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He sailed backward. His head connected with her rock-solid granite counter top. The crack of his head hitting the stone was so loud she was surprised if her neighbors didn’t come running. Chloe watched with a combination of horror and fascination as his body slumped to the floor in an unconscious heap.
She stood there for a moment, sucking wind and trembling as she stared at the man she’d knocked out cold. Funny, he didn’t look so dangerous sprawled out on her tile floor, eyes closed and blood dripping from his nose and mouth.
After another moment of staring, her phone chimed with an incoming new alert. The sound ripped her from her trance.
Who knew how long he’d be out for? She could see the rise and fall of his chest, so she hadn’t killed him, which meant he’d be waking at some point. There was no way in hell she planned to be around when that happened, but she needed to restrain him, or the fucker would be free to continue his reign of torment.
Suddenly feeling frantic to have him restrained, Chloe pulled open drawer after drawer searching for something to tie him up. Her handcuffs would work but she’d need something to secure him to and wasn’t sure she could drag his heavy body through her house once she found something.
“Damnit,” she yelled as she slammed her junk drawer closed. Her heart was thrumming so hard, it was hard to think above the pounding in her head. She forced herself to close her eyes and take a deep breath. As she did, visions of herself bound to the motel bed flooded her mind.
“Duct tape,” she whispered aloud. “I have duct tape.”
Ohh, sweet irony, using the same medium to restrain Lefty as he’d used to tie her up. She ran out of the kitchen, careful to swing a wide berth around his body as she ran for her office. A quick rummage through her closet had her emerging with a thick roll of duct tape.
After running back to the kitchen, she stood over Lefty’s prone and bleeding body. Her fingers shook as she tried to peel an edge of the tape back. “Fuck,” she grumbled as she failed for the fourth time. Her quivering fingers just wouldn’t obey.
She inhaled a stuttering breath. “Relax. You can do this.” After exhaling, she snuck her nail under the corner of the tape and peeled back the sticky strip. Her eyes fell closed. “Thank you,” she whispered.
She tiptoed over to Lefty as though that would somehow prevent him from waking and crouched down by his feet. Reaching out a tentative hand, she touched his shoe and jumped as though she was electrified.
Nothing happened.
It was now or never, so she shoved his legs together then wound the tape around his ankles. Once, twice, and again until she was convinced he couldn’t bust out of it should he wake. Lefty hadn’t so much as stirred, which bolstered her confidence. After struggling for a few minutes, she was able to roll him onto his stomach. Not bothering to be gentle, his face clunked against the tile floor and she held her breath, but once again, he remained motionless.
Still breathing like she was being chased, Chloe gathered his wrists at the base of his spine. With quick hands, she treated them to the same overkill taping as she had his feet. Then she rose to survey her work.
A horn honked somewhere in the distance and she jolted so hard, the tape flew from her hands and landed on Lefty’s back.
No movement.
He could still escape if he woke up. Yeah, she’d tied him, but he could work his way to a stand and hop. Blowing out a breath, she wiped her sweaty brow and knelt down near Lefty’s feet. Bending Lefty’s knees, she used her torso to press them toward his ass. When they were somewhat close to his hands, she wound the remaining tape in a loop between his hands and feet, securing them together.
Panting, she fell back on her butt. “Shit,” she muttered as perspiration ran down her face. Tying up a sadistic asshole was hard work. She stood on unsteady legs and surveyed her work. Sloppy as hell, but Lefty wasn’t going anywhere.
As she stood there gazing down at the damaged man who once held so much power over her, the realization of what just happened crashed down around her.
Esposito had let him in her house.
They’d fought.
She’d won.
Now that the immediate danger was gone, her face throbbed like a sonofabitch. She wiped her cheek and discovered what she’d thought was sweat was actually blood. He’d split the skin with his knuckles. As the adrenalin waned from her system, her body began to shake. Hard.
Her skin itched, and all of a sudden, she could not stand being in her house for one more second. Eyes on Lefty’s prone form, she stumbled backward, crashing into her kitchen table.
