As if in answer to her prayer, there was a knock at the door.
“What?” Jake growled.
“Claire’s here,” Vince said from the other side.
“What the fuck?”
“She said you told her you’d be at the lake this weekend, and she decided to surprise you.”
“Fuck! I never confirmed to her I was going.” Jake stuffed his penis back in his jeans and went to open the door. “She drive herself up? What the hell?”
Vince didn’t bother looking over at Kimani. “What should I do with her?”
“Fuck. I fucking hate blonds.”
Jake stepped out and slammed the door behind him. Kimani heard him stomping up the stairs.
Claire was here! She wasn’t alone with Jake. Kimani felt a ray of hope. Though Claire hadn’t proved too helpful last time, her presence was better than none.
Kimani could see a lot of anger and hate in Jake. Was it enough to be deadly? She had to assume the possibility was there. Either way, she had to get out of here before discovering the answer.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“The cops said they didn’t find anyone at the cabin,” Bataar said.
They were in Ben’s jet en route to Weaverville.
“Jake must not have made it there yet,” Ben said. “Have them go back.”
Shit. A lot could happen before the sheriff’s deputy made it back to the cabin. If they even agreed to go check again.
As Bataar waited for the county sheriff’s office to pick up his call, he added, “Bill’s been driving nearly a hundred miles an hour, but we’ll still beat him there. He’ll meet us at the cabin.”
Bataar had secured a car, having found a saloon in Weaverville that was open and bribing the owner with a thousand dollars if he could meet them at the airport and let them borrow his car.
Ben prayed he was right that Jake was headed to his lakeside cabin. Because if he wasn’t...or he didn’t make it on time...
Chapter Thirty
Twenty or so minutes had passed by, and Kimani had come up with nothing, no strategy for escape. She had spent a good part of her time trying to assess how much danger she was in and trying not to panic. She knew Jake could get violent, and after what he had been through, he probably hated her now more than ever.
But she did have one helpful thought—if she could get her hands free, she stood a better chance. And maybe the only way she could do that was to play the part he wanted. Appease him long enough to catch him off guard.
She shuddered. She’d rather eat vomit than have to pander to Jake, but she didn’t have much of a choice.
She looked around the room to see if anything could be used as a weapon but found nothing. At least she had a strategy now.
“Time for nappy hoes to be fed,” Jake announced as he entered and closed the door behind him.
She knew what he intended for a meal and wanted to retch. Noticing he had a scotch in hand, she wondered how much he’d had to drink, and if his drinking was a good thing or a bad thing. The alcohol could impair him or it could make him more violent and lose control.
She also noticed that the lock hadn’t actually engaged and the door slid open a crack.
Excitement shot up her spine. She prayed Jake didn’t notice. Maybe she could scream for help? Maybe Claire was in the cabin and could hear her? But if not, she would only upset Jake, and who knew what he might do. She decided to keep the screaming in her back pocket until she had a better assessment of whether or not it could be useful.
“Let’s see how good you give head,” Jake snickered. “You got them big-ass lips. Maybe they’re good for something.”
Unzipping his fly with one hand, he pulled out his penis and stroked himself.