Naomi worked the nail between her palms, angling it against the binding. Every movement was awkward and painful, her shoulders burning from being wrenched back for hours. But the first thread popped. Then another.
“What if he comes back?” Angel whispered.
“Then we hide this and try again later.” Naomi gritted her teeth as the rough metal scraped against her wrist. “But he won’t be back until morning. He thinks we’re secure. And we will be, if I can’t get these bonds off.”
Angel nodded, then curled back into her corner, watching the door.
It took nearly an hour. Naomi’s hands cramped, her wrists were slick with blood, and the nail kept slipping. But strand by strand, the paracord gave way. Finally, with a snap that seemed too loud in the silence, the binding broke. Her arms fell to her sides, shoulders screaming in protest at the sudden release.
She fought through the pins and needles that stabbed through her arms, flexing her fingers until feeling returned. Then she tackled the tape around her ankles, picking at the edgewith the nail until she could get a grip, then peeling it back in one quick, painful motion.
Free. She was free.
Angel watched her with naked hope. “You did it.”
“Yeah.” Naomi crawled to the girl, working quickly on her bindings. “We need to move fast. Can you help me with Tariah?”
Angel nodded, rubbing her newly freed wrists. “She’s heavy.”
“I know. But we can’t leave her.” Naomi moved to Tariah, who still hadn’t moved from her slumped position against the hay bale. Her eyes were half-open, glazed and unseeing. “Tariah? Can you hear me?”
No response.
Naomi checked her pulse. Slow but steady. She cut the girl’s bonds, then gently tapped her cheek. “Tariah. We need you to wake up. We’re getting out of here.”
Tariah’s head lolled, a thin strand of drool escaping her lips. Whatever they’d given her, it was strong.
“We’ll have to carry her.” Naomi glanced at the door. “But first, let’s see what we’re up against.”
She crept to the stall gate, testing it. Locked. But the mechanism was simple—just a sliding bolt on the outside. She threaded her arm through the bars, fingers stretching toward the latch. Almost...
Angel watched her, trembling. “What if there are dogs?”
“We’ll deal with that if it happens.” Her fingertips brushed metal. “Almost there.”
With a final stretch that sent pain shooting through her shoulder, she caught the edge of the bolt and slid it free. The gate swung open with a creak that made her freeze.
No sound from outside.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Let’s move.”
Together, they lifted Tariah between them, arms around her waist. The girl was deadweight, her feet dragging on the floor. Each step was a struggle.
“Wait.” Naomi paused at the stall door. “Listen.”
Through the thin walls, she could hear the low murmur of voices. At least two men, maybe more. One sounded agitated, pacing.
“—can’t just keep her here. She’s fucking FBI. You know how many people are looking for her?”
“Ex-FBI. And nobody’s looking that hard. The sheriff’s already eyeing that ex-con from the Ridge she’s been fucking. We’re in the clear.”
Naomi’s blood ran cold. Ghost. Of course this would blow back on him.
“Keep your voice down,” the first voice hissed. “I’m telling you, this shit is going sideways. When El Carnicero finds out?—”
“He won’t find out if you shut your mouth. Just keep them locked down until the exchange.”
Exchange. The word hung in the air like a death sentence.
