Rules of Survival(10)

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 f*cking 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 luck. Thankfully—or on the off chance you were me, unthankfully—that one part luck was with me at that particular moment. Down on the ground, below our bathroom window was the hotel’s heated swimming pool.

A wave of nausea washed over me. Water. I would have preferred to take my chances jumping onto concrete from seven stories up than jumping into water. I’d almost drowned when I was six. Water was my kryptonite. “Shit.”

“What?” Shaun snapped, pushing me aside to peer out the window. He looked both ways, then pulled his head back inside. “What’s wrong?”

I hated the terror in my voice. Mom taught me to be strong. To do the things that needed to be done. Fear or not, you pushed through because the alternative wasn’t really an option. But this… “Water. The pool. I can’t—”

He was looking at me like I was crazy. “There’s a ledge. We can make it to another room. We’re not jumping!”

I nodded looked down. Ledge. Another room. That sounded like a good idea to me. Why the hell hadn’t I seen that? I pushed out the screen. It fell to the ground and landed in the bushes below.

With a deep breath, I tugged on the shackles. “Hurry up and undo these.”

Shaun nodded, frantically digging into his pocket. “Um…”

Panic welled inside my chest. “Please tell me um is code for right away!”

He peered over his shoulder at the door, and when he turned back, his face was pale. “I lost the key.”

“You lost the—” This wasn’t happening. First the water, now I had to climb out a window and scale a micro-thin ledge shackled to one of the guys trying to send me to jail? “Fine. We’re climbing out together then. Help me up…”

His free hand cupped my backside and pushed.

“Hey!” I snapped as the warmth from his hand seeped through my jeans. “Watch the hand.”

He gave another good shove. “Are you serious? I think we’ve got more important things to worry about than me accidentally copping a feel. Besides, there’s nothing there to cop. You’ve got, like, no ass.”

I managed to get my leg out after several awkward tries that included banging my head against the sill twice and jarring my shoulder. A moment later, my foot found the ledge and I let go of the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. It wasn’t easy, but I extracted myself from the window—everything except my left hand, which was still attached to Shaun’s right one.

A loud noise came from beyond the bathroom door. “Move it! I think they made it past the door.”

Shaun peered out the window and took a deep breath, stuffing his leather jacket through the hole. “Hold this,” he said, swinging a leg out.

He reached up and grabbed the rim of the window, yanking my arm and bracing himself as he hefted upward. With the extra leverage, he was able to swing his legs through. It was a tight fit, but it was working.