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Wishing there were more trees to use as cover in the sandy backyard, I found a hole in the privacy fence that I could squeeze through. Staying low, I hustled to the nearest window and peeked in.
A kitchen with dirty dishes piled in the sink and a plate with a few crusts of a sandwich left on the counter. More signs of life. I moved to the next window and peered over the edge of the pane. Someone was lying on the bed and with a hiss, I ducked back down. My brain processed what I’d seen. Blonde hair, slender arms. The baggy jeans that I’d last seen on Karine.
I raised my head again, gritting my teeth so hard they were in danger of shattering. I had a clear view of her left hand, shackled to the bed. She was twisted to the side to keep her arm from being pulled out of the socket and her eyes were closed. She wasn’t moving at all, laying much too still on top of the dingy green sheets. My heart nearly stopped. No. I couldn’t be too late.
I stared, unblinking, until I saw her chest rise and fall, then slumped back down below the window. She was here. Alive. And the fact that she was chained up told me in no uncertain terms that she didn’t want to be there. That was all I needed to know. Even if she spit in my face, I was going to get her out.
There was a back door that was locked, and I thought I could easily break the hollow wooden panels or even tear the flimsy thing right off its rusty hinges, but I didn’t know who else was in there with her. Stealth seemed a smarter plan. With my hand on my gun, the safety off, I kept moving around to the front of the house.
The front door was unlocked, and since there was a welcome mat that said ‘Come on in!’ I decided to accept the offer. The door didn’t make a sound and I padded along the carpeted hallway toward the back. The hallway spilled out into a living room, with another hallway on the other side that must lead to the bedroom Karine was in, just based on how small the house was.
The sound of cheering and music rang out from the living room. When I looked around the corner I saw Demian sprawled out on a couch, watching a football game on an old-fashioned television. He had his leg up on the back of the couch and shoveled cheese balls into his mouth, completely engrossed in the game.
Keeping in a low crouch, I made my way below the level of the back of the couch and made it to the other hallway without Demian looking up from whatever team he was rooting for. Once I was around the corner, I straightened up and made a beeline for the only closed door at the end of the hall. The sound of the incessant cheers from the other room made me tense, but I was glad for the noise when I turned the door handle and the hinges creaked as I eased it open.
Standing as still as a stone for a second, Demian didn’t rush around the corner, so I hurried to close myself in the bedroom with Karine. She didn’t move even when I studied the handcuff on her wrist. It looked exactly like what any standard cop would use, so tight it was making her hand a painful shade of beet red. There had to be a key.
I rummaged under the bed, lifted the lamp, and felt around under the stool on one side of her bed. Nothing. I moved to the other side and slid the bedside table drawer out, finally waking her.
I stared at her, feeling a smile take over my face. A series of different emotions crossed hers. I flicker of relief, a shorter flash of happiness, then her eyes went cold and flat, dropping to the gun in my hand. To show her I wasn’t there to make her life worse, I set it on the bedside table and rattled the chain attached to her handcuff.
“Do you know where the key is?” I whispered, glancing at the door.
“No,” she whispered back.
I dropped into a squat to start taking apart the bed frame. I’d carry her out of here attached to a six-foot-long hunk of metal if I had to. I found a loose screw and began twisting it with my fingertips, all while she remained silent, glaring at me. As hard as I wracked my brain, I couldn’t find words that might have made her change her mind about me.
Pulling out one screw and running my hand along the frame for another, I sighed. “I’d give anything to be able to tell you it’s not true,” I whispered. “But I’m done lying to you.”
She didn’t say a word and her dark glare didn’t waver, but I had another screw loose enough to pull it out. A couple more, and I’d be able to take the headboard off the frame and slide the other end of the cuff free.
“Even if you hate me, I’m getting you out of here, Karine,” I told her.
I gripped the headboard and pulled, freeing it from the frame with a grinding clank. I was just about to pull one more bar out of the way and get her loose when Demian sauntered in with his big bowl of cheese balls.
“How hungry are you—” his taunting voice cut off abruptly when he noticed me hard at work, and he scrambled for the gun in his waistband.
I jumped over to where I’d left my own gun, but it was too late. Demian’s pistol was aimed squarely at my head. I held up my hands and moved slowly away from the bed so if he shot me the bullet wouldn’t go astray or ricochet and hit Karine.
“Don’t fucking move,” Demian shouted.
“Okay,” I said, freezing a foot away from the bed.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Karine was continuing to wriggle the handcuff free from the loose bar. If I could get Demian out of the room, it might give her a chance to get out.
Keeping my hands up, I took a tentative step toward him. “Why don’t we settle this like men,” I said, stopping again when he shook the gun at me. Trying to pretend I was unbothered by staring down that dark barrel was harder than I made it look, but as long as he wasn’t pointing it at her, I was going to deal with it.
“You’re reasonable, right?” I asked. “It kind of seems to me like you might be out of a job by now. I’ve got a pretty successful business. I might be able to offer you one. Why don’t we go to the kitchen and pour ourselves a beer and talk it over?”
Demian laughed at me. “Yeah right. Nice try, but I’m not giving up my woman a second time.” He waved the gun again, taking a step closer. Good, let him get close enough that I could wrap my hands around his scrawny neck. “I don’t care if Karine is used goods now,” he continued. “She was always meant to be mine so you can go—”
Demian’s head exploded in a spray of blood, his body collapsing to the floor only a moment later. I whirled around to see Karine had freed herself and had my gun in her hands. She was as steady as a rock, staring at the fresh corpse on the floor. I was not bothered at all by the blood and brains and bits of skull on the wall.
“I’m my own woman,” she muttered.
My hands were still up in the air and I let them fall to my sides, about to thank her and tell her my car was just up the road, but then she turned the gun on me. There was no denying the look in her eyes. She wanted me dead.
That fact hurt more than the realization that I was certainly about to die.
