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I shifted my leg the tiniest bit, finding them bound just like my wrists. Rough, scratchy twine dug into my ankles too, and I gathered that whoever had taken me wasn’t interested in letting me go. If I wanted my freedom, I was going to have to fight my way out.
Resigned, I opened my eyes.
There was a lone man sitting across from me in a wooden chair. He leaned back so that only the two back legs were touching the floor, his expression cocky.
He’d taken his mask off.
My stomach roiled with bile, knowing that if he was letting me see his face, he was probably going to kill me. His dark brown eyes slid over me, pausing on my breasts.
I swallowed hard, knowing that nothing more than a pair of panties and the thin fabric of my white cotton nightgown were covering my body. In this light, he could probably see the dusky rose of my areolas right through it.
From what I could tell, we were in a small cabin in the woods somewhere. Maybe he’d brought me north, but there was no telling exactly where we were from the limited information at my disposal. The faucet leaked and there was a small fridge, which told me there was at least some power connected to this place. Most of the furniture seemed to be hewn by hand. I guessed that maybe this was a hunter’s cabin of sorts, or maybe just a place meant for camping.
My gaze locked with the man sitting at the table, his piercing brown eyes scanning me with an intense scrutiny that sent a shiver down my spine. He exuded an air of deadly confidence, his presence commanding the room. Dressed in sleek, black attire that clung to his lean frame, he seemed like a shadow given form. His dark hair framed a face chiseled with sharp angles. A subtle smirk played on his lips. Every movement he made was deliberate and controlled, betraying the lethal precision of an assassin honed by years of training.
He wasn’t as big as I had thought he was last night, but he still had at least fifty pounds of muscle on me. One on one, I probably couldn’t beat him in a fight. I’d taken some self-defense classes in the past, but the maneuvers were foggy, and none of them involved being tied to a chair.
In silence, I shifted my wrists, testing the tightness of my bonds. There was a little give in the rope, maybe just enough to slide my slim wrists out if I worked it enough. I started slipping my arms back and forth, trying to loosen the rope while keeping the rest of my body fully still.
“I must admit, you’re the youngest one I’ve ever been contracted to take care of. How old are you anyway?” he questioned thoughtfully. His voice carried with it a bit of unexpected warmth, not nearly as sinister as I imagined it would be.
“Twenty-one.”
The moment the words left my mouth, something else hit me.
“Christ. Old enough to drink.”
“It’s my birthday, actually,” I murmured miserably.
He shook his head in disgust. “I was offered a shitload of money for you,” he muttered, sounding awfully unsure of himself.
“You’re a hitman, aren’t you?” I asked, my voice sullen.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he looked away, confirming my suspicions without saying anything at all. He reached inside his thick black coat and pulled out a gun. I stiffened, immediately trying to loosen the rope around my wrists, but he didn’t point it at me. He placed it on the table.
“Usually, my targets are men. Big time CEOs. Government figures. Jealous family members arguing over an inheritance which can be more easily solved with a bullet in between the eyes. Once, it was a woman, but she knew I was coming and took her own life before I could get to her. Never have I had to look a girl like you in the eyes. The money she offered would set me up for life, but I don’t know if it’s worth it,” he rambled, his indecision painted all over his face.
“She?”
I didn’t really need to ask who. I knew who was responsible for this.
“Everything was set up for me on a silver platter. She told me all about your trip, made sure there were records to follow. You would disappear on your hike and never come back. She’d be free of you.”
I swallowed hard. I had thought my adoptive mother’s jealousy was mostly harmless, but I could see now that I’d been dead wrong.
My death would put her back in the spotlight, making her someone to be sought after, adored, and pitied. She’d put on a front to organize a massive search for me, and the press would eat it up. Search parties would commence, but they wouldn’t find me. Even if they found my body, she would still probably be invited to every talk show. She might even get a book deal.
I bit my lip and dropped my gaze to the floor. He moved and my eyes flicked up, watching him pick up the gun and then place it back down like it had scalded his fingertips.
“I don’t think I can do this,” he whispered.
I kept quiet, watching him closely. With a scowl, he pushed up off the table and started pacing the room. He’d left the gun on the table. The bonds around my wrists had loosened up quite a bit and I shifted them back and forth a little faster. Eventually, I was able to free one arm, but I stalled on the other.
I didn’t want the rope to fall to the floor and give away the fact that I was partially free, so I slowly slid it down my wrist until I could grasp it loosely in my hand.
Eventually, he stopped and stared at me. I stiffened, appraising him. He looked like he’d settled on a decision, and when he came striding towards me, I acted. I tipped the chair to the left, smashing on the ground as I curled forward and slipped the rope around my ankles off the legs of the chair. Free, I scurried back, and he stopped short.
“No. Wait. I wasn’t going to do anything,” he exclaimed, holding his hands up.
