Page 82 of One Night Years Ago

“You will beg for mercy!” Ford shouted. Hunter groaned but didn’t make any other sound. “Or I’ll do to you what those men did, so many years ago, when you were a good-looking piece of ass in prison. Surprised to hear I know about that? You thought it was a secret, perhaps?”

Natalie gasped as the meaning of Ford’s words became clear to her. Her eyes sought Hunter’s, trying to read the truth in his gaze. Hunter’s cool gray eyes met hers. Despite the violence being done to him, his gaze was calm, and she suddenly understood that he wasn’t trying to get loose, that he wasn’t trying to rescue her, he was giving her the chance to rescue herself.

But I can’t move. How am I going to get us out of here?

Because she already knew she wasn’t going to leave Hunter behind. No matter what.

Natalie shook her head in frustration. Then shook it again, amazed, because if she was able to shake her head, it meant the drugs were wearing off. Her mind took off excitedly. Maybe she hadn’t had as much poison as Ford thought. She stayed very still on the bed, trying not to draw any attention to herself as she worked to move her hands.

At first, her left wrist only moved an inch off the mattress before falling back again. She tried with her right hand, her dominant hand. She was able to flex it and move it a few inches. She took that as a small success.

But it’s too slow.

She looked at Ford again. The monster was still beating on Hunter, the sloppy sounds of each blow making Natalie sick to her stomach.

Hunter’s going to die if you don’t move now.

Natalie lifted her arms over her head then down again so her elbows pushed up against the mattress. Leaning back on her arms, she was able to sit up in bed.

Don’t fall back, don’t fall back. You need to be quiet as a mouse.

She almost laughed out loud at that train of thought. She’d never been quiet. She got her legs to the side of the bed, amazed that Ford still hadn’t looked back in her direction. But he thought her helpless, and he was enjoying beating Hunter too much.

On the night table beside her, Natalie noticed Ford’s knife, which he’d carelessly dropped. She suddenly felt emboldened.

That mistake will cost him dearly.

She swallowed a noise of frustration when her legs didn’t respond to her instruction at first.

Grab that knife now or Hunter’s going to die.

The thought brought such pain it gave her the momentum she needed to move her arms towards the knife. The noise of her heartbeat echoed loudly in her own ears. She hoped she was the only one who could hear it.

She got to her feet slowly. Her body was sluggish, and she still felt slightly detached from it, but it was hers to command again. She took a step towards the men.

She saw Hunter and did a double-take. His face was almost unrecognizable. One eye was swollen completely shut, and blood flowed freely from his other eye and nose down the rest of his face. His open eye fixed on her and blinked repeatedly. He looked towards the doorway for a moment then blinked again.

Natalie didn’t need to be a mind reader to understand what Hunter was trying to tell her. He was asking her to run out the door. But she also knew if she did that, she’d be signing his death warrant.

She took a deep breath to steady herself before moving again. Not towards the door but towards Ford.

Hunter groaned. “Please stop, Ford,” he begged. “You’re hurting me.”

“Finally! You think I’m going to stop hurting you? Your words just mean I’m going to enjoy it more,” Ford said, jerking Hunter violently to a sitting position again and kicking him again.

Natalie took another step forward. She was close enough that she could reach out and touch Ford now if she stretched her arms.

You only get one chance.

Still, she hesitated. She knew she couldn’t stab him in the back. The chances that the knife would get stuck on one of Ford’s ribs, causing him little damage, were high. At that precise moment Ford leaned forward, throttling Hunter.

Natalie suddenly remembered her old college anatomy textbook. The movement left his armpit open to attack. Before she could second-guess herself, she raised her knife with the edge of the blade facing back towards her and thrust upwards into Ford’s armpit. She felt the blade snag and pushed harder, putting her whole body weight behind it. As Ford roared, Natalie yanked it out towards her.

For a moment nothing happened and she thought she’d failed. Then blood started spurting from the wound and she knew she’d at least nicked his axillary artery.

Ford roared, forgetting Hunter for a moment. He turned around to look at her, pressing against his left armpit with his right hand. Blood continued spurting through his fingers. His face was ashen.

“You bitch, I’m going to kill you,” Ford said, but there was little strength behind his threat now.