Page 98 of Kyle

“This is happening,” Emerson warned. “As soon as the door opens, we both have to attack. We’ll only have a few seconds to surprise whoever’s here to take us. We can’t let that happen.”

My heart was pounding in my throat and so much adrenaline was coursing through me my hands were trembling.

“We can do this,” Emmy assured me.

“I know we can. No one is ever taking us again. Not ever.”

Fear was transforming into fury. This time, the daunting thought of being held against my will wasn’t riddled with regret. Instead there was a far greater emotion, one that would fuel my determination.

Kyle.

He was not going to lose me. I was not going to be taken alive. No matter what, I was going home to him, or I would die trying. I wasn’t going to live the rest of my life like Monica. That was not my destiny.

Emerson gave me a wobbly smile. “That’s right. Kick, bite, scratch, whatever you have to do.”

The bedroom door rattled and Emerson looked like she was preparing to run the hundred-yard dash. All we needed was the whistle to blow and we’d be off running. I hoped to God we weren’t running headlong to our deaths.

No. I wasn’t going to think that.

Fuck that. We were gonna live.

The door swung open and there was a flash of recognition. But it was not Jeremy who’d entered. I took off, not waiting for Emerson. Not waiting to see if he had a gun. All I cared about was bashing his head in.

With no thought, working on instinct alone I moved, my legs wrapped around the man’s waist, he stumbled back, and my head conked his. His curse was gruff and menacing, and he struggled to get me off. I punched, clawed, and scratched. Until he yanked my legs off him and threw me to the floor. Emerson leaped over me. I heard a grunt and wrapped both my arms around his ankles. Suddenly he was falling backward. Emerson tripped over my prone body but I was holding on for dear life.

The man’s fall happened in slow motion, it seemed to take forever for him to tumble, but when he did, there was a loud crack before he hit the carpet.

Blood pooled around the man’s head and his eyes were closed.

The only sounds that filled the room were mine and Emerson’s panting.

She crawled over me, placed her finger on his neck, and moments later announced, “Still alive. Quick, find something to tie him up with. I’m gonna check the house.” She scrambled to get the man’s gun, now feet from where he’d landed, and she was out the door.

Tie him up? There was nothing.

Sheets. I could tear the sheets. Maybe.

After a few minutes of trying to rip the quality bed clothes, I knew I needed scissors or a knife.

Glancing at Harry Landry, I knew he wasn’t going anywhere. But if he did wake up, Emerson had a gun. I ran out of the room and down the hall and skidded to a stop.

Jeremy was on the floor, blood everywhere. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’d known he was dead. He had to be; there was no way Harry would’ve made it to us in the bedroom if he’d been alive. But knowing it and seeing it were two different things.

“We need the keys to his bedroom. I need something to cut the sheets,” I told Emerson when she walked back into the house.

“I think Harry was alone. I only see his car out there,” she said, and crouched next to Jeremy patting his pockets.

When she found what I needed, she tossed me the keys. “I’m gonna watch the door. Holler if you need me.”

Jeremy’s room proved to be a treasure trove. I wasn’t sure what he’d been planning for, but I found rope and duct tape. After rummaging around, I also found a large hunting knife and scissors. I’d leave the knife for now, until Harry was secure.

I ran back to the room, and after three tries finally got Harry onto his stomach and his hands behind his back. I sat back on my heels and realized I’d never tied anyone up before and had no idea how to start.

What sounded like a slight groan came from Harry and I started wrapping the rope as tightly as I could around his wrists and made knots as I went. I cut the rope and pulled out the duct tape and wound that over the rope and up his forearms. The thought of the tape removing his thick arm hair thrilled me.

Emerson came to the door and looked down at Harry and nodded her approval.

“Good work. Now his feet. But leave a few feet between his ankles. Just enough for him to shuffle. We can’t carry him.”