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But the chains were going to rattle as I did it.
And the damn building was so eerily quiet.
Still it was the only way.
“Hang on,” I whispered as I moved behind him, going toward the hook and putting down my bag with my fancy, illegal gun, so I had both hands free to work it off of the hook and start to lower Valen down.
I cringed at the noise that sounded, to me, like the loudest thing I’d ever heard. But it must have been my worry that made me sensitive to it, because no one came running as I—inch by painstaking inch—lowered Valen onto his own feet.
I let out a sigh of relief when he kept his arms over his head, not letting the chains clatter down, even though I knew it was killing him, that they probably had the most severe case of pins and needles imaginable.
But he kept them up so I had a chance to rush back toward him, pull out his gag, and start to undo the figure eight pattern around his wrists.
“Where is everyone?” he whispered to me as I struggled with the chains.
My gaze must have been guilty because he let out a savage curse.
“Are your arms going to be able to work enough to haul your body out of the window?” I asked, cringing as the chains rattled.
We were both too busy with each other right then, too concerned with his chains, both our heads ducked.
We never saw anyone coming.
But I damn sure felt the hands that grabbed me and yanked me back off my feet.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
