Page 154 of No Good Fight

His mouth tightens, and I feel the buckle give another fraction beneath my fingers.

“You always rewrite things so you get to be the victim.”

The irony nearly makes me laugh, but I swallow it. I need him angry enough to focus on my face and not angry enough to hit me before I can move.

“You’re standing in a building you planned to burn after kidnapping me,” I say. “I don’t think I have to work very hard to make you look bad.”

His eyes narrow.

That is when I move.

My freed hand drops to the restraint at my ankle as I throw my weight sideways, taking the chair with me before Preston can understand what I’ve done. My ankles are still attached to the legs, but the impact twists one of them hard enough that the old metal frame bends. I kick wildly, using both feet instead of trying to find the buckle, and the chair catches Preston across the shins when he reaches for me.

He swears and stumbles backward.

I drag one leg until the restraint slides over my shoe.

That’s enough.

I leave the other shoe behind and crawl away from the chair, getting one foot underneath me before the room tilts so violently that I have to grab the shelving to stay upright.

“Mrs. Vance!”

“Alex!”

Her voice comes from the hallway to my right.

I move toward it.

Preston catches the back of Ryder’s hoodie before I make it three steps.

The fabric jerks tight across my throat, choking off my breath as he pulls me backward. I twist hard, slipping one arm out of the hoodie, then the other, and leave it in his hands.

For one beautiful second, he looks surprised.

I run.

My balance is terrible, one foot bare and the other still in a sneaker, but I get through the doorway and into the hall. Mrs. Vance calls my name again from somewhere ahead.

I reach the next door before Preston hits me from behind.

My shoulder slams into the wall. I catch myself with both hands and try to turn, but he grabs my hair and pulls me backward.

Pain tears across my scalp.

“Let go of me!”

I drive my elbow behind me and catch something soft enough to make him grunt. His grip loosens, and I turn, swinging without caring where my fist lands.

It catches his mouth.

He stares at me afterward with genuine disbelief.

Blood appears along his lip.

I have enough time to think that was probably a mistake.

Then he hits me.