She jumped to her feet once more. She had a chance now, and she ran for it, but just as she approached her gun, the girls muffled warning filled the air once again, racing footsteps vibrated through the floor, and just as Tara spun around, she caught a glimpse of it all. The older woman, a shovel in her hand, as she sliced the air with it, whacking Tara right over the head.

Chapter Thirty Two

Tara’s eyes fluttered open as she tried to make sense of where she was. Her head was spinning. Her temple was wet and sticky with blood. She could feel a hand nudging her, and as she looked up, it all came flooded back. The girl was hunched over Tara, staring at her intently.

“You need to get up,” the girl whispered urgently.

Her hands were no longer tied. Her mouth was no longer taped. But as Tara tried to reach her own arm out, to push her body up, she quickly realized that her own wrists were now bound. The girl helped her sit up as she ripped the tape off her mouth. It stung.

“How are your hands untied?” Tara asked as the girl now worked on Tara’s wrists, trying to wrestle them free.

“You loosened the rope just enough. I was trying to pull my wrists free the whole time you were wrestling him, but I couldn’t quite get them out until after.”

“How long do you think we have?” It was all flooding back to her now, piece by piece and a jolt of adrenaline shot through her body.

“Hard to say. Probably not long.” The girl pulled at the rope hard, loosening it a bit, but Tara still couldn’t quite pull her hands through yet, and the girl wrestled with them a bit more. “So what are you, a cop?”

Tara nodded her head. “FBI,” she said as she suddenly remembered her gun and her phone. “My phone,” she uttered. “Grab it, it’s in my pocket.”

The girl shook her head. “He took it, I watched him.”

“And the gun?”

“He took that too.”

“And my keys?”

The girl nodded and Tara’s heart sank. They needed a plan.

“How’s your sister?” Tara asked.

She knew she and the girl could try and make a run for it, but it was the girl’s sister that wouldn’t be able to, and they couldn’t leave her to go get help. She would pay the price for it—once he knew.

Pain stroked the girl’s face. “I checked her pulse. She’s alive.”

Tara nodded. They needed to act quickly. She was alive, but for how long she would remain that way, Tara couldn’t be too sure. She needed to get her to a hospital. But without a phone, without her keys, and without her gun, they were sitting ducks. Suddenly, the rope around Tara’s wrists was loose enough and she pulled her hands free.

“Do you know where he might’ve put my things?” she asked as she rubbed her wrists.