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Fuck yes!
My heart starts pounding.
His fingers dig out the pin, and he leans back, lifting his face with an exhale. “Got it.”
I shift toward him right away. “Let me see.”
I take the pin from his fingers so carefully like it’s a magical spindle, then place his other cuffed hand on my lap and twist the cuff to position the keyhole so I can work it.
I know what I’m doing but still pray in my mind as I gently swipe the pin inside the keyhole once, twice, thrice. I pick up the little latch inside the lock and push on it, my heart giving out a loud thud when it clicks and the cuff falls apart, freeing Archer’s hand.
“You are brilliant,” he blurts, rubbing his wrist and kissing me on the cheek.
This time, I cheer as I set my cuffed wrists on my lap and work the locks until both hands are free.
“Whew!” I exhale, grinning, meeting Archer’s gaze that says, “You are a star.”
He yanks me toward him, burying his face in my neck.
“Kitten, your smell, fuck,” he murmurs, his tongue licking up my skin.
It’s adrenalin. It makes you lose perspective on the situation. But this is only the first step. We both know it.
So I push Archer away. “Arch!” I hiss, trying to hide a smile. “Jesus, you are such a psycho. We need to get out.”
“Right.” He rakes his hair. His nose is swollen. He’s a brutal sight. “We need to plan this carefully,” he says, and I’m ready, so ready to fight with him through this mess.
52
ARCHER
Kat sitson her haunches on the floor by the wall across from the door. Her handcuffs are open but wrapped around her wrists.
I stand behind the door, waiting. It might take hours, but we’re ready. My nose swells, but I pull out the cloths—the bleeding has stopped.
Not even an hour goes by when we hear a heavy latch somewhere above us, then two sets of heavy footsteps approaching down the steps.
I lock eyes with Kat and nod, blood pulsating between my ears.
She nods back.
The bolt on the other side of the door is unlatched, and the door opens slowly.
I swing it open in one fast motion, duck, and slam into the first body. He hits the second one. All three of us fall onto the ground, grunts mixing with the thudding of my punches that I throw mercilessly like I’m at Carnage.
I hear Kat’s quick footsteps and her loud voice, “Don’t fucking move! Freeze!”
I pull back, panting, crawling away as I stare at what’s in front of me—the same two guys, on the ground. One reaches for the gun he dropped, but I snatch it and point it at him.
One thug grunts, curled up on the concrete. The other stares at me in shock.
Kat’s behind me, with a gun, and I rise, slowly backing away, and motion to both of them. “Get in.”
They don’t walk, they crawl, fucking imbeciles. They’re inside the room when I swing my foot at one guy’s head with a kick that’s enough to send him “night-night” for some time. I send another kick to the other guy’s jaw, and he slumps onto the floor.
Kat’s gaze is full of amazement. Only a girl like her can appreciate brutal necessity like this.
We cuff the guys, rip one of their shirts and gag them, then take their radios.
