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I raced into the kitchen, scaring the crap out of the woman preparing food. She must have been getting ready for the next day. I ran past her, grabbing a croissant and stuffing it in my mouth as I grabbed the still hot pan off the stove and threw it across the room, hitting one man in the face. He screamed as hot liquid splashed over his skin.
I jolted forward as someone attacked me from behind. My stomach slammed into the kitchen island filled with goodies, and all the food went flying. I jerked my head back, hitting the man in the face with my unusually hard head. His grip loosened just enough for me to turn, grabbing the flour on the counter in the process and throwing it in his face. He stumbled back, spluttering as he tried in vain to see.
I rolled over the counter, landing on my feet on the other side as I ran out of the kitchen, past a small table for the servants. They had Chinese food tonight. I grabbed the chopsticks and raced out of the room and down the hall.
I was tackled from the side, and this time, there was no way out. The giant man on top of me quickly restrained me, yanking my hands behind my back. I was hauled upright as the man breathed heavily beside me. His breath smelled like onions, oddly, reminding me of Fox.
“What are you grinning about?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing,” I laughed. “You know, just good times.”
“They won’t be so good in a few minutes,” he said, shoving me forward.
I thought maybe he was going to take me to meet his boss. At least then I would die (or pretend to die) knowing who was trying to kill me. Maybe I’d even know why.
I was marched out of the house, having not achieved my goal. Rafe was going to be pissed at me, and I knew when I missed my check-in, there would be nothing he could do for me. It wasn’t exactly the way I saw this going, but then again, taking a job for Rafe was always going to be a little more than challenging.
I was taken out back by the edge of the property. They probably didn’t want to kill me near the house and ruin the pristine lawn. But as we walked further away, I understood why they were taking me out here. Under the cover of trees, large mounds of dirt were spaced about three feet apart. It was a graveyard, well hidden from satellites, which was why Rafe didn’t know about it.
Or if he did, he wasn’t sharing.
The man shoved me forward, making me trip and fall to the ground. I felt the snick of a knife around my wrists and made my move, grabbing the man’s wrist and yanking. Little good it did. I was immediately tackled to the ground by another man, who proceeded to slam his fist into my face. The taste of blood filled my mouth, making this officially the worst vacation ever.
He grabbed my wrists once again and pulled them together in front of me, then zip-tied them. Then I was hauled to my feet again and a shovel was placed in my hands.
“Dig.”
“Sure,” I nodded, spitting blood on the ground. “You’re…what? Six-five?”
“The grave isn’t for me,” he grinned maliciously.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Oh, I’m sure.”
Well, there wasn’t much arguing to do here. I was outnumbered and zip-tied. Not that I couldn’t get myself out of this situation. I was nothing, if not wily. I’d get out of this one way or another. I just wasn’t sure how yet.
* * *
?
* * *
“I’m pretty surethis isn’t the way this was supposed to go,” I muttered as I laid in the ground with only a small pocket of air over me.
As soon as they pushed me into the ground and started piling dirt on top of my body, I cupped my hands over my mouth and nose to ensure I had a nice airway. Not that it would last long being buried in the ground. In order to get out of here, I had to free my hands, but I couldn’t do that without space to move. I tried digging with my fingers, but the dirt just kept collapsing back on me, which wouldn’t help me get out. What I needed was more time, a way to get some air that would allow me to work at the pace I needed.
And then it struck me. I wiggled through the dirt, doing my best not to let the dirt fall on my face. “If I can just…reach,” I said, wiggling my fingers through the dirt until I felt the wooden sticks in my pocket. I grinned despite the situation and slowly slid the chopsticks up my body with two fingers until I could finally get a good grip on them.
I was already running short on time and air. I wiggled my hands up until I could finally start clawing at the dirt with the chopsticks, but I was still running low on air. I needed a hole. I started poking a hole with one chopstick, wiggling it around just enough to allow air to flow through the hole. It took way too long, and black spots appeared before my eyes. I was losing air too fast. I abandoned any hope of digging an air hole and got to work whittling my way out of the dirt?—
17
CASH
“Hold on,”I interrupted the ridiculous story. “Are you telling me that you dug your way out of a grave using only chopsticks?”
He cocked his head at me. “Are you saying I didn’t do it?”
