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He reached into his back pocket and removed a switchblade, flicking it open with one twist of his hand.
I recoiled.
A puff of satisfaction streamed out his nose as he approached. He crouched in front of me and lifted the blade to my throat, pressing the edge against my skin. I tilted away, but he kept his hand steady.
“You try anything funny and I won’t hesitate, you hear me?”
My nod was almost imperceptible, but he lowered his hand between my ankles, slicing through the ties at my feet. Cold air kissed the burns on my skin. I held in the relief because the moment I let go, I’d pee.
“Let’s go.”
“Washroom?” I whispered.
“Upstairs.”
Chad grabbed my arm and yanked me to the first door, then through the next. He didn’t bother locking the one behind us or slowing as we scaled a staircase. We emerged from the basement into an old bar. Stale cigarette smell hung in the air. Yellowed newspapers covered the front windows, letting through late afternoon air, and I recognized the place beside my salon. It would have been a perfect addition to my business.
“The washroom is that way.” He pointed to a door.
“It’d be quicker if I got these off. You said you’d get them off when we leave.”
“Manage with them or piss yourself.”
Shit.
“They’re cutting through my skin.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Chad, you also said—”
I stopped when I saw him march over to the bar, grab a roll of duct tape off the counter, and pull a piece off.
“No, no…”
I took the last breath in as he stuck the tape over my lips.
Fucking asshole.
“You have two minutes, and then we leave.” He pointed to the bathroom again. I walked with caution, eyeing the side door I knew led to my salon on the other side. The chance it was unlocked was slim, but it was still a chance. I switched my route from the bathroom at the last minute, and launched for the connecting door. I turned around, back to the door, and gripped the handle, watching Chad’s face turn bright red.
“Don’t you fucking dare!”
I twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open. The beautiful sound of an alarm blared through the building. Chad grabbed me, twisted my arm, and pinned me to the wall. He pushed his full body against mine, his brute strength forcing my limbs to comply as he secured my wrists tighter.
I cried out through the duct tape. At this rate, he’d cut off my hands.
“That’s a good girl. You’re not so different from me after all, are you, Gracie?”
His cheek pressed to mine, holding my head firm against the wall. I recoiled at the smell of his disgusting breath.
“You’re as feisty as all the Hartleys. That’s good. Means our sons will flourish. Have I ever told you how much I love feisty women?”
God, he stank worse than a dog.
“But do you know what I love more? Breaking them.”
Chills ran down my spine. He grabbed me by my arm and pushed open the back alley door.
