My shoulders screamed in protest as I twisted against the headboard, trying to work the frayed rope against the sharp metal point. The jagged edge had managed to cut through maybe a quarter of the thick cord, but progress was agonizingly slow. My wrists burned from the constant friction, and I could feel something warm—blood—trickling down my hands.
The sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway made me freeze. I quickly maneuvered back to a normal position, hoping the partially cut rope wouldn't be obvious. The door creaked open, and this time it wasn't the blonde man who entered.
The figure that stepped through the doorway made my blood turn to ice water in my veins. He was shorter than I remembered, more compact, but no less menacing. Dark curly hair framed a face that had hardened durin
