Page 81 of Zain

A large crack split the glass. If she tried to open the window, the whole thing would break, possibly causing a lot of noise—not to mention making getting out of the window difficult. She’d end up filleting her flesh.

She examined the old single-pane glass. Breaking it the rest of the way would be easy, but messy. She bent down, grabbed the blanket from the floor, and wrapped it around her fist. Carefully, she knocked along the crack. The glass split even more, and a long triangular piece fell onto the sill.

The sight of the jagged edge made her ripple with excitement. She had a weapon now. Carefully, she picked up the glass, stepped off the bucket,and unraveled the blanket from her fist. After laying the glass on the material, she got back on the bucket and returned the plywood to its position in front of the window. Finally, she took the bucket back to the corner of the room.

She swallowed and stared at the glass. Her only chance at escape was to strike him hard enough to kill. His throat would be the best spot, uncovered and delicate. She picked up the blanket and wrapped it around the wide base of the shard then held out the sharp end.

Oh, yeah. That could do some damage.

Wariness filled her. The moments ahead could determine whether she lived or died. Whether she ever saw Zain again. Her heart swelled as she brought up Zain’s face in her mind’s eye.

If she didn’t succeed, she might not survive this. She’d never be held by him again. Never feel the comfort of his warm body or his gentle hands. He was everything her heart needed, and had she realized it days ago, she’d have told him that.

She’d have risked everything. She’d have even risked hearing he didn’t feel the same way—because now she stared death in the face.

Now, she might never see him again. Never see her family, get married, or have children. Dammit, there was still so much she wanted out of life. Starting with Zain.

Swallowing, she gripped the wrapped end of the glass tighter and slammed her shoulder into thedoor. “Let me out!” she screamed.

Nothing.

Bang!

She struck the old wood again. The hinges jumped. Again, nothing. Great, the asshole had probably left her here to die.

“Hey, moron! I have to pee!”

Bang!

This time the door threatened to give way. Footsteps slammed on the floor above, angry and hurried.

Dana’s lungs expanded and contracted rapidly as he came charging down the stairs. She stood behind the door, her breath coming hard and fast. She pictured his height, envisioned where to strike. If she missed, this could go very, very wrong.

Keys clanked. She gripped the glass, the sharp edges piercing the thin blanket. The door swung open and he stepped through. He came to a halt when he saw the empty spot beneath the window.

Dana lunged and let out a shrill scream, the cry of desperation shaking her vocal cords. He jumped and turned toward her as she drove the sharp end of the blade toward his thick neck. The glass moved across his throat, not penetrating.

Still, blood spurted from his neck, and he clamped his hand over the wound. “Fuck!” he howled.

Another scream wrenched from her throat as she dodged around him. He caught her arm beforeshe made it through the door.

“Fucking bitch!” he spat.

She jammed the glass at him again, and this time the shard went right through the soft tissue near his armpit. He hissed in pain, spit flying from his mouth. She sliced downward and blood rushed forward.

His arm dropped, and he gasped and sputtered as he stared down at the glass wedged in his flesh. Dana turned and ran for the stairs. Her feet slapped against the wooden steps, and her heart pounded in her ears. The top of the stairs seemed to stretch farther and farther away.

She heard movement on the cement downstairs. A cry filled the back of her throat but she gulped it down, not wanting to waste an ounce of energy.

She slammed open the heavy wooden door at the top of the stairs. Her foot caught on the step and her hands and knees banged against the hardwood floor.

Her assailant’s footsteps pounded behind her. She threw a glance over her shoulder. A menacing scowl folded his brow, and his eyes glittered with loathing.

The scream tore itself from her lungs before she could stop it. She hustled to her feet and slammed the door shut, hurtling herself away. She only made it a few paces before it banged open as her captor flung himself onto the main floor.

Dana scampered down the hall, her brainracing as she tried to locate a way out. The long corridor led her into a small kitchen. A back door waited at the bottom of two stairs. She rushed toward it and yanked it open.

Warm fresh air hit her face. Her feet landed on the concrete stoop. She opened her mouth—

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