King Maker (King Maker 3)

“Motel, you mean.”

I waved off his correction and got out of the car. It was a stupid comment. But he was as worried as I was at what could be happening to her.

I headed to the back of the truck, sure Turner would follow. When I heard the car door close, I lifted up my key fob and hit the lock button.

The area we were in held several boarded-up one-story buildings, a liquor store closed for the night, and this ramshackle motel. I could afford another car if mine got stolen, but I didn’t have the time to bother with those details. Nor would I make it easy for someone to take it.

We entered the back of the truck with the team continuing to work at computer stations. Matt huddled with Gormely around a younger man wearing headphones. He gave a thumbs-up and Gormely interpreted.

“We have movement.”

He tapped the screen and sound came through.

“Can we be sure it’s her?” I asked.

Quickly, I shifted back to cover my hands with my hair. There was no time to get the cuffs back on as the door swung open.

He checked his watch when he noticed I was awake.

“I guess you’ll need a higher dose when it’s time to transport you.”

I said nothing and kept a fearful expression on my face.

“Don’t worry, doll. At least about me. Our time is almost at an end.”

“I need to pee,” I said.

He didn’t miss a beat. My good girl act the first time was paying off. “Same rules apply.”

I nodded and waited, counting my breaths as he moved around the side of the bed closest to the bathroom. My timing had to be perfect.

When he bent over me, I held my breath. Once he was as close to my face as I’d thought he’d dare get, I shot my hands forward and dug my thumbs into his eye sockets.

He made a good impression of a girl as the pitch of his scream reached soprano decibels as he worked to pull back.

I didn’t have enough strength to hold him, so I swung my knee up and connected with his balls. He bent forward and I dug my thumbs a little deeper into his eyes before pushing him off me. Then I had no choice but to scoot to the end and not the side of the bed.

It wasn’t the best option, as I was slower. But he was on that side of the bed and I couldn’t be sure of the damage I’d caused.

One thing I hadn’t counted on was how much of my hair was free once I’d removed one of my bobby pins.

My head snapped back as he yanked at the strands. It felt as if he’d pulled them out by the roots as I landed flat on my back.

The dim light didn’t allow for me to see the exact damage I’d inflicted on him, but he was able to focus hate-filled eyes on me as he swung his body to cover mine.

“You shouldn’t have done that, bitch.”

I bucked underneath him, hoping to get him off so I could have my limbs free to use as weapons.

He didn’t budge, only pressed down on me harder and clamped one large hand around my throat, squeezing.

Air became precious as I reflexively opened my mouth as if that would somehow bring oxygen into my lungs.

“It won’t be long now,” he declared.

I thrashed and felt him grow hard. I gagged harder as I tried to find air. Stars began to dance in my eyes and I decided to stop.

It was my only play left. If he thought I was about to pass out, maybe he’d let up. I needed time and that meant not dying or losing consciousness.

He didn’t let up. Somewhere in the distance I thought I heard a crash and maybe caught a blur of movement. Either that or I was near death and seeing things.

Sounds of grunting came through the top-of-the-line equipment that could catch the faintest noise from far off and through walls. My vision turned red.

“Time to move,” I said.

Matt called out after me, “That could be coming from a different room.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck,” I said as I pushed the doors open with Matt at my heels.

“The local authorities are on their way,” he said, reaching for me.

I shrugged him off. “Time for waiting is over,” I said and took off across the street, not bothering to wait for anyone to follow.

Abandoning my plan, I headed straight to the door with a weathered number eight barely hanging on it.

With proper positioning and force of will, my well-placed kick at the sweet spot of the frame made the wood around the lock splinter. It wasn’t my first time kicking a door down. I ignored the memory that wanted to swallow me.

On the bed a man covered a woman. Though it was dark, I recognized the dress that was fisted in his hand and dove at him. I tackled him off her and we rolled off the side of the bed.