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Charley gulped, and she tore her eyes from him. This was for real, not a nightmare. She couldn’t just wake up andhavethis odious man be gone.
Fear had an amazing ability to sober a girl up. She was clearheaded and needed to formulate a plan.
A surreptitious scan of the room revealed nothing that looked useful as a weapon besides the fireplace poker. All she’d bought when she and her father had redecorated the living room were throw pillows and knickknacks. Why couldn’t she have secreted a gun under the couch?
Because Daddy hadn’t liked violence. He’d never owned anything more than a hunting rifle, and he’d rarely used that. Though he’d preached to be prepared for any emergency, Charley guessed he hadn’t seen this one coming. That was too bad. Self-defense and shooting lessons would have come in handy about now. It was up to her to improvise with what she had.
She returned her gaze to the man, and into her peripheral vision popped the red fire extinguisher beside him on the fireplace hearth. That had potential. It was hefty, so maybe she could bash him over the head with it.
Yet there was no way she could get it and hit him before he’d know what she was doing and stopped her. But there was another one, around the corner and out of sight on the counter in the kitchen.
Charley visualized that scenario and sadly discovered it wouldn’t work. He was too tall, and it was unlikely she could heave it with enough force to knock him out.
Reggie slugged back the last of the whiskey and held out the glass. “Get me some more. But remember, I’m watching everything you do.”
Charley thought she heard voices outside, but they were indistinct. She stuffed down the hope it could be Dog. He’d made his views quite clear. Besides, it could be neighbors sharing how they spent their day.
“The whiskey is in the kitchen.”
The man nodded. “Don’t even think of trying to escape. I’ll catch you before you get out the door, and you won’t like what happens next. I won’t wait for Nate to come back before I fuck you, and the nice guy sitting here will be gone.”
Bile rose in her throat. Nice guy? Nice guys didn’t hold women hostage to rape later. No matter what it took, she was getting out of here.
A memory surfaced and a plan unveiled in Charley’s imagination. Daddy had made her practice pulling the extinguisher pin and squeezing the lever, spraying white powder toward an imaginary fire over and over until they had emptied the canister. She could discharge a fire extinguisher in her sleep.
Charley rose from the love seat and took the tumbler from his extended hand. His eyes narrowed as he studied her, so she gave him a slight smile.
With measured steps, she crossed the living room and rounded the corner into the small kitchen. She stopped to listen for his footsteps but heard none.
“Hurry up,” he shouted, obviously still in the chair. “I’m thirsty.”
Charley lifted the CO2 fire extinguisher, pulled the pin, and raised the spray nozzle. She positioned herself where he had to come into the kitchen before he would see her. It was now or never.
“Could you help me please?” Charley laced her voice with frustration. “The ice tray wants to hold on to the cubes.”
“Jeez, woman. It’s a simple task.”
The heavy clomp of his boots on the hardwood floors let her know he was coming. She pointed the nozzle at the height she thought his head would be.
He rounded the corner. “You too weak—”
Charley aimed for his face and squeezed the lever. White powder blasted from the extinguisher, and she made sure she got his eyes, nose, and ugly, opened mouth.
She didn’t wait to see his reaction. She threw the extinguisher at him and tore off for the back door. By the time she reached it, the man was coughing and screaming. Only seconds later, she had the deadbolt turned and the door open.
A vicious tug on her hair ripped a handful from her scalp. She cried out but didn’t stop running down the back stairs and around the house to the driveway.
As she reached the front of the cottage, the roar of motorcycles crawled down her street, followed by a white sedan. She stopped dead and couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Nate’s SUV was still in her driveway, and Dog was there, fighting with Nate.
Nate threw a punch that whipped Dog’s head to the side. Dog had blood spattered across his face and clothes.
Oh god. They had to stop. Nate would kill him with that move he’dbragged about. Charley ran across the yard to stop the fight only to be grabbed by Cutter.
“Stay back, babe,” he said in a no-nonsense voice. “Your man ain’t finished yet.”
Charley struggled against his hold. “You don’t understand. Nate will kill him!”
“You got so little faith in Dog?” Cutter’s voice was laced with disgust. “Nate doesn’t stand a chance against him. Maybe you don’t deserve him after all.”
