BOOK ONE
1: Jax
Ten minutes until the prison break.
I tilt my head, listening for a sign that my plan has been discovered. A change in the guard’s pace. An alarm elsewhere in the compound. Unexpected voices or that particular sound of a hammer cocking in a gun.
But the normal routine is undisturbed.
If my team does the job well, it will remain that way, right up until I am gone.
Nine minutes.
I pass the time reading the last correspondence I sent to my extraction team regarding the escape. My own words reassure me that I have left nothing to chance.
The rope sizzles as it slides along your skin, like a flame zipping up a fuse. The stopper knot snaps into place, and you inhale sharply, ensnared by the bowline encircling your naked thigh.
Of course, there is no pretty girl on the receiving end. It isn’t intended to be a love letter. It’s the secret code I use with my network.
For those who understand it, I was clear in my instructions. Fire hazard. Prepare for a gas assault. Identify a secondary escape route.
I let no detail go unplanned.
Seven minutes.
The knots were my idea, an addition to our family code after my parents dropped out of the Vigilante world. Ropes are elegant. Knots are useful. Everything about this language appeals to my sensibilities.
Beauty. Power. Bondage.
I enjoy all three.
A buzzer sounds at the end of the long hall. The new guard shift is coming on duty. There will be a five-minute changeover, then it’s time to initiate the plan.
I’ll be ready.
2: Mia
This big house is so quiet, and I have nothing to do. I can’t help myself. I want to read the newest letter one more time.
I imagine sliding the corded rope through your silken folds. The first stopper knot catches against your swollen nub. You moan, and your voice is like a drug to my senses, intoxicating, addictive. I want to hear it again. I tug on the bowline, pushing the knot harder against your body.
My heart races dangerously fast. I press my hand against my chest as if that will slow it down.
I force my eyes from the page. If I don’t stop reading now, I’ll have another long lonely night on my cold pillow.
Actually, I will whether I keep reading it or not.
Your breathing speeds up and your hand reaches down. Naughty girl, I whisper, and loop a slipknot over your wrist. In a flash, your arm rises along the bedpost. I whip the rope around the wooden pole. You are secure now. At my mercy. Mine.
The paper crinkles in my trembling fingers. I flatten it back out on the wood surface of the old-fashioned desk that my aunt once prized more than any other item in her home. The house is so silent now that she is gone. Two weeks gone. Only the ticking of the grandfather clock in the front room breaks the eerie quiet.
I lean against the curved rails of the chair. Key parts of my body are warm and tense. I really should never have gotten involved in this crazy relationship, but it was just so…what had he called it?
Intoxicating. Addictive.
A long sigh escapes my chest. I pull the envelope from beneath the handwritten page and study the postmark for the hundredth time.
Ridley Prison.
