AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Frustrated, I fall to the floor, wincing as the plastic cuts into my skin. My head bows as I examine my wrists, trying to find a weak spot in the restraints but finding none.
There has to be a way to get out of these ties.
I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, twisting my hands futilely. Then it hits me. I remember seeing a video once on how to escape zip ties. At the time, I thought it was just a joke, but now, it just might save my life.
All I remember from the video was someone lifting their hands above their head and swinging their arms down across their lower abdomen. I lift myself off the floor, bracing my legs apart, and raise my hands above my head. The moment my wrists hit my middle, I know it didn’t work. The pain that radiates through my wrists and torso sends a cry from my lips, and my eyes dart to the door at the top of the stairs. When I don’t see or hear anything, I look down at the white plastic and try again. This time when I raise my hands above my head, I close my eyes, picturing the bonds breaking.
When the ties stretch against my skin and then break, a sense of relief washes over me as my body relaxes. I probe my fingers against the raw, exposed skin of my wrists and then look back up at the window, steeling myself for what I’m about to do. I listen one last time, making sure there’s no one around, and then climb the pipe. It takes a few tries before I make it anywhere near the window, but when I do, and my eyes take in the expanse of field in front of me, I wonder if this is a good idea. There’s no cover, nowhere for me to hide, and the thought of what could happen if Brandon catches me sends shivers through my entire body.
Am I being stupid here? Should I just wait until the police arrive?
I shake my head. No. I refuse to wait for someone to come and rescue me. I’ve taken care of myself for years, and that includes today. I wonder for a split second what Damon’s doing right now while I scale a wall and plot my escape. Is he worried about me? Is he looking for me? God, I hope so.
I hang onto the pipe with one hand and reach for the latch that opens the window with the other. When it gives way, and I smell the fresh scent of newly cut grass, I let myself smile.
This could work.
I jump down to the concrete again, making sure to land as softly as possible, and then shake out my fingers. I bounce up and down on the balls of my feet as I stretch my neck from side to side.
I can do this. I can break out of here and save myself.
I jump and climb up the pipe like I did four times before. My hands grip the edge of the windowsill, and I do a pull-up that I’ve only done once before—that day at camp—and hoist myself through the window. It takes a few shimmies for my body to get through the tight opening, but when it does, and I feel the fresh air on my skin, I do the one thing I should.
I run.
What I don’t expect is the sensation of flying through the air and landing hard on my back.
“You think you can run away from me, you selfish bitch?” Brandon screams, picking me up by my forearms and heaving me off the ground as if I weigh nothing.
“What did you think to do, run away, and I wouldn’t notice?” he snarls as his fingers dig into my skin.
“I have sensors on all the windows, I knew the moment you opened it.” Of course, he did.
Would it have made a difference if you had known? I think to myself as I stare into the eyes of my captor. Nope, I still would have tried.
“Nothing to say?” he mutters, his breath cascading over the skin of my neck. “You’re mine. No one is coming for you…”
“CLARA!” a voice yells from somewhere in the distance. I hear it one more time before a sense of calm washes over me.
It’s Damon. He’s here.
I don’t think. I just act. I spin out of Brandon’s grip and run. I don’t know where Damon is, but I know if I run fast and far enough, he’ll find me.
“CLARA!” I hear again, and my steps falter. I trip over my feet and land hard on my knees. My gaze scans upward and I see Damon, running around the side of the house. His eyes meet mine just as I’m yanked up by the collar of my shirt.
“That’s the second time you’ve run from me, Clara…” Brandon murmurs against my neck. My eyes only see Damon as he comes to a halt a few yards away.
“You like the chase, baby? You like making me work for it?” I don’t say or do anything, only stare at the one man who has my heart. The cool metal feels foreign against my temple, and I close my eyes, not wanting to see the anguish staring back at me. I know what Brandon has in his hand. It’s not a mystery to me.
“Brandon, don’t do this,” Damon says calmly, but when my eyes search his, I notice nothing but panic there. It’s running off him in waves, and I wish I could take that look and throw it into a woodchipper.
“You don’t get to talk!” Brandon screams and pushes the gun muzzle harder into the side of my head.
“She was mine before she was ever yours! I saw her first!” If I weren’t so afraid he would blow my brains out, I would tell him that he’s insane.
“Brandon, think about this for a minute. You would hurt Clara even though you say you love her?” The question’s a legitimate one, but from the tense set of the body behind me, I can tell that Brandon’s past the point of reason.
“I would rather her die than be with someone like you,” he snarls, his free arm wrapping around my stomach and pressing me closer to his chest. His erratic breathing makes me think that he’s losing control, and I know I don’t have a lot of time to get myself out of this.
