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“Did they drug me?!” She tries to get up, then catches her head in her hands. “Why does my head hurt so much? My hands are tied.”
I give her a moment to take it all in.
She stares into my eyes, her gaze revealing the cogs turning in her head. Then she squirms, trying to do something with her hands.
“Leather jacket is too tight,” she says. “Put your hands in my bra and get the lighter out. On the left.”
You don’t have to ask me twice.
She bends toward me, revealing the pale tops of her breasts. I reach in, running my fingers across her nipple as I fish out the small lighter.
“I haven’t seen you smoke recently. Figured you’d stopped,” I say.
“Give me that.” She takes the lighter impatiently and pulls my hands to her lap, letting the flame dance on the zip tie, so close to my skin, I can feel a lick of pain.
Instinctively, I pull away as the tie gets too hot. Tanya rolls her eyes.
“We have to get out of here. It’s almost done.” She holds my fingers with one of her hands as she continues to melt the plastic. Her skin is soft and cool, nothing like the clammy feeling of my palms.
“I’m trying to stop smoking. It’s not an easy habit to drop,” she says in a soothing voice. “Why are you flinching? I thought fire was your thing.”
A smile is playing on her lips now.
“I tend to be a lot farther away.” I smile back, ignoring the blister forming on the underside of my wrist.
A second later, the zip tie slackens and my hands are free.
Chapter 24
Ben’s hands are steady as he holds the flame between my wrists. He was shaking mere seconds ago, not liking the way I accidentally burned him, but the moment the lighter was in his fingers, he became deathly calm.
He’s not taking his eyes off my zip tie, and I’m not taking my eyes off him. The duality of him tugs in a pleasant way on that secret place between my legs—he’s so normal, so gentle and soft; and yet, he’s happy with any kind of fire and explosive.
As the zip tie melts between my wrists, I imagine for a moment how he would react if the second my hands are free, I tackled him to the ground, wrapped my arms around him, and pressed my mouth to his.
“Done,” he says and instantly moves to the zip tie at my feet. “What’s the plan?”
“Pick the lock? Scream for help?” I look around the empty room. There is nothing here we can use as a weapon. There are no windows to climb through and no vents. Just a door, walls, and shelves.
“We’re in the middle of nowhere. Do you have your phone on you?” Ben asks.
“It was in my bag, and my bag is probably still somewhere in the parking lot.” I sigh.
The moment I’m free, I go to the door and press my ear to it. Faint male voices outside inspire the beginnings of a plan.
While Ben is melting his leg zip tie, I rummage in my cleavage, pulling one of my underwires.
I try and fail to poke it through the keyhole. It’s not thin enough.
“Ugh.” I throw my hands in the air. “Sophie makes it look so easy.”
“Maybe if we kick it together long enough, it’ll open?” Ben stands up, sliding the lighter in his pocket.
I spot a big black stain in the middle of the room.
“What is that?”
“Ink. I used it to wake you up,” Ben says.
