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Tears, unexpected, sprang to my eyes as I realized how different my life was now.
The last time I found myself in a situation like this, there was no hope of a rescue, there was no token given from a friend to help me escape.
Sway and the guys might still come in, guns blazing, and save me.
But if they didn’t, Morgaine had given me a means to get out myself.
I wondered what my move was here, how fast the tablet would dissolve if I shoved it in someone’s mouth. Or would it be better to crush it to a powder and kind of… push it into his mouth.
Curiosity piqued, I scratched off the tiniest bit and went to the sink, glad to see water coming from the faucet this time.
Dehydration wasn’t in my future, at least.
I dropped the powder in a corner, then got a droplet of water on my finger, and dropped it on the powder.
It was gone in seconds.
I imagined the whole pill would work similarly.
That would make life easier.
Maybe he would manage to spit out some. But there was no way to get it all back out. And I imagined if Morgaine had given it to me as a source of protection, she had distilled whatever poison was in it to the most lethal level.
Hopefully, it was fast-acting because I knew Cain Roth would and could do an extreme amount of damage to me in a short amount of time if he knew he’d been poisoned.
I went back to my bed, taking the necklace, and snapping the fragile chain. Not sure what else to do with the other beads, I put a few in my pocket. In case anyone checked my clothing and found the one tablet there. This way, I could at least claim that the brutes had broken my necklace when they’d grabbed me. Keep their suspicions low until I was ready to act.
Tablet in the mouth.
Grab his gun.
His keys.
Make my way out while he choked on his own blood or vomitted to death or whatever punishment Morgaine had in mind for him. I hoped whatever it was, it was incredibly painful and terrifying. If ever there was a man on Earth who deserved that sort of death, it was Cain Roth.
Any man who got in my way would get a bullet or two for their sins as well.
Then I’d take their guns and keep up the process.
Yes, there were the women to worry about, locked helplessly in their cells. But I was no use to them until I got myself free.
Then I could call in the tip like I’d done the last time. Get them out with people who would get them help.
Then it was over.
Over over.
No more looking over my shoulder, no more running, no more safe houses.
Sure, there might still be nightmares. There might always be nightmares. But I would know when I woke that there was no way something like that would ever happen to me again.
I was still sitting there, thinking about how much had changed in so short a time when I heard footsteps outside of the door, pausing, then pushing the door open.
I hadn’t been expecting him so soon.
But there he was.
Cain Roth.
Several years older, and his hairline was proof enough of the passage of time. There was a sagginess in his jaw that hadn’t been there before, with a slight hangover waistline.
His eyes were as cold as ever, though.
“Murphy, my dear, you have been a hard woman to get in touch with,” he said in that calm, collected tone. Like we were two old friends just catching up over a cup of coffee.
“People I want to find me have had no problem,” I said, chin lifting, knowing that he liked that I didn’t cower. Likely because he wanted the honor of breaking me. But this was a game I could play. I’d been practicing for years, using the coldness as a shield to keep everyone from getting too close.
“People like that… biker?” Cain asked, spitting out that last word like it was something that tasted bad on his tongue.
“He found me because you made me late on his contract,” I said. “So, I guess, if you don’t like him in my life, you only have yourself to blame.”
To that, his brow quirked up as he walked over to the chair, lowering himself down as though he had all the time in the world, like I was no threat to him.
Little did he know.
He undid the button before sitting, an action that kicked back the sides of his suit just enough for me to see that he had not only one, but two holsters on with guns tucked inside.
Good.
That would be useful.
“The years have not dulled that spirit of yours, I see.”
Despite his best efforts.
“What do you want, Cain?” I asked, feigning boredom as I carefully tried to catalog everything about him. Every small gesture. Everywhere his gaze was moving.
