Page 69 of Chief's Addiction

“He has nothing to do with whatever beef you have with Mason.”

Spike’s eyes narrowed. “Mason, huh?”

Before I knew what was happening, he reared back and let his fist fly. It connected with my face and stars danced in my vision. I cried out in pain as I fell backward onto the hard concrete floor.

Through a haze of tears, I watched as Spike pulled handcuffs from his back pocket. He roughly grabbed my wrists, securing them in front of me. Then did the same to Beckett who was still trying to recover.

“When I come back,” Spike said, heading for the door, “we’re going to have some real fun.”

The door slammed behind him, the sound of a lock clicking into place echoing in the small room.

I crawled over to Beckett, my own pain forgotten as I rushed to check him over. “Beck?”

He blinked up at me.

“Hey, stay with me. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he managed, though the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth suggested otherwise. “You’re the one who looks like hell.”

A humorless laugh bubbled up in my throat. “Thanks. Just what every girl wants to hear.”

Beckett pushed himself up, wincing. “What are we going to do? He’s going to kill us.”

I looked down at the handcuffs around my wrists, then back at the door. “No, he’s not. Because we’re getting the hell out of here before he comes back.”

“How? We’re locked in, and these cuffs?—”

I twisted my hands, pressing my thumb hard against the base of my palm, gritting my teeth as I forced my hand through the too-small opening of the cuff. It hurt like a bitch, scraping skin off my knuckles, but a moment later my hand popped free.

“Holy shit,” Beckett breathed. “How did you do that?”

I gave him a grim smile as I started working on the other cuff. “Most big brothers teach their little sisters how to knee boys in the nuts.”

I got my other hand free.

“Mine taught me how to knee boys in the nutsANDa hundred other crazy survival things I didn’t realize would ever come in handy.”

Tossing the cuffs onto the floor, I reached up and pulled a bobby pin from my messy bun and bent it into shape.

“Let’s get you out of those.” I moved closer to Beckett’s side. It took a minute of fiddling with the lock, but eventually I heard the satisfying click as it released.

“Now what?” Beckett asked, rubbing his wrists.

I scanned the room, my eyes landing on a small window set high in the wall, close to the ceiling. It was tiny, maybe eighteen inches square, but it was also our only option.

“That’s our exit.” I pointed up.

Beckett followed my finger, frowning. “It’s like ten feet up. And too small.”

“Have you got a better idea?”

He shook his head.

“Then give me a boost.”

Beckett positioned himself beneath the window, bracing his back against the wall and lacing his fingers together to create a foothold. I stepped into his hands, wobbling slightly as he lifted me up.

“Higher,” I urged, straining to reach the window.

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