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Grant was fairly certain the tiny woman was incapable of doing any of the things she was describing with such disturbing detail, but figured it was the thought that counted.
Less than twenty minutes later, they were driving down the road, Tati with a satisfied smile on her face while reaching into the Pringles can that sat between them.
“Feel better?” Grant asked, thankful he had the foresight to bring an emergency stash of food for his lady.
“Much,” she responded with a contented sigh.
In the back of the cruiser, they could hear the doctor’s muffled screams thanks to the gag she had expertly applied, his body rolling into the sides of the trunk whenever Tati took a rather jagged, sharp turn.
Grant figured if he was going to lose his job and damage his sterling reputation, she very well might be the one woman worth doing it for.
* * *
For once,Mia vowed to follow parental orders, bolting past the room where the men were forcibly strapping her dad to a hospital gurney. She stifled a sob, the sight making her chest grow tight. But she kept on moving as instructed, up the basement stairs and into the kitchen.
Just as her dad surmised, guards were stationed at each exit. One standing beside the side kitchen door. She easily bypassed him as he turned to look out the rectangular window of the door.
For the first time that she could remember, she was thankful for her small frame, moving quickly between the unfamiliar pieces of furniture until she made it to the staircase that led to the second story. Remembering her dad’s instructions, she bypassed the stairs, making her way toward the office.
Turning a corner, she bumped into a statue of a naked woman covered in what looked to be gold foil and caught it by the stumps of its severed arms before toppling over.
Did her mother redecorate? If so, she totally went another direction.
Righting the statue, she rubbed her sweaty hands against her thighs and suddenly wished she had her necklace hanging protectively against her throat.
She slowly opened the door to what used to be her dad’s office and peeked inside. Crap, it was empty. Making her way back down the hallway, she passed the front doors, oddly bereft of security, and back to the staircase.
Once reaching the top of the stairs, she eyed another guard, thankfully, before he noticed her. She lunged into the folds of a set of curtains, panting heavily, her heart pounding. Unfortunately, he was standing in front of the bedroom door she needed to get into.
How in the world was she going to get past him and into the bedroom he was guarding? She sent a small prayer to her dad, the one in Heaven, asking him for help as she looked past the curtain drapes for something, anything.
Next to her, sitting on top of a grotesque creepy gold table, she noticed a strange metal doodad in the shape of a ball she assumed was meant as decoration but looked stupid instead.
As soon as this ordeal was over, she was going to have a serious talk with her mom about what constituted current interior design trends.
She nabbed the ball, felt the weight of it, and considered how best to cause a distraction at the same time keeping the guard from determining the cause.
Finding her mark, she bent her legs, lowering her body, and rolled the ball to the far end of the hallway overlooking the large room below. She aimed for the far-left corner, hoping it would veer even more to the left and fall over the edge, causing a distraction once it hit the floor below on the far side of where she was hiding.
She held her breath as the ball almost made it and then stopped at the very edge as opposed to toppling over.
Dang it.
Glancing at the guard the size of a barn, she found him leaning against the door with his eyes closed as if finding it difficult to stay awake, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
She checked out the garish table again. Luckily, there was another weird ball that had been sitting beside the one she grabbed, but smaller, so she picked it up, bent down, and tried again.
With a little less heft, the smaller ball rolled much faster toward the one sitting precariously on the ledge, and she prayed she didn’t use too much force. To her relief, the smaller ball made its way to the larger one, and once it reached it, it barely nudged it over the side.
She silently thanked Oliver for teaching her how to play cornhole, sharpening her hand-eye coordination.
Falling back against the curtains, just as the sound of the ball hit from the other side of the room, far below, the guard seem to gather his bearings. Pulling his weapon, he strode past where Mia was hiding, over to the staircase and looked down.
Eventually deciding to investigate what caused the commotion below. On high alert, holding his gun in both hands by his ear, he skittered down the staircase.
Mia ran to the door, looking over her shoulder and praying her mother was on the other side.
Turning the knob, the door opened, and she was facing her other uncle. Flynn. He latched on to her elbow and pulled her inside.
