Page 79 of A Pen Pal for Christmas

I nodded, keeping my tone as steady as I could manage even though I wasn’t sure which of those two options was the lesser of two evils. “Okay. Then… can I at least have some water? Please? My head’s killing me, and I think that stuff you used on the rag messed me up.”

He tilted his head, studying me, and I held my breath.

Come on. Just go.

After a long, excruciating pause, he shrugged. “Fine. I think I’ve got a bottle in the bedroom. But don’t try anything stupid.”

I nodded quickly, the urgency of his response a double-edged sword. “Got it. Nothing stupid.”

Rex stood, sliding the gun back into his waistband as he moved toward the hall. The second he was gone, I snapped into action.

I shifted on the floor, twisting my hands behind my back, feeling the rough edges of the bindings dig into my skin. The life hack videos I’d watched flooded back—pull tight, create friction, use your legs if you have to.

The only problem was… I didn’t have time.

Instead, the only thing I could do was heave myself around, twisting before pulling my legs through the loop of my bound arms. If I had to flee with my wrists tied up, at least they’d be in front.

Not taking the time to bask in that minor success, I scrambled to my feet, my bare toes gripping the cold floorboards. My head spun, the aftereffects of whatever Rex had drugged me with still lingering in my system, but I forced myself to push through it.

The broken glass near the back door glinted under the faint moonlight, but I didn’t pause to think about how much it would hurt to walk through it. I just ran.

Sharp, searing pain hit the soles of my feet as I tore open the door and bolted from the house onto the screened-in porch.I almost stumbled, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Not when every second counted.

The cold air hit me like a slap when I launched myself out of the porch and onto the grass below, stealing my breath. But it also cleared my head, jolting me into sharper focus. The backyard stretched out ahead of me, a patch of overgrown grass and weeds ending at the edge of a dark tree line.

Safety. Maybe.

Just make it to the trees.

I sprinted, ignoring the screaming protests of my feet, my lungs, my entire body. But the grass was slick with frost, and I stumbled, catching myself just before falling flat on my face.

Behind me, I heard a yell. Rex.

I didn’t look back. Didn’t dare. Every instinct screamed at me to run faster, push harder. I was halfway to the trees when my dress snagged on something—maybe a branch, maybe my own injured feet—and I went down.

My bound hands hit the ground first, my face following, and the shock of the fall made stars cross my vision as the wind was knocked out of me.

I scrambled to get up, but it was too late. Heavy footsteps pounded behind me, and then hands—strong, rough—grabbed my arms, yanking me upright.

His fingers dug into my arms, and between the sting from the glass in my feet and the bite of the cold air, I couldn’t breathe.

“Nothing stupid, huh?” Rex growled, his voice low and hard.

I twisted against him, every ounce of adrenaline I had left surging to the surface. “Let me go!”

He hauled me against him, and my legs flailed, the torn hem of my dress tangling around my ankles. But then, as he turned to drag me toward the house, everything shifted.

They appeared out of the darkness like ghosts. Two figures moving with purpose, cutting through the shadows between usand the house behind them. My breath hitched, and I barely managed to hold in a sob.

Hudson. And Tommy.

They’d ditched their suit jackets, but they’d clearly come straight from the ball. I couldn’t imagine how they’d known where to look for me, but I didn’t care. Relief flooded my system in a way that felt like another round of drugs, and all I could think was that I was glad they were here.

But then I registered the way Rex’s entire body tensed behind me, and part of me wasn’t so glad anymore. This was what he’d wanted. What he’d planned for.

I felt the shift in him immediately—his grip on me tightened, and his hand jerked toward his waistband. “Stay back!” he barked, dragging me in front of him like a shield.

I was in the middle of recalling a video about kicking my way out of a hold like this when the cold press of metal against my temple froze me in place. I didn’t move, afraid to so much as breathe.

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