Page 31 of Winter’s Heart (Three of Hearts #1)

Linstead pushed back in his chair, but didn’t rise, content to stay seated, arrogant enough to think she wouldn’t be a problem. Miller wasn’t so complacent, and though Nikki had her full focus on Linstead, she saw the agent take another step toward her in her peripheral vision.

Linstead spoke. “Like I said, I’m really sorry, but I have my orders. If it were up to me—”

“That’s all bullshit,” Nikki screeched. “You’re lying. You have to let me out of here. I need to get out of here.” Miller moved closer again, and Jacob stood up from where he’d been lounging against the countertop.

It was now or never.

Nikki pushed the table hard toward Linstead, and at the same time Jacob took Miller in a grapple hold around the neck. Then all hell broke loose. Nikki screamed something incoherent and made a dash for the door behind her that led to the washroom.

She heard Linstead curse, then yell, “Bakshi, get in here.” The small part of her mind that wasn’t overtaken by near hysteria registered that he must be calling in the new agent from the front, which meant she only had a few seconds.

It was a quirk of her house that not many people knew about.

Unlike most other wash rooms which normally led straight out to the rear door, hers had a second door cut into it, exiting back into the hallway right next to her bedroom.

The door had already been there when she’d first moved in, and at first she thought about filling it in.

But then she noticed how useful it was, because instead of having to detour all the way down the passage and right through the kitchen when she carried her load of clothes from her bedroom to the washer, she could just duck through the semi-secret entrance.

Most people would assume that the door hid a closet behind it, and wouldn’t give it a second glance.

Now, she lunged for the concealed door, yanking it open and letting herself into the hallway.

At the other end, the front entrance was open, and a dark figure loomed in the doorway; Bakshi.

The sounds of a scuffle emanated from the kitchen as Jacob contended with Linstead and Miller, trying to block them from getting to her.

She had only seconds to complete her mission.

Her socks slipped on the polished wooden floors, and she cursed her lack of thought about her unsuitable footwear as she scrambled to open the door to her bedroom.

Loud footsteps boomed on the floorboards behind her.

She raced around her bed in the middle of the room, almost colliding with her chest of drawers as she skidded on the shiny boards again.

Crashing into the little table that sat beneath her window, she sent two picture frames flying, praying they wouldn’t break as they hit the floor.

Her fingers unfastened the window lock, and she threw it open, climbing up onto the table and swinging one leg up over the windowsill.

She was almost free; she’d almost made it.

As soon as she cracked the window open, she could hear some kind of alarm sound in the house, but she ignored it and tried to swing her other leg out the opening.

Then a muscular arm came around her waist, hauling her inside and tossing her onto the bed as if she weighed nothing.

“Where do you think you’re going, missy?

” The large man she’d seen in the doorway now loomed over her, but didn’t touch her again.

Linstead appeared out of breath, his hair tousled and out of place.

Where was Jacob? Perhaps he was still wrestling with Miller.

She hoped he was okay. But there was no time to consider him; they were both playing a part, and she needed to complete hers.

“Let me go. I want out. You have to let me go,” she wailed incessantly. Lashing out with her feet, she landed a kick squarely in the big man’s groin and heard a satisfying howl of pain. That bit hadn’t been rehearsed, but she was quite proud of her quick thinking.

Now she just needed to execute the last part of their plan.

With an athletic leap that impressed even her, she flew off the bed and plowed into Linstead, trying to push past him.

For some unknown reason—perhaps he was still off balance from his dash from the kitchen—she crash tackled her way into him, knocking him to the floor, and then she was in the hallway, with the wide-open front exit beckoning to her.

She could be out of that door and down the steps before anyone caught her. Run across the road and knock on her neighbors, Steve and Heather’s, door. Steve would be home from work by now; he’d protect her.

She could be free.

But that wasn’t the plan. And she needed to stick to the plan.

Because even if she got free, Jacob would be left behind.

A loud grunt of pain sounded from the kitchen, and she recognized it as Jacob, just as the back door burst open and she heard booted feet thumping on the floorboards.

Linstead had regained his feet and was reaching for her.

Jacob would be overpowered in a second, possibly hurt or beaten if she didn’t do something.

Just as Linstead’s iron fist clamped around her bicep, Nikki crumpled to the floor in a dead faint.