Page 122 of Enthrall Climax
He sniffed and then wolfed it down, wanting more. I broke off another piece and threw it. In less than a minute, I had my hand on the door knob.
It was unlocked.
I lay the rest of the meat down, then slipped outside and closed the door behind me. Barefoot, I sprinted toward the gate. At the front of the house were several potted trees. I dug around the base of one and ripped out the small trunk, spilling the soil, and then laid it on its side. With a shove, I had the pot rolling toward the gate. With another heave I had it upside down. Standing on it, I was able to reach for the top of the gate and hoist myself up and over, dangling.
I stared down at the ground, wrestling with fear. If I fell wrong, I could break a leg. My arms felt the strain of my weight, my fingers burned.
Pascal barked.
I slid down and landed badly, pain wracking me from feet to shins as I rolled on the ground. I lay there for a minute, catching my breath.
I forced myself up, gritting my teeth in agony while staring at a road that could lead to freedom. When the feeling of agony lifted enough for me to begin hobbling, I headed down the tree-lined road. Trying to shake off the lingering terror, I sped up until I was sprinting.
A motorbike came to life and the wooden gate opened.
My feet carried me faster along the asphalt, but I knew I’d make it if I could just reach the bend ahead and then bolt into the woodland. With heavy gasps and aching limbs, I fought the urge to glance back.
The bike roared by in a gust of wind and skidded to a stop ten feet in front of me—cutting me off.
Another bike zoomed by in a flash, almost knocking me over. It skidded to a stop farther down. Both helmet-wearing men were looking in my direction. They dismounted their bikes.
I was so close. All I had to do was get by them…
I bolted left and went for it, but one of the men leaped right and grabbed me from behind. I struggled in his ironclad grasp, kicking my legs and wriggling to get free.
A flash of bright headlights shone our way and I shielded my eyes from the glare, my chest so tight it hurt to breathe. A silver sports car pulled up and idled a few feet away.
Chastain climbed out of the driver’s seat and strolled around to the passenger door, opening it wide.
“I want to go home!” I burst out.
“You are.”
The men dragged me toward him.
“You’ve made a terrible mistake, Mia,” he said.
“You can’t do this to me!”
“When we get back, put her in the dungeon,” he ordered coldly.
My thoughts fractured as I was shoved into the car. When we pulled up to the chateau I was dragged out, kicking and screaming.
A slap across my face silenced me.
They manhandled me through long, cold hallways and down a winding staircase.
I was shoved into a musty cell that smelled of fear. I saw a bed sparsely covered with sheets. I heard the clanging of the door as it was slammed shut.
Then blackness enveloped me.
After a while, my vision adjusted to the darkness and I gripped the bars, screaming into the echoing chamber until my voice gave out.
Hours went by. I paced like a caged animal. Eventually, I flopped onto the bed and felt the assault of the springs beneath my spine.
Eventually I heard a noise and raised my head off the lumpy pillow.
The silhouette of a man loomed before me as he entered the cell and locked the gate behind him. He closed the gap between us.
