(Highest Ranking #76 in Romance)
Chiara is a journalist. A good one. For the world to know that, all she needs is a scoop. Her instincts tell her that the Riders of Tyr have a few stories to offer to the public and she decides to expose them. Will h...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Chiara
I almost dropped the nail I have finally released after two long days of constant surprise checks when he entered the room. I didn't even hear him and then he came in with that towel around his waist, low enough to let his lower abs and that deep V show, dripping wet.
It keeps getting worse and worse each time I see him. He was fully clothed first, then he lost the t-shirt, then the unbuttoned jeans and now no jeans at all. I am tempted to wait around and see how he will appear before me next time. Seriously? No, of course not. That would be stupid, right?
Furious at my brain, that seems to be clogged by ripped muscles, olive skins and intense, pitch black eyes, I go back to work. Luckily for me, I finally freed the nail, minutes before he barged in like a wet dream come true. Chiara! OK, OK, I got this. All I need to do now is concentrate and try to do this with my left hand.
"Come on," I whisper and sweat breaks on my forehead.
A few more twists and I hear the faint click. I am free! I barely hold back from screaming with joy. Not yet, I remind myself and I rub my wrist. I move slowly on the bed but it's so old it creaks. As long as I don't step on the floor, I am on the clear. I need to be swift. He may come in for an impromptu visit any time now. I move to the edge of the bed and thank God it's close enough to the window. I first study it and I see it seems unlocked and unblocked.
I stand absolutely still and hear attentively. This would be more useful if my heartbeat didn't pound in my ears like a freaking rave party. I take a few breaths and I let the sounds in. I heard him move a while back. He must be sleeping in the room across from my makeshift prison. He hasn't moved and the bed didn't squeak but he must be there. Sleeping I hope.
I lean over and try the window. It's not locked and someone must be watching over me cause it doesn't even make a sound. I throw one glance at the door and open the window a bit more, enough for me to fit through. O look at my feet and I remember that I have no shoes. Not that the heels I wore to Vince's party would be useful now. No time for this! I extend my body and with one swift move I slide out.
Great! I do a quick round of triumph that is cut short. The moon is but a thin slice on the sky and is not much help. Where to now? There are mountains close to Berkeley but most of them are north so a safe bet is to go south so I scan the sky and I spot Ursa Major.
My mother taught me about stars and constellations back in our vineyard. We would lie in the middle of it on a blanket and she would point them out to me. Thanks, Mum, I find Polaris and go in the opposite direction. I am glad to notice that is also downhill. And I run.
***
The soles of my feet are a mass of torn flesh, my knees are shaking and my lungs fight to get a satisfying breath. I've been running for almost an hour. I fell, stumbled on rocks and branches and my arms are badly injured. I have a cut on my face by a thorn branch I didn't see. But I have to press on.
