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I shimmy and push my wrists together more until I can feel one of the bracelets. Twisting, I carefully hang onto the cord until the blade is in my hand.
“Got it,” I whisper and get to work cutting through the rope.
I’m about halfway through my ropes when I hear heavy footsteps from up above us.
“Shit,” I whisper.
“Get it balled up as safely as you can in your fist, quick. Pretend you’re still out of it. No matter what they do, stay strong Half-pint and don’t give them anything.”
“Stay strong, yourself,” I whisper back. His grunt tells me he’d heard me.
I let my body slump and work to slow my breathing as I carefully gather up my bracelet, praying I don’t cut myself.
“Any movement?” I hear from outside the door, and my blood runs cold when I recognize Fang’s voice.
“Not a peep,” someone else replies, but I don’t recognize the voice.
“Move,” Fang says.
The door unlocks and then it quickly shuts. I force myself not to react when he steps up close to me. His shoes squeak and I’m guessing he crouches down because the next thing I feel is him lifting my chin slightly. I let my head naturally roll a bit when it feels like it wants to so that I hopefully appear to be zonked out yet.
He lets go of my chin and my head painfully bobs back down. Fuck, did that hurt. He walks over to Andre and must get a similar result because I hear the sound of his steps crossing the room again before the door opens, shuts, and is locked.
Even though my mind screams to start cutting the ropes again, I wait, making sure no one else decides to come back into the room.
We’re not that lucky.
Multiple footsteps walk toward our room and the door is unlocked again.
I gasp when ice water hits me and curse when my wet, heavy hair blocks part of my view, including Andres. Someone else must have helped him carry in the buckets but the door shuts again before I could see who it was.
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauties,” Fang’s voice rings out. I glare at him as I painfully try to catch my breath.
He props his bucket on his hip, cocking his head as he gives me a feral grin. “Miss me, Princess?”
“Not in the slightest,” I grit out.
Fang backhands me, and I bite my tongue to keep my cry from escaping, remembering that he thrives on the sound of pain.
“While we wait for my brothers to get back from sending those pussies on a wild goose chase, I think it’s time we get reacquainted again. While I had wanted to do this to those two pussies you let touch you, I’ll start with your friend Reaper here. Are you screwing him, too?”
Hoping that Fang wouldn’t hurt him more, I answer honestly. “No.”
An evil smile lights up his face. “Good, then you won’t mind if I kill him then.”
I struggle harder, which makes Fang laugh again right before he punches Andre in the face.
“Don’t say any—” Andre says before Fang lands another punch to his face.
“I didn’t give you permission to speak, asshole.”
Fang walks around Andre and I force myself not to look at his hands and draw attention to the ropes.
“Now, before we get to the good stuff, I gotta get a few things out of the way.” He walks to a nearby table and picks up a knife.
Walking back over to Reaper, he starts whistling as he starts cutting off Reaper’s President badge. Both Andre and I struggle harder, but when I feel the ropes loosen a bit more around my wrists; I try not to wretch them around as much so that Fang doesn’t notice. It’s still not loose enough to slip my wrist out, but it’s closer than it was.
Andre’s President patch falls to the floor and in the next sweep of his blade, he slices up the length of his cut.
