Rules of Survival (Entangled Embrace) Read Online Free PDF Page B

you don’t know who this Mick guy is?”
    “No idea.” I twisted my arms and wiggled my fingers. The feeling was nearly gone from the left ones. “Could you please undo this? I can’t feel my hand anymore. I swear I won’t run. I don’t even know where we are.”
    “You just got finished telling me someone stabbed you and you hopped off a bridge to get away.”
    “Overpass.”
    “Whatever.” He stood, frowning. “Somehow I doubt a little thing like lack of location knowledge would stop you from getting away.”
    He was smart—I’d give him that. And it would have been an admirable trait if it wasn’t getting in the way of my escape. “Okay, you have a point, but—”
    Shaun’s hand shot out and covered my mouth. After I got over his audacity, I did the first thing that came to mind. I bit him. He jumped and cursed quietly, turning back to me with a look of pure shock. I was about to tell him he got what he deserved when I heard it. The faintest rattle. Clinking metal. The kind of noise a doorknob made when someone was trying to quietly open a door—or pick the lock.
    He removed his hand and held a finger up to his lips. I nodded, twisting around to tug furiously—although quietly—on the cuffs again as he tiptoed toward the door.
    “Is that the pizza?” Shaun called out. He crept across the room and peered through the peephole. After a minute, he turned to me and mouthed, “ Someone’s blocking it .”
    When I had no luck freeing the cuffs from the bedpost, I pointed furiously at them as Shaun made his way back from the door. “You have to uncuff me!” I snarled.
    He made a slicing motion across his neck, then held a finger up to his lips for a moment before calling out, “Gimme one sec. I’ll be right there.”
    The rattling stopped.
    “Cash only, right? Just looking for my wallet.” He jammed a hand into his pocket. Out came a small silver object. The shackle key. In one smooth move he had the cuff on the bed undone—and redone.
    Clasped onto his own wrist.
    I stared down at our joined hands in horror, about to scream, when something hit the door. Hard. A second later, again. Whoever was out there was done waiting.
    “Shit,” Shaun cursed, scanning the room.
    “Window?” I said, tugging him away from the door.
    “We’re on the third floor.”
    “Are you serious? You always get a ground-floor room. Always . You two suck at this!”
    “Sorry, it was all they had. And we didn’t expect company,” he barked. “You’re so fucking smart, what now?”
    There weren’t a lot of choices. Charging out the door wasn’t an option. If these were the same guys from the cabin—which I was betting all ten little piggies they were—they had guns. “Screw the third floor. Window. There has to be a window!”
    “The bathroom has one, I think. It’s small, though.”
    I looked from him to the door, then yanked hard on the shackle chain. “Fine. Let’s stay here then.”
    He mumbled something obnoxious, but it was lost to the noise outside as he dragged me in the direction of the bathroom. They’d given up picking the lock and had settled for busting down the door. The noise would bring the hotel staff—and eventually the police—but we’d be long gone by then.
    Or more likely, dead.
    Shaun shoved me into the tiny bathroom and locked the door behind us. I couldn’t imagine what help he thought it was going to be. A locked door obviously wasn’t an effective deterrent for these people. But, hey…maybe it made him feel safer.
    I turned to the shower, ripped aside the curtain, and cringed. There was a window, but small was an understatement. It was one of those vanity windows. There mostly for show and ventilation.
    Shaun shook his head. “There’s no way I’m going to fit through that…”
    “Yes you are,” I said, yanking him forward.
    I stepped into the tub and threw open the window. Mom always said that survival was eight parts following the rules, one part skill, and one part