Page 65 of Rune
“Get her to the bed,” the one behind me demanded.
The words renewed my fight.
But no matter how much I writhed, kicked, and scratched, there was no overpowering two men who were stronger than me.
I was shoved down face-first into my bed, a hand holding me by the back of my neck to keep my mouth against the mattress, silencing my screams.
My arm was wrenched behind my back, pulled viciously up, making my shoulder burn.
A body came over my lower body, making me try to crawl away, but he was too heavy, his weight pressing into my upper thighs, holding me still as the other guy secured something cold and hard around my wrist. A handcuff, maybe?
My other arm twisted back, a hand grabbing my throbbing hand, making more pain slice through me as the cuff slid around my wrist.
“Move up here,” the guy who just cuffed me demanded. The other one slid up my body, knees pressing into my arms and back as his friend slid something else around my ankles. Hard still, but not as hard as the metal cuffs. Zip ties, maybe?
All I knew was when they tightened enough to cut into my skin, I was completely helpless.
The man moved off of me, and I was flipped onto my back, making blinding pain shoot through my hand.
But even as I tried to cry out, a hand slapped over my mouth again. Only this time, it was with a piece of tape.
I could do nothing but lie there staring up at them as the one who’d grabbed me walked over to the dresser, pulling the drawer open, and reaching inside.
“She almost had us,” he said, showing the other guy the gun.
“Don’t think she’s gonna be using that hand against us anymore,” the other one said.
“We weren’t supposed to break anything,” the first one said. Hope swelled, despite my capture. “Yet,” he added, crushing all that hope under his heel. “Go down and make sure that nosy old bastard isn’t watching. I’ll bring her down.”
With that, the one guy disappeared, clomping down the steps as the other guy turned back to me. He said nothing, just stared at me in a way that had my stomach churning.
A cold shiver worked its way up my spine, worried he was about to go back on what he said earlier about not hurting me… yet.
But then he sighed, walked over to me, grabbed me, pulled me, then ducked down, so he could throw me over his shoulder.
I knew that the chances of my surviving this all but disappeared the moment they took me to a second location.
I had to try to get away.
Or make enough racket to alert Chip.
I didn’t want to put him in harm’s way. But he’d made it clear that not only did he have a gun, but he knew how to use it. He’d served in the military for most of his youth. Yes, he was much older. Sure, he was probably a little bit rusty. But he wouldn’t hesitate to use his gun in this sort of situation.
My heart stammered as the man’s shoulder pressed into my ribs and his arm anchored across the backs of my knees.
I knew what I had to do.
That didn’t mean I was looking forward to how much it was going to hurt. But hurt was way better than dead. And the stairwell was close to Chip’s bedroom. The racket was sure to wake him up.
Exhaling hard so my wind wouldn’t be knocked out of me, I threw my weight backward.
The world lurched.
His grip tightened on me as he stumbled, his shoe missing a step.
I twisted hard, turning my body into dead, swinging weight.
Below me, he cursed.
