Page 24 of Leverage

“Shh,” he ordered, pressing his ear against the door.

After a few minutes, he cracked the door open and looked in the direction of the kitchen. He nodded for me to follow him and then dragged me down the long hallway and back into his room.

With the door closed, he whirled around. “What were you thinking? His voice boomed through the room making me jump.

“What do you mean?” I whimpered, taking a step back. His change in demeanor was jarring.

His eyes flashed. “Slapping his hand away, yelling like that?” He ripped his hand through his curly hair, tampering down his voice until it was even. “What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I didn’t want him to fucking touch me!” I let my anger bubble over. As if it was somehow my fault that the creep tried to lay his hands on me.

“You’re going to get yourself killed like an idiot.” He stepped forward, pointing a finger at me. “Remember your place here.”

I let out an exacerbated sigh, “you reminded me.” Unable to contain the emotion, my voice broke.

I just don’t want to pay the doc for another useless visit.His own words had made it abundantly clear. No matter what kindness I was paid, no matter how much I saw behind the curtain, there would be no confusion.

His expression softened. He reached out for me but I backed away, ripping myself from his hold.

“Don’t touch me,” I whispered. For a moment, I had lost myself. For just a sliver of time, I had forgotten that I should be afraid. For an even slighter second, I looked at Yuri like he wasn’t someone who would kill me without a second thought. This time the words slipped out like a mantra. “Don’t touch me.”

He nodded. His mouth opened but shut just as abruptly before he stormed out of the room. I counted to ten before following but by the time I got my fingers around the doorknob, it was locked from the outside.

I pressed my back against the door, wondering what the hell I was still doing in his room and not down in my cell where I belonged. But I damn sure wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to try and escape.

Chapter 7

Darya

The door was a bust. My eyes darted around the room, taking everything in. Though I knew it was his room, it didn’t much look like anyone really lived here. Besides the large bed in the middle of the room, there was only minimal furniture. A bedside table with a lamp, one tall dresser, one long one, and the chair that he had been sitting in when I woke up earlier. There was no wall art, no decor— the only thing that had life was the large window against the back wall next to the bed. My eyes widened and I surged forward.

My fingers raked across the bottom, searching for a mechanism to open the damn thing. Dust covered my fingertips until I realized it wasn’t openable, the panes settled in the frame with no way to unlock it. I slammed my hand down on the window sill, my bones rattling but I didn’t care. The window was my way out, I knew it.

Beyond the glass was a manicured lawn, unnaturally green for this time of year. It expanded until it curved downward, toward a rocky hill. I couldn’t see past the slope from the angle of the window but beyond it was nothing— no houses, no buildings, there were hardly any plants to obscure the view. Pushing away from the window, I turned my attention to the bedside table.

Surely a killer would keep a piece by his bed.

I ripped out the drawer and tossed it upside down, scoffing at the mound of condoms that tumbled out.

“Gross,” my lip curled, but I kicked at the contents on the carpet. Apart from a phone charger and a flashlight, there was nothing of substance. I did the same with each dresser drawer, rifling through the clothes until they lay in heaps around my feet.

Stopping to ensure that no sounds were coming from the other side of the door, I rushed to the bathroom. I picked through every drawer, even pulling open the false mirror that held shelves behind it. The bathroom was much the same as the bedroom, barely used, vacant almost. The only things I found there were toiletries and towels. Neither would help in trying to bust through the window or protect myself.

Settling into the reality that I had nothing to use as a weapon. I went back into the bedroom and stood across from the window.

It was now or never.

I couldn't be sure how long it would take before Yuri came back into the room to check on me, but I wasn’t about to wait around and see. The plan was to fight– to do anything to survive, even if it meant clawing my way out of his room and running barefoot through the Mexican desert.

I picked up the drawer from the dresser and held it in my hand, feeling the weight of it. It was real wood, heavy and sturdy. If I was strong enough and hit the windowpane at the right angle, there was a chance I could shatter the window and run to safety. I stopped, looking back toward the door– in doing so I would call attention to myself, only having a sliver of a chance.

Gripping it hard underneath my fingers. I spun around and threw all my weight behind the dresser drawer, slamming it into the windowpane. Nothing moved. My heart leaped in my chest, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of my neck.

I couldn't give up.

This time I shut my eyes and took a deep breath, swinging myself around to slam the drawer into the window as hard as I possibly could. With a crack, the glass began to shatter, slowly at first, then all at once as I pushed the drawer through the rest of the shards.

“Oh, my god. I did it,” I whispered to myself, dropping the drawer as a gust of warm air surrounded me.

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