Kaylee jolted at the sound, fumbling and almost dropping the knife. Recovering her grip, she squeezed the handle tightly as she gave herself a mental smack. Get it together, Kay, she commanded, reaching for the tie on his other wrist. When she noticed how badly she was shaking, though, she stopped before she accidentally cut him.
“You’ve got this, angel,” the man said, and his calm assurance helped. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her hand enough to slip the tip of the knife under the plastic tie. When she pulled up, it opened with a pop. His ankles were easier, and she cut his legs free in seconds before hastily backing up several steps. She almost felt like she’d opened the cage of a circus lion. Would he reward her help or just eat her?
“Thanks, angel.” The man stood and immediately moved to the table. Although he stumbled, his legs wobbling beneath him, he managed to stay on his feet. Grabbing another knife—this one much scarier-looking than Kaylee’s—he moved to the second man and cut his hands free. As he worked, she stared, wondering if she’d made a horrendous mistake. Two out of the three were free. What if they were dangerous criminals? What if they hurt her—or killed her? She was so worried about the return of the torturers, but what if the biggest threat was already in the room with her?
She pushed away the doubt. It was too late to worry about that now. If the men did try to hurt her, they looked to be in bad enough shape that she was pretty sure she could outrun them.
Kaylee forced her body into jerky motion. She headed toward the last guy, who was slumped to the side, only his bonds keeping him semi-upright. He was limp and still, his head lolling to the side as blood ran from his ear and across his cheek before it dripped steadily on the floor. Kaylee seized on the fact that he was still bleeding. Dead people didn’t bleed, did they?
“Please be alive. Please be alive,” she pleaded almost soundlessly. Kaylee sawed at the zip tie securing his hands until the plastic separated and released suddenly. His arms flopped to hang by his sides. Without the restraints holding him, he started to slide sideways, heading toward the floor.
With a squeak of alarm, Kaylee tried to catch him, but his dead weight—no! His unconscious weight—brought her to the floor with him. She put out a hand, trying to catch herself, but her palm slid across wet concrete. Her hip and then her head hit the floor painfully, and the man’s limp body fell heavily across her legs, pinning her. For several seconds, she lay still, stunned.
Then the weight disappeared from her legs, jerking her back to reality. The first man was pulling his unconscious friend’s arm over his shoulder. The second supported the unresponsive man’s other side. Her gaze landed on his face, and she flinched so violently that the back of her head bumped against the floor again. There was a gory mess where one of his eyes should have been. Bile rose in her throat, forcing her to swallow several times. Barely able to keep from vomiting, Kaylee ripped her gaze away from the empty, bloody socket.
“Up you go, Angel.” The man with the swollen face offered the hand not holding on to his unconscious buddy. When she grabbed it, he pulled her up, almost lifting her to her feet, and she scrambled to get her wobbly legs to support her. “Let’s get out before our friends come back, yeah?”
Kaylee couldn’t speak. The best she could do was a jerky nod as she moved to follow the trio. The stairs were too narrow for three big guys to stay side by side, so they were forced to turn sideways. The unconscious man’s boots struck the edges of the treads, and each thud made Kaylee flinch as she climbed the steps behind them. Every sound seemed thunderous, too loud to not be heard everywhere in the mansion, and each step they made, each inch farther that the men dragged their unconscious friend, felt horribly, painfully slow.
When they finally reached the door, all the air left Kaylee’s lungs so quickly and completely that her head spun. After a quick glance into the hall, the men slipped through the doorway. Kaylee hurried up the final few steps, not wanting to be left behind. The thought of being trapped alone in the bloody basement made her stumble forward, rushing to flatten her hands against the opened door.
The man with the swollen face glanced at her as he hitched the unconscious man higher. “Better not go back to the party like that.”
Confused, Kaylee glanced down and saw that, on her hip, a white section of her color-block dress was now smeared with dark red. Blood. The salmon she’d eaten earlier threatened to climb back in her throat.
“You have a car here?” he asked.
She stared at him without seeing his face. All she could see was blood. It was only after he repeated the question that it finally penetrated. Kaylee nodded.