She didn’t speak. And then she did.
“Define nice.”
Marco smiled. He had her now. Whether she knew it or not.
He made her skin crawl. She couldn’t see him because he kept the light shining in her face, but she didn’t need to see him. He was scum, just like the other two.
And she knew what he meant by nice. Her skin crawled even more. What was she supposed to do? Stay up here and stay away from him, or go down and do as he said? If she pretended to go along with it, maybe she could get the gun away from him.
She’d have to touch him. Or let him touch her. She’d have to take a risk that she could win, all while letting him feel her up. And if she failed, he’d shove himself inside her and make her afraid again. She’d have to endure being raped—and then, if she lived beyond today, she’d have to fight violent memories while trying to have a relationship with Colt.
It would be almost impossible. She could lose the man she loved and all because some asshole wanted to ruin everything she and Colt had begun by taking what he didn’t have a right to.
She hated him. If she could take his gun and blow his brains out, she’d do it without hesitation.
“Come on down here and we’ll discuss it,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be unpleasant.”
Bile flooded her throat. She turned her head, breathing deep, trying to think of what to do. On the next to last stair at the top, not too far away, lay a metal pipe. It looked like it wasn’t attached, but maybe it was. If she could get to it, she’d have a weapon of her own.
Against a gun? Are you crazy?
“You have to move that light. I can’t see,” she said, her heart pounding a crazy rhythm.
“I think I’d better keep it on you,” he replied.
“Shine it at the bottom of the stairs. It’s blinding me and I don’t want to fall. It’s not like I can run away, is it?”
He snickered. It was an evil sound. “Nope. Nowhere to go, little mouse.”
“Please then. I’ll come down if you move the light.”
It was several seconds before the pool of light dropped to the floor beneath her. She didn’t know if he could still see her or if she was completely shadowed, but she made a decision to take a chance anyway. Angie grabbed the pipe and held it tightly to her left side, which was the side that faced away from him. Her heart raced as she took the steps down. When she stood in the pool of light, she didn’t turn. She just stared down at the floor and didn’t move.
“Good girl,” the man said.
The light bobbed and she knew he was moving toward her. She kept her head down, like she was defeated, and prayed he wouldn’t ask her to turn toward him. The pipe in her hand was solid, rusty beneath her fingers, and about three feet long.
Angie didn’t look at him. He kept the light on the side of her face to prevent her from looking. She knew when he stopped to pick the hood off the floor. He planned to make her put it on again, of course. So she couldn’t see his face.
Angie shivered with the cold, or maybe it was adrenaline racing through her veins. She watched the way the light bobbed out of the corner of her eye, watched as it got closer. Her grip tightened on the pipe.
He had a gun. She knew he did, but she couldn’t see it. If she hit him hard enough, maybe she’d knock the gun away. Or maybe he’d shoot her dead and that’d be the end of it.
“Turn around,” he told her. “Face away from me.”
Angie shifted the pipe as she did what he told her to do. It was a stroke of luck she hadn’t been counting on. She gripped the pipe in both hands, muscles coiling. She couldn’t move too soon.
You shouldn’t move at all. You’ll get your fool self killed.
His footsteps were closer now. Almost there. Angie sucked in a breath—and then she whirled with the pipe, holding it like a baseball bat and lashing out with all her strength.
She caught him by surprise. The gun and flashlight went flying. The light rolled over to the wall, illuminating everything between her and the door he’d entered through.
It did not show her, though. Yet another piece of luck.
He came up raging, lunging toward her, and Angie swung the pipe again. This time he grabbed the end of it and started to tug her toward him.
Angie fought, but he was stronger than she was. Instead of continuing to pull on the pipe, she aimed a kick at his kidney. It’d be a lot better if she had shoes on, but maybe she’d connect in the right place.
The man yelped in pain—and let go of the pipe. “Fucking bitch,” he screamed. “I’m going to kill you.”
Angie dashed around behind him and took a swing at his head. She connected with something that cracked sickeningly. The man dropped—and the door above her head burst open.
Colt heard voices in the room. He hesitated, trying to make them out, but all he could make out was a male voice and a female one. It might be Angie, or it might not be. He applied torque on the wrench and scrubbed the pick in the lock until all the pins were set. The instant the last one fell into place, the male voice inside roared in fury.
“Fucking bitch, I’m going to kill you!”
Colt freed the lock and kicked open the door. Ian and Jace rushed up the stairs behind him. He didn’t know how many men were in the room,
