Fat Louise(18)
Bailey waved a hand dismissively at her request. “Raul wants you to stay and visit for a while, so I brought you a few clothes since Raul told me you didn’t bring any. You really should have come better prepared.”
“But I want to go home. I need to get back to work,” Jane argued. “I didn’t bring any clothes, because I didn’t plan on getting kidnapped.”
“Your job can wait. Raul wants you to stay, so you’ll just have to stay.” Bailey ignored Jane’s angry face. “Besides, you weren’t kidnapped. You were the one chasing after Raul.”
“Bailey, you’re married to the man, so it’s your choice if you want to listen to his lies, but I don’t have to. I think it’s crazy, and I want to leave.”
“It’s different here in Mexico. Here, women respect their husbands.”
Jane wanted to vomit. “No, it’s not. What’s different is your willingness to put up with this bullshit.”
Bailey’s pretty face flushed with anger. “I never could talk to you!”
“You could always talk to me. You just never wanted to, because I’m not going to just spout off shit to make you happy. Bailey, I’m telling you this is a fucked up situation.”
“I don’t have time for this. Some of my friends are coming over for dinner tonight. Our husbands are having a business meeting, so we’re having a get-together. I’ll see you in a few days. Maybe you will have calmed down by then.” Her sister turned to the door.
“Don’t you dare leave me!”
Bailey gave her a smug glance before going out the door, slamming it shut behind her.
“Bailey!” Jane frantically tried to open the door, only to find it was locked. “Bailey!” She wasn’t coming back.
Jane leaned on the wooden door, wanting to bang her head against it for being stupid enough to try to help her sister. Finally, her knees gave out, and she slid to the floor, wanting to scream and rant at the closed door. Instead, she fought back silent tears.
The only small thread of hope she held on to was that Cade would find her. Without that thought keeping her calm, Jane didn’t know what she would do. He was her last hope of returning home.
By the next day, she had lost that hope, though. She was going to take her escape into her own hands. She had put herself in this situation; therefore, she would get herself out.
Jane waited until it was dark and her dinner had been brought in before slipping on a pair of jeans as well as a long-sleeved shirt that had been in the suitcase Bailey had given her and putting on her tennis shoes.
The door was locked, but someone always returned to pick up her tray. Jane was so nervous she barely tasted it, but without knowing when her next meal would be, she forced each tasteless bite down until she had eaten the whole meal. She set the plates to the side then went to stand by the door, tensely waiting. After what seemed like hours, she heard the key turn in the door.
Jane waited only long enough to see the dark head of a soldier before bringing the tray down on his head. Thinking fast, she grabbed the key from where he had dropped it when she struck him. He was trying to regain his footing when Jane struck him with the tray again. This time, he fell down face forward and didn’t get back up.
She stuck her head out of the doorway, making sure no one else was there, before walking out and closing the door behind her, locking it for good measure. Let the bastard see how easy it was to get out of the locked room.
Jane’s instinct was to run like hell, but reason had her walking slowly down the steps she had been brought up. She heard loud voices to the side and knew she wouldn’t be able to slip past to the front door without being seen.
Cautiously, she moved toward the back of the house. Most houses had back doors, and she prayed this one wasn’t any different. Smelling food, she knew she was heading in the direction of the kitchen, which Jane feared would have servants. She stopped for a moment, trying to think of her best option, then realized she didn’t need a door to escape.
She saw a door to her left, and taking a fearful breath, she opened it slowly, her eyes widening when she saw the contents. Ducking into the room, she closed the door behind her. There were guns everywhere along with several boxes lying on tables, which Jane took valuable time to search, and she was glad she had.
Jane picked up a wicked looking knife, shoving it in the back of her pants before pulling her shirt over it. Then she picked out a gun that seemed similar to the one John had shown her how to use, praying it was loaded. She promised herself she was going to take a shooting class when she returned home, but then changed her mind. She would beg Stud to teach her, instead. This was the last time she would find herself in this situation.