Page 131 of Traces Of You

But if she stayed she wouldn’t survive here either.

She slid back down, dropping the rest of the sandwich onto the plate. Four bites had been three too many. Quietly, she pulled out her knife and worked at the ropes around her ankles, cutting just enough to loosen them. Not enough to raise suspicion, but enough that, with a burst of strength, she could break free and run when the moment came.

She did the same with her hands, turning the knife around and hiding it in her palms cutting that way. Then she closed the knife and hid it inside her jeans again, but this time hooked it by the button of her jeans so she could reach it faster when the time came.

The sounds of the TV behind the door and the rats running on wheels in the cages must have lulled her to sleep, because the next thing she heard was shouting.

“Why the hell is there a sheriff’s car coming down the driveway?” someone shouted.

“I’ve got it!” Randy yelled. “Everyone relax and act normal.”

Ford. It had to be.

The door to her room opened, Lyle coming in. “Don’t make a noise.”

She slipped her hand in and grabbed the knife without him noticing. As he reached to shove the rag back into her mouth, she lunged, blade out, plunging it into his side. At that same moment, her arms broke free of the restraints… and a knock sounded at the door.

She started to scream as she snapped her feet apart and ran toward the open door.

Bobby grabbed her as Clay got Randy in some hold and had him restrained and then out on the floor in no time. Ford’s gun was drawn while he charged her.

She stomped on Bobby’s foot, shoved her elbow into his gut and tried to slam her head back to break free.

She was nearly to Ford when he fired at Bobby. Then more shots rang out from all directions. Ford’s body jolted, and her heart stopped as she saw the man she loved stumble.

He got to her, covering her body, just as Clay turned and shot Lyle who was tripping into the room holding his side, a gun in the other hand.

She looked around at the bodies lying like destruction and disease in the room.

The only one she cared about was the man holding her tight, who rolled to the side and clutched his leg.

“You’re bleeding,” she screamed.

“Fucker got me in the leg,” Ford said. Blood was seeping out faster than it should be in her mind.

Clay pulled his shirt off, tore it into shreds and tied it around Ford’s thigh in quick efficient movements. “Good thing his aim isn’t as good as mine. You’re going to be fine.”

“Asshole,” Ford said, but his voice was weak. “Clay?”

“Yeah. I’m here.”

“Take care of Reenie.” His eyes shut.

“Don’t pass out on me,” Clay yelled. He was moving frantically to stop the flow of blood. “Call an ambulance!”

Police were swarming in now. It felt like hours had passed, but it might have been less than a minute since they’d arrived.

They were rushing to Ford and pulling her off of him.

The sight of him on the floor bleeding had everything going black around her.

35

SECOND GUESSING WAS USELESS

Ford fought through the drug-induced haze, managing to crack one eye open only to squeeze it shut again when the light pierced through, sharp and unforgiving.

Where was he?