needles feeling was gone.

Rattling came from the door and my eyes widened as I realized someone was coming inside. It sounded like they were unlocking the doors.

As quickly as I could I rolled myself back over to the spot I’d woken up in, casting a last longing glance over at the ax.

My kidnappers flung open the doors and my focus was pulled to them. It couldn’t be a good thing that they were letting me get a good look at their faces. Neither had bothered to cover up. A chill skated down my spine at the hard look in the man’s eyes who’d pulled me from my room at the embassy.

“Come with us.” He folded muscular arms over his chest as his friend came over and used one of my arms to yank me to my feet.

I gasped as the wrenching pain bolted through me, but I didn’t struggle. The last thing I wanted was for them to realize my ropes were hanging on by a thread. “Do you expect me to hop to wherever we’re going?” I asked. Giving a pointed look at the ropes around my feet, I met the first man’s eyes and arched my brow. He was the leader out of these two men.

He made a vague motion and the man standing next to me used a wicked looking knife to saw through my bonds. He straightened and ran the flat edge over my cheek. The point raked over my skin, but didn’t scratch or puncture. “Que piel tan bonita. No puedo esperar a cortarlo en pequeños pedacitos.”

I swallowed, terror turning my blood to ice in my veins. He’d just told me that I had beautiful skin and he couldn’t wait to cut it into tiny little pieces. My heart was beating against my chest so hard it was as though it was going to escape this room with or without me.

The man standing near the door let out a frustrated growl. “Basta. Puedes jugar con ella más tarde. No puede sangrar cuando llamamos a su padre.”

I knew in that moment that keeping quiet about knowing Spanish was going to get me more answers than not. He’d just told Crazy Town to stop it. That he could play with me later. A shudder of revulsion and dread rolled through me at the thought of everything he might do if I was left alone with him. My brain focused on his last words. She can’t be bleeding when we call her father. I had to get out of here. It didn’t matter what it took. If I didn’t, I was as good as dead.

Crazy Town shoved me forward, and I stumbled before catching myself. I made sure to tuck my hands as much as possible so that—hopefully—he wouldn’t notice my frayed ropes.

If I tried to escape now, they’d easily catch me. No. I had to go along with them and hope that I had an opportunity later. Find some shoes hopefully. Trying to be as subtle as possible, I looked around as we walked. We were in a large clearing, rainforest surrounding us on all sides.

We were walking toward a house, but there was a huge barn and fields—at least twenty acres—of rows and rows of pot plants.

Oh God. Not only do I now know what they look like, but I know where their marijuana farm is. I’m so dead.

My hands were cold and clammy and it was like I was moving robotically, being marched toward the house and likely my own demise. A quick look at the face of the man in front of me and my head spun.

He glared over his shoulder at me. “Hurry up!” he snapped.

I tried, but everything was whirling around me. I couldn’t pass out. If I did they’d drag me, discover my ropes, and all hope would be lost. Biting down on my tongue so hard blood filled my mouth, I fought to stay present in the moment and not faint. It worked. The sharp pain from my tongue forced my mind to focus on it rather than entering the house and being shoved into a chair in front of a tripod holding a phone facing me.

I didn’t speak. What would I say? There was no point in reasoning with them. A huge body blocked my view of the phone as I heard the unmistakable trilling of a video conference call dialing.

“Hello?”

My eye closed as my father’s voice echoed through the room. I didn’t know if he could help me or not, but maybe my Marines could? Their faces flashed in my mind and I suddenly missed them, even Jasper.

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