Why did he think he had the right to do this to her? To torture her? To keep her captive? Expect her to pee in his awful pail and drink his goddamned protein drink and be grateful that he was keeping her alive for a few more hours or days in this damp, smelly, filthy dungeon? What kind of a neat freak was he? Folding clothes gently, sniffing crotches of panties, and keeping her captive in this sty?

She clutched the bit of glass.

Oh, hell, he was getting ready to leave! He’d straightened this prison cell as best he could and seemed agitated, angry. Muttering to himself, he patted his pockets and found a cell phone.

A cell phone!

Her heart leaped as he dragged the ladder into place and wedged the rails into the trapdoor above. Could she somehow get away and maybe steal his phone from him in the process?

Get the drop on him and call 9-1-1?

She couldn’t believe her good luck. Now, if she only had the nerve . . . God, help me. Her mouth grew dry, not a drop of spit in it.

She had to try. Before he left. It was her only hope.

Did his damned phone work underground? Where the hell would the nearest cell tower be?

Shit, shit, shit!

She amped herself up.

“I told you,” he was saying. “I’ll get her in the morning, yeah, yeah, with the damned dog . . . what? The other one? She’s here. Got her.” He glanced at Chloe over his shoulder. “Trust me, she’s no problem. It’s the other one. Zoe. That little cu—er, bitch that got free, but no worries. I’ll get her. First light.”

So he hadn’t caught Zoe. There was hope....

He fell quiet for a moment, then went on. “Yeah, I know, I know. For Christ’s sake I get it. She’s first . . .” Another pause. “No, no. This one will wait. Uh-huh. Second-born. Always weaker.” Then a merciless laugh. “Yeah, that’s right. Like the runt of the litter.” Another ugly chuckle.

He paced, listening, and Chloe quietly gathered her legs under her. If she could just catch him unaware, while he was on the phone, one hand busy holding the cell to his ear . . .

Do it. Do it now. Before he hangs up!

“Look, just have some faith, Myra. I’m on it,” he was saying as he turned his back to his captive.

Holding the shard in her palm, Chloe perched on her feet, still huddled down, and took a deep breath.

NOW!

Without another thought, she sprang.

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 17

“Owwwwrrrrr!”

Son of a bitch!

The pathetic little bitch had blindsided him!

Launching herself at his back from the dark corner of the cell, she’d wrapped her legs around his torso and clamped herself on. Holding on with her legs, she’d reached over his shoulder and, using both hands, rammed something sharp and hard into his cheek.