Just One Touch (Slow Burn #5)(40)

       
         
       
        

It had to be this way. Not just for her own self-preservation but also for Isaac's safety and the safety of everyone in this room. She closed her eyes and took a moment to harden her resolve, knowing in her heart that this was her only option. She had no other choice.

The second she lifted her head just enough to peek at the others from underneath her eyelashes she froze. She was a complete idiot, because if Gracie truly did have the ability to read minds, Jenna's plan was likely already in shreds.

The more her gaze followed the women in the group, the more bitter envy swelled deep in her gut. She didn't hate them or bear them ill will, but she was so jealous of what they had and all that she didn't.

Jenna dropped her head back to her knees in case anyone caught her staring, and especially if Gracie had a mental pathway into her mind. She huddled as far from the others as possible, trying to make herself invisible, all the while slowly scanning the room with eyes that were hidden from the people standing several feet away. She took in every detail, trying desperately to find some way of escaping. A hysterical laugh nearly spilled from her lips before she slammed them shut and sucked in deep, steadying breaths through her nose, willing herself to be calm.

How exactly did she think she'd ever manage to escape these men? Anger at herself surged hotly through her body. She'd already escaped the impossible and if she'd done it once, then she could do it again. She just had to believe in herself. But first she had to find a way out and secondly, she had to make her move when everyone's attention was drawn away from her and focused on charting their course of action.

She softly blew out her breath over her knees in a nearly silent gesture of frustration. Who was she kidding? Only a few seconds ago she'd been all about being honest with herself and here she was contemplating that her odds of slipping away unnoticed were actually good. But she couldn't decide which was worse. Being dishonest with herself or being a pessimist. Neither was going to help her out in her current situation.

Refusing to give in to defeat, no matter how inevitable it seemed, she resolved to stop sulking, wallowing in self-pity and acting like a pathetic, useless twit. There was always a way. She just had to find it.

Being extremely careful not to be obvious, she resumed the search she'd so quickly abandoned only moments after beginning. She'd learned infinite patience while imprisoned in the cult, knowing that if she ever grew impatient and tried to escape before she had a flawless plan in place, she'd never get another chance. Luck certainly never hurt, though, and she'd take all the luck available to her.

Remaining completely silent, not even the puffy exchange of air from her lungs able to be heard, she lifted her head so gradually it would be undetectable and peeked from beneath her arms to survey the room, looking for a way out that wasn't barred by one or more of the DSS men. Ugh, the size that these men were, it would only take one to create an insurmountable obstacle to her. 

Her breath caught when her gaze finally lighted on what looked to be an opening to a cellar in the floor. It was small, scarcely big enough for the large, muscled men to ever fit through. It would certainly be a tight squeeze for any one of them. But her slim figure could easily slip through the opening. The cellar door didn't look as if it had been used in years. Since she knew this to be one of the DSS strongholds and the most secure of their safe houses, the cellar door was likely an escape route in case the house came under siege.

It wasn't far from where she sat against the wall and if she could slowly, but most of all quietly, move the few feet between her and the cellar opening, she could quickly slip downward before she would even be detected.

There had to be a way out once she reached the sublevel of the safe house. These men would have planned for every eventuality, and in all likelihood had multiple escape routes in case the safe house was breached and any of the other exits had been compromised or blocked off by the enemy.

She mentally gave herself a pep talk even as panic threatened to overwhelm her to the point of breaking down into hysteria. Get it together, Jenna! All she had to do was drop down the cellar opening, slide the door back shut, hopefully not making the slightest sound, and then find the exit that led to the outside of the building and run as if her life depended on it.

Not her life. Isaac's life. The lives of the men and women of DSS. People's blood she refused to have on her hands when she was the sole reason they were all in danger.

She'd found her way around the city the first time, even if she hadn't gone far before running into Isaac-and trouble. But that wasn't the point. She'd done it once and she could do it again. She just couldn't let terror paralyze her and she needed to realize that this wasn't a game of hide-and-seek. Failure meant her capture, and it could also mean death for every single person in this room. Success meant she would continue to breathe and could disappear to where she'd never be a danger to anyone again.