Fuck.
Did she get out of the mansion and into the garden?
The garage door slides open, and I bolt out of it, past the guards patrolling the driveway, around the pool. There is no sign of her.
Thick nausea floods me, getting worse by the second.
I’m jogging, my eyes darting left and right, my breathing heavy.
I run past the washing lines at the back of the house into an area where there are no guards, because there is no exit here.
And that’s when I find her.
At the back of the property is a wall so impossibly high, stone with natural rock features that the rain runs down in winter, it is a death trap for anyone who might consider trying to climb it—
Which is exactly what Tatiana is doing right now.
She’s already a few meters up from the ground, and her legs look shaky. She has no way of knowing that the top of the wall is covered with electric fencing and her climb will be for nothing.
I don’t know a single person on this planet who would have looked at this wall and thought it wasn’t a death trap.
Her determination is astounding.
With amusement, I wonder if she has limits to what she’s willing to do to escape her situation. By the looks of things, she’s even willing to risk her life.
My curiosity grows while my eyes trace over her ass, tight in the jeans she’s wearing. This is a great view of her. Her body flexes as she moves, carefully pushing the toe of her sneaker onto the next rock while she adjusts her grip.
I fold my arms over my chest as I stare up at her, squinting against the sunshine. Watching her take each step, I notice that she’s getting more and more nervous. If she dies, she’s useless to me.
The plan was a bad one, but this girl is so stubborn she’s refusing to let go of it.
I clear my throat, waiting for her to notice I’m watching. But she doesn’t.
“How’s it going?” I ask loudly.
Chapter 8 - Tatiana
The stupid car wouldn’t jumpstart; it turns out it’s not as easy as they make it look in the movies. I tried so many different wires against each other, and none of them did a damn thing.
It wouldn’t have worked, anyway. Even if I got that car started, the front gate is so heavily guarded that I wouldn’t have made it past without being stopped.
When I ran out the back and saw the wall, my heart sank into the pit of my stomach. Immediately, I knew it was a terrible idea, but I’m too stubborn to turn down any chance to get away from this guy, and it’s obvious I’m out of options.
So, here I am, maybe halfway up the wall, but too scared to look down to check my progress.
I thought this would be easier, but my fingers are aching as I grip against the little rocky pieces, and my nails are longer than they should be, and my arm and leg muscles are shaking so much I’m wondering how I made it this far in life without going to the gym.
One wrong move and I might die.
I close my eyes for a second and take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I made it this far—the top is about two meters away—I can do this.
I adjust my foot, pressing it harder against the stone, and lift my hand to reach for a higher rock.
“How’s it going?”
The voice comes out of nowhere, and I scream in fright. My focus is so single-minded, and I’m so tense, that I’d forgotten to keep an eye out for guards.
The fright throws me off balance. My foot slips, my knees bash into the stone, and suddenly I’m falling. I let out a loud, terrified scream, every cell in my body certain that I’m about to die, plummeting towards the ground beneath me.
