Wait, now that she thought about it, she really hoped Boomer would be trying to find her! He and Cade were the ones that were more like peanut butter and jelly. They had made a tight friendship fast. Grace knew that both of those large, muscled men would be trying to find her right now. They better be or she'd have to kick their asses. She needed to get out of this storage shed or whatever it was. She had no clue how much time had gone by and she didn't want to be this vulnerable when Smith came back. Grace knew he would. She would die fighting before she'd let him rape her or worse. She would never allow a man to treat her abusively again. Never.
Grace looked around her, trying to figure out if anyone else was around her in the dark. She stilled herself for a few moments, trying to silence her breath so she could hear. She didn’t hear any noises, not even a peep. The only sound was the nearby water. She turned her head in every direction, but didn’t detect movement or any other shadows besides the kayaks.
She moved her tongue around as much as she could, pushing the material out little by little. Finally, the napkin fell from her mouth to the floor, freeing her to make noise if she needed to. She wasn’t going to scream just yet, just in case the douche Smith was anywhere around. With tears still rolling down her cheeks, Grace tried to think of how to get her hands free. She could feel the ends of a thinner rope of some kind dangling from her tied wrists. So, if she could find something sharp or something with a pointed end, maybe it would be enough to tear the rope up and free her hands. She was tied up pretty tight, though. So no way could she gain the leverage to untie herself.
Grace’s tears had dried up and she was pissed off now. How dare this guy think he could take her away from her family, away from her son. No one was going to do that. No one was going to separate her from Jaxson. She would get out of this and find help. She had been in worse messes than this in the past, she’d seen scarier things and had her dad and brothers treat her with the same insolence and inflicted pain.
No Grace, stop thinking about the past. No time for wallowing in self-pity. You’ve got shit to do. Now do it!You're a bad ass woman with too much to lose. Grace took a deep, steadying breath. Nice pep talk.
Looking around more intently, Grace saw light reflect off of something metal across the room on the wall. Grace rose up on her knees, trying to get her legs to work right. Dizziness overtook her for a moment, then she resumed trying to get on her feet without being able to use her arms or hands to help. She leaned against the stack of kayaks for leverage, and slowly pushed to her feet. She stood there, continuing to lean against the high stack for a few moments until the dizziness passed some. She was glad that they were secure and didn’t lean. If they had, she’d be leaning with them and falling to the floor.
Grace prided herself on being a strong woman, even being described as a ball buster by more than one man. She really enjoyed that description. And she was strong because she had no choice but to be. For her. For her son. For her friends. And now, she was digging deep and finding that ball bustin’ witch because that’s who she needed right now. Otherwise, she would let her marshmallow demeanor take over and just sit on the floor and cry.
No crying today Grace! There’s no crying in kidnapping! Grace started laughing softly at her own joke. She made a mental note to watch the movie, A League of Their Own, soon. Wow, she was starting to lose it. She was finally able to stand up straight without falling over and started gingerly walking over to the wall where she had seen metal. Her feet and legs were mostly asleep, so they felt numb. She looked down and noticed she was barefoot. When she had made it to the other side, she saw a small axe hanging on the wall. It would be her luck that the edge of it was as dull as watching paint dry, but she had to try. But how to get it down to try?
A noise outside startled her, and she ducked down as much as she could. She had no coverage where she was and no weapon to help protect her. Fear, tasting like acid in her mouth, flowed through her, freezing her into place. She didn't want to die. After a few moments, no other noise sounded and no one bum rushed her or entered the building. She blew out a held breath and went back to her options.
Maybe her hands could act as a bolster to the bottom end of the handle? She could push the ax up off the pegs holding it in place on the wall. Maybe. She had to try. Grace turned around and got the handle of the ax cradled in her fingers, as much as she could use them. She slowly raised up with her entire body a few inches, holding on to the end of the axe. She could feel it sliding up the wall a little. Suddenly with a rush of movement, the head of the axe lost
