his aunt last Christmas, he’d actually downloaded Dracula, thinking it’d be interesting to reread the old classic.
Fiction? My ass.
With an unnerving calmness, his captor had merely smiled, waiting a moment before replying as if he were choosing his words carefully. When he spoke, his voice had been thin, tight.
“Although I crave it beyond measure, I will not chance partaking of your blood. At least not now.”
Finn had known the day would eventually come when the bastard changed his mind. And he had a pretty good idea that when it did, it’d be his own last day.
The change in schedule could only mean one thing.
Today was that day.
An icy calm replaced his growing apprehension, crystallizing his thoughts into one single goal. To stay alive.
With his legs positioned shoulder-width apart, he wrapped his forearm around the chain hooked to his ankle shackle. At any moment, it would be pulled tight, the slack disappearing through a small hole in the wall and locked, immobilizing him in the corner of the room. Then the guy would enter the cabin, replace heavy work gloves with latex ones and get to work. Finn braced himself. There was no way he was going down without a fight.
Footsteps shuffled outside, then stopped, and the door inched open a crack. A surge of adrenaline shot through Finn’s veins—his captor had forgotten to tether the chain. This was the chance he’d been waiting for—the little freak had finally let down his guard.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
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