Rules of Survival (Entangled Embrace)

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Rules of Survival (Entangled Embrace) Page 17

by Jus Accardo


  I kept my mouth closed when I saw a roll of it peeking out from the top of his bag.

  “So, what’s the brilliant plan?” Shaun said as soon as he heard the car start up.

  “Oh, you’ll love it,” I said, tugging at the cuffs around my ankle. “It’s epic. Ready? We sit here—and starve!”

  “You’re hungry, too, huh?” Bracing both feet up against the frame, Shaun gave a good yank. And then another. Nothing happened.

  “Contemplating gnawing on my arm—before Deeds saws it off.” I shivered, remembering the look in his eyes when he told me not to try escaping. I’d dealt with a lot of crazies, but none quite as wacko as Deeds. I wasn’t the roll-over-and-die type, but even the most determined person could see the situation was looking pretty bleak. “He’s gonna kill us after he finds out there’s no money, isn’t he?”

  Shaun stopped yanking on the cuffs and turned toward me. “Stop. It’s not going to come to that.”

  I nodded around the room. “No? Do you see a way out? ’Cause I’ve got nothing.”

  “We’ve both been in plenty of tight spots before. We’re still here.”

  I appreciated the pep talk, but I had to wonder if he was blind or just flat-out delusional. “Tight spots? Tighter than this?”

  “Sure,” he said. “There were times at home—my first home—that I was sure I was going to die.”

  I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for him. We’d been on the run my whole life, but Mom loved me—even if by the rest of the world’s standards she had a funny way of showing it. I’d never worried where we’d end up or when the next time we’d eat would be. I certainly was never afraid of her… “Was it always bad? With your dad, I mean.”

  He shrugged, and to most people, it probably would have looked casual. Now though, since we’d gotten to know each other, I saw right through it. “It got worse as I got older. I started looking more and more like her. He hated me for it.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “I know that now—but he couldn’t see it. He never wanted kids and made sure I knew it from the very start.” He swallowed hard, flexing his fingers. “It’s—it’s kind of messed up, but I used to feel sorry for him.”

  “Sorry for him?” I balked. “Why the hell would you feel sorry for him?”

  “He loved her. When she died he just cracked. Something broke inside… He made sure I knew she was dead because I was alive.” He forced a weak smile. There was so much emotion behind it that it made my chest hurt. “See, they gave her a choice. They could save her or me—she picked me.”

  “He should have never told you that…” What kind of a bastard tells a child he’s responsible for his own mother’s death? A dark part of me wanted to meet Shaun’s dad. A part of me wanted to be the last thing the man saw.

  “Messed up, right? So the old man blamed me, and when I was a kid, I didn’t know any better. I agreed with him. That’s a shitload of guilt…”

  “So you never fought back?”

  “Not really, no. I deserved it,” he said, voice nearly a whisper. “He had me believing I deserved it. But I started seeing the truth as I got older. What happened wasn’t my fault. It couldn’t be. I didn’t fight back at first, but I made it my business to avoid him. I knew the danger signs. When he came home from work and started slamming things around, I made myself scarce.”

  “But it was impossible to avoid him all the time.”

  “It was,” he agreed, nodding. “Like I said, as I got older, I looked more and more like my mother. I’d wake up in the middle of the night and he’d be standing over me. He’d drag me out of bed and—the point is, I know what it feels like to be helpless. But you’re never truly helpless. As long as you don’t give up, there’s always a way out. The way I see it, if I could make it out of that, I can make it out of anything.”

  “You really believe that?”

  He slouched back against the bed, gaze fixed on me, and nodded. “I believe that. I can’t believe that the universe is pulling my ticket yet. I only just met you. I think we have a lot of years ahead of us.” With a wink, he puffed out his chest. “And, ya know, I’m sure the universe wouldn’t do that to you. How cruel would it be to present someone as magnificent as me to you only to send me to the long dirt nap?”

  “Wow,” I said, biting back a grin. “Just, wow. Well, if it comes down to it, you can just crush the bad guys with your enormous ego.”

  “I dunno. His might be neck and neck with mine.” His smile faded, and he nodded toward the door. “How long you think he’ll be gone?”

  “I doubt it’ll be long.” He was right. There was no such thing as truly helpless. Giving up was stupid and not my style. Mom taught me better than that. I nodded to Deeds’s bag, off to the side of the door. He’d left it behind—along with one of the cells. “I’m betting you can’t reach that, right?”

  He stretched as far as he could, the toe of his sneaker coming up just short. “No dice. Maybe we can move the bed?”

  I pulled with all my strength. When nothing happened, I scrunched to peek at the legs. “Bolted down.”

  “Of course it is.” He sighed. “Hang on. I think I might be able—” He stretched again, this time pulling the cuffs so hard that both his wrists turned bright red—then white. “Reach…”

  “It’ll be close, but I think you can get it,” I managed, cringing. There wasn’t enough room for my hand to fit between the bars. Deeds had threaded the cuffs through the frame, using the narrowest part. The harder Shaun pulled, the more it mashed my hand into the metal. But I didn’t say anything. If there was a chance he could reach the bag… “Be careful you don’t hurt yourself.”

  “And what do you think Deeds is going to do?”

  He kept pulling. I held my breath and squeezed both eyes closed. It felt like the pressure was going to snap my wrist in half. When I dared open my eyes, I saw a thin red trail of liquid trickling down from the bar as the edge of the cuff bit into my skin. Another violent jerk, and a gasp sprang from my lips.

  “I—almost—have—it!” With a final grunt, the bag slipped sideways and tipped over, the cell spilling out onto the floor. He turned to me. “We did—” His expression fell. “Fuck! Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

  “I’m okay,” I insisted, pulling on the chain a bit. I tried flexing my fingers, but a sharp pain shot through my hand. “It’ll be okay in a sec.”

  “Kayla, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”

  “Do not apologize. It was the only way.” I nodded to the fallen bag. The cell was easily within reach now. Nothing else mattered. “And it worked. Hurry. Grab it and call Patrick before that wacko gets back.”

  His stricken expression morphed into one of determination as he angled his foot and swept the rug. He almost got it on the second swipe, but a car door slammed outside the room. “No!” he growled.

  “Quick,” I said, sneaking a peek at the door. “Kick the bag over so it’s covering the phone. Maybe he won’t notice.”

  Shaun kicked out, the edge of his sneaker catching the strap of the bag. He was able to drag it over the phone and pull his leg back just as the door opened and Deeds stumbled inside.

  He paused in the doorway, looking from Shaun to me with a suspicious glare. “What’ve you been doing since I left?”

  Even with him standing by the door, fresh air breezing through behind, I could smell it. Beer. The pungent scent wafted into the room and quickly overpowered everything—including the flowery air freshener. And that was a serious feat.

  I waved my good hand back and forth, cringing. “Better question is what have you been doing?”

  “Don’t give me lip, missy.” He stomped across the floor—stumbling several times—and fell hard onto the bed. For a minute all he did was stare. “How old’re you?”

  “Huh?”

  “Age,” he slurred. “As in, what is yours?”

  Next to me, Shaun tensed. “Why?”

  “Mind your own busine
ss,” Deeds barked before turning back to me. “Age?”

  He pulled one of the keys from his back pocket and unsteadily reached down to unlock my foot. Waving the other one annoyingly close to my face, he wobbled slightly and repeated himself. “Age?”

  “Eighteen,” I said through clenched teeth.

  His lips split with a wicked grin. “Well, how about that.” Rocking to his left, and then to his right, he finally managed to stand. I didn’t think he’d stay upright—but he did. Tugging on the second set of cuffs to test them, he said, “Old enough for adult activity.”

  Shaun snarled and made a swipe for him, but all it did was jar both our wrists—and amuse Deeds.

  For some reason, he found Shaun’s reaction funny. No. Not just funny. He found it hysterical. He was laughing so hard, that I thought he might pass out from lack of oxygen—which would actually have been a good thing—or at the very least, piss himself.

  “Do you”—he wheezed, hitching a thumb in my direction—“do you have a thing for the walking pile of cash here?”

  Shaun didn’t answer, but the look on his face made me kind of glad he was restrained.

  “What would daddy have to say?” he continued. “Or maybe that’s why you’re here alone, eh? Daddy didn’t want to share?”

  “You’re a dick when you’re drunk, Deeds,” I said, trying to steer the conversation away from Shaun. He looked ready to explode, and if he lunged for him again, I was positive he’d break my wrist in the process. “Actually, you’re probably a dick sober, too.”

  “Kayla,” Shaun warned in a low voice. He was still staring at Grayson.

  “No, it’s okay,” Deeds said—although it sounded more like Nooosoookai. He bent down and seized my chin, clammy fingers digging into the skin. Fetid breath reeking of beer and what I’d guessed were days without using a toothbrush turned my stomach as it puffed across my face. More than the smell, though, was his close proximity. If he brought his face any closer, we’d be touching. I didn’t know if I could handle that without “spazzing,” as Shaun had put it so eloquently. “I like this one. Has some kick to her. Bet we could have some fun.”

  “Back away from her,” Shaun snarled. “If you touch her again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

  Deeds chuckled. “I’ve never had any complaints before. Maybe she’d like to find out firsthand?”

  The weight of the situation settled over me and panic all but took over. Heart pounding and cold sweat breaking out across my brow—it was terror like I’d never known. I’d lived in fear of the unknown all my life, but this was entirely different. “Please just leave me alone. You’ll get your cash. Just get away.”

  He wobbled forward and awkwardly positioned himself over me, sniffing my hair.

  Every muscle in my body locked up and Shaun went nuts. He thrashed and yanked on the chains, screaming at the top of his lungs. Deeds reacted immediately, moving away from me and grabbing him by the throat. “Do I need to remind you that Jaffe doesn’t care if she’s dead or alive? If you continue to make noise, I’ll kill her and just be done with it.”

  Shaun froze, eyes darting from Deeds’s face to mine. I begged silently for him to just let it go. I wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, but I knew when I was beat. Right now, Deeds had the upper hand. Pushing it would end badly.

  “What? No smart-ass remark? No more threats?” He turned to me with a chuckle. “What about you? Anything to add?”

  I held my breath and waited for Shaun to strike back—but he didn’t. He just sat there glaring at the older man. Relief washed through the room, and I let myself relax a little.

  “If you sass me one last time, girl, you’re going to regret it. Are we clear? Maybe I won’t take it out on you.” He released Shaun’s neck and flexed his fingers. “Maybe I’ll take it out on him.”

  I could only nod—which was probably for the best. Words—any words—might be taken the wrong way. A challenge. An invitation. Anything I said could cause one of us serious pain.

  Deeds held my gaze for a moment—I was proud of myself for not squirming—before heading away to the bathroom. A few moments later, the shower hissed to life.

  I counted to ten, then listened. The water was still running and there was no sign of him. I inclined my head toward the bag. “As soon as you’re sure he’s asleep, grab the cell.”

  Shaun nodded. “Seems pretty drunk so he should pass right out. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll pass out in the shower. Crack his head open.”

  “Oh…” I forced a smile. “That would be lucky!”

  “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  I opened my mouth and stretched my jaw. The skin stung where Deeds’s fingers had clutched, but I was otherwise intact. “I’m good. Promise. I don’t think he’ll hurt us—at least not until he gets his hands on that cash.”

  “I don’t really think he’s the pillar of restraint. If he gets mad enough—”

  I sucked in a deep breath and grabbed the bed frame to steady myself. A tremor raced through me as I thought about what just happened. What could have happened. Shaun was right. The hunter was crazy. We couldn’t afford any more slipups. “Then, like you said earlier, we don’t get him mad.”

  “What are we whispering about, kiddies?” Deeds said, ambling from the bathroom. He was wearing only a towel, and it showed off way too much of his orangey, over-tanned skin. I tried not to cringe.

  He plucked the key from the dresser and stooped down low to unlock the second set of cuffs from around Shaun’s left wrist, as well as the one on my ankle. Patting the bed, he said to me, “It might get cold tonight. Why don’t you sleep up here with me, missy? We can keep each other warm…”

  Shaun tensed, but I took his hand in mine and squeezed as hard as I could. “I think I’ll pass. Thanks.” Cool. Had to just play it cool—which wasn’t as easy as I’d made it sound to Shaun. Just being in the same room as Grayson Deeds, with his lecherous stares and unstable personality, terrified me.

  He yanked the end of the cuffs he’d taken off Shaun’s left hand and locked it to one of the middle rungs on the headboard. This was becoming an embarrassing trend. Headboards and handcuffs. The universe was trying to tell me something.

  “’Fraid I’m gonna have to insist. I have needs—”

  “I. Will. Fucking. Kill. You,” Shaun said quietly.

  Deeds let out a short laugh. “And maybe she needs a little time with a real man,” he finished with a wink. He was doing it on purpose. Trying to bait Shaun into doing something stupid.

  But Shaun was smarter than that. I hoped. I needed him to be smarter than that…

  Shaun didn’t respond. Instead, he just stared. Silent and dangerous.

  There was no part of me that wanted to be in the same room as Grayson Deeds—much less lie on a bed next to him—but I could see this for what it was. An opportunity. “It’s okay, Shaun.”

  “No, Kayla. It’s really not.”

  “It is,” I insisted, willing him to understand. Being that close to Deeds would make it easier for Shaun to get the cell and call Patrick—Deeds was sneaky, but with me lying right next to him, there was little chance he could feign sleep without me knowing.

  I slid onto the bed beside him, biting down hard on my tongue. I could do this without puking. I could. I’d done worse. Mom and I once had to hide out in a semi-full dumpster for over an hour to avoid our landlord. Someone had just emptied the contents of their fridge—most of which smelled like year-old chicken and fish. Getting this close to a scumbag like Deeds was nothing. “If you touch me, I’ll kill you myself,” I said as calmly as possible.

  Deeds snickered. He teetered close, beer breath all I could smell, and said, “Maybe you’ll beg me for it.”

  “Unlikely,” I responded coolly. Deeds’s gaze lingered before turning back to the bed. He grunted, burrowing under the covers.

  I could do this. Just bide my time until we could take our chance. And that’s what I told myself. For the next twenty
minutes. Until a chainsaw-like sound reverberated through the room, telling us that he was out for the count.

  Twisting sideways, careful not to rattle the cuffs or jostle the mattress, I whispered, “Okay. Should be safe. Try to grab it.”

  Foot out, Shaun managed to move the bag aside and get the heel of his sneaker over the cell. Carefully, he slid it across the floor until it was within grabbing distance. “Got it,” he whispered, flipping the phone open.

  I held my breath when he dialed Patrick, soft beeping noises filling the room as he punched the numbers.

  “What the hell do you want, Grayson?” I heard Patrick’s faint voice snap after several soft rings.

  “Not Grayson,” Shaun whispered. He tilted to the right, leaning as far from the bed as he could get without rattling the shackle chains or pulling on my wrist.

  There was a pause, then Patrick’s voice changed. “You’re with Grayson.” It wasn’t a question. More like a curse. “What happened?”

  “Short version is that he has us handcuffed in a motel. We managed to stall him for a day, but we don’t have much time.”

  “Stall him as long as you can. I’m already on my way.”

  Shaun glanced over his shoulder at me, confused, then turned back to the cell. “Already on—”

  “Are you both okay?”

  “Yeah, we’re—”

  “Good. Then hang up, sit tight, and for God’s sake, tell the kid not to do anything annoying to piss him off. I’ll be there shortly.”

  “How?” Shaun asked, but it was already too late. The line had gone dead.

  Now all that was left to do was play the hurry-up-and-wait game…

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Wakey, wakey—time for you to earn your bakey.” The entire room shook, and I bolted straight up.

  Or at least I tried.

  “What the—” I cried out when I got as far as the cuffs would allow, wrenching one arm back toward the headboard and yanking Shaun’s right arm up at a violent angle.

  Stars danced across my field of vision, and involuntary tears stung my eyes as both sets of cuffs dug into my already-tender skin. The padding Shaun had made me from the ripped bits of the hoodie was long gone, leaving the skin exposed to the harsh metal. My left wrist was several shades of purple, blue, and green. It was a shame skin wasn’t supposed to look like that because it was actually kind of pretty.

 

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