Page 48 of A Captive Situation

I cursed, seeing I hadn’t left my gun out of reach. I didn’t like risking making a move without it, but I also knew he would’ve grabbed it if it was on me.

God.

He kept fighting.

I squeezed harder.

He landed a few punches before his body went slack.

Finally. Fuck! Breathing hard again, I let him go and his unconscious body slumped out of my hold.

I pressed two fingers to his carotid, and relief went through me. He still had a pulse, so I hadn’t killed him. But then there was the dilemma of what to do when he woke up.

I gave the room another scan.

There were no more chairs.

Chapter Sixteen

Sawyer

I hated Jake. I hated him with every fiber of my being.

He left me needing and panting and begging, and death to Jake. I swore it. Death to him. He locked me in the room, but after he did, the throbbing had been too much. I got myself off as I began plotting my revenge for when Jake would come back.

That was until he stayed gone.

He was gone for hours. Part of that time, I ranted. I planned. There was a time when I calmed down and took a nap because the sunlight was starting to rise outside.

How did I get myself into these situations? Honestly. It was me. Must be me.

Beck and Manda.

Stalking my own cousin.

It was me. I was a magnet for chaos. That’s the only thing that made sense to me, but I could hear my phone going off in the next room.

My mom. My aunts. If I didn’t check in with them, theywouldsend a search party for me. If Jake wasn’t careful, he’d be hunted down and taken out by those three women. His Mafia life had nothing on the Matsen women.

I was beyond listening to what he had said. Use caution, my ass.

Was the contract even real? Was all of this an elaborate ruse? His cousin did seem to target me. Was she in on it too?

Maybe I was being paranoid, but I’d been kidnapped. I figured the first thing someone did in that situation was start telling all sorts of lies to make the kidnappee scared of leaving.Thatmade sense to me.

I just knew one thing at this point. Ineededto get out.

I tried picking the lock. That didn’t work. I tried wedging it open. That didn’t work either. Finally I just started unscrewing everything I could and well, the whole door came off that way. He had a lock bolting it to the doorframe on one side, but not the other. I pulled it open and heaved it to the side, then stood there, panting and sweating. My knees were cramping. My one leg was asleep from how long I had to be in the same position to get that door unscrewed. And my hands were bleeding. I’d cut them a whole bunch and chipped two of my nails. Each time, I’d indulged in screaming. I figured it wouldn’t hurt, so I let loose, really throwing my whole gusto into the screams. I would’ve made any horror movie director proud.

My phone started going again. I hurried across the room, ignoring the pins and needles now zipping up and down my left leg. It was on the table, coming from under a bunch of papers. I rifled through them, finding it and my hand closed around it as I got weepy.

Finally. Something good went my way.

It stopped ringing as soon as I picked it up, but I went through it.

The battery was going to go out soon. I had 5 percent left so I’d need to make it count.

Thirty-nine missed calls.

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