Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
No matter.
I take a heavy-looking modern sculpture off one of the side tables by the couch and ram it against the glass. It takes a few tries, but I eventually shatter it.
Bianca gasps.
I glance over my shoulder. “Guess they’ll have to take that out of our incidentals charge.” I gesture to the bedroom. “Come on. We can make a rope out of the bedsheets and swing down to the balcony below. That room hopefully won’t be locked from the outside, so we’ll be able to break in and get free.”
“What if there’s someone in the room already?” Bianca looks down at the plush bathrobe she’s wearing. “Need I remind you this is all I have to wear?”
Shit. I changed before I went to get breakfast, but Bianca has only the robe. And the bellhop never dropped off our bags.
“We’ll figure it out,” I say. “Worst case, we’ll pop into a thrift shop and buy you some clothes.”
“With what money? I’m assuming you don’t have your wallet on you, either.”
Fuck. She’s right.
“Again, we’ll figure it out. Right now our only priority is to get the fuck out of here before Rose can get in contact with your sister. After that, we’ll take it one step at a time.”
She draws in a slow breath. “Okay.” She heads toward the bedroom, returns with all the sheets in a bundle, and throws them down on a Turkish rug near the sliding glass doors. “Do you know how to make a rope?”
“I think so. We’ll have to cut the sheet into strips.” I look around. “Anything around here that we could use?”
“Maybe there are some knives in the kitchenette.” Bianca crosses the room and opens a few small drawers. She pulls out a chef knife. “Bingo!”
I scoff. “As if anyone who ever rents this room would cook for themselves. But I’ll take a win where I can.” I hand her the sheet. “You hold it taut while I cut it into strips.”
Soon we have a dozen strips of cloth at our feet.
“The next thing we do is braid the sheets into makeshift ropes. That way they’ll be stronger and we won’t have to worry about them breaking under our weight.”
She nods. “I can do that. I’m sure a flat braid will work just fine. I have lots of practice from braiding my dolls’ hair when I was growing up. Never thought I’d use those skills to save my own hide, but here we are.”
She lays the strips parallel to one another and slowly weaves them around each other. It takes a while, but within the next forty-five minutes, we have a few yards’ worth of material to work with.
“This should be enough for us to swing down to the next balcony,” I say.
“But will it be strong enough?” Bianca asks.
“Only one way to find out.” I secure the rope to the edge of the balcony, give it a few strong pulls, and then sweep my right leg over the side of the balcony.
“Harrison, no!” Bianca cries out. “We need to test it first.”
“We don’t have time, babe. It’s been nearly an hour since we were locked in this room. We need to neutralize Rose quickly.” I wave her over.
“There must be some other—”
“There isn’t.” I reel her in for a quick kiss. “If anything happens to me, know that I love you more than anything in the world.”
“I love you, too.” She wipes a tear from her cheek.
I grin. “See you on the other side.”
I bring my other leg to the exterior of the balcony and then, before I can think better of it, I take a leap of faith.
The rope holds, and I swing down onto the balcony of the room below us.
“Harrison?” Bianca calls from above.
“It’s okay. The rope held.”
“All right. I’m coming after you.”
I’m not as worried now. If the rope held me, it’ll certainly be able to bear Bianca’s weight.
She swings down into my open arms and I help her down to her feet.
Her eyes are wide. “I would like to never do that again.”
“Deal.” I give her another kiss and then gaze into the hotel room.
Damn. It looks lived-in. A few pieces of clothing strewn about the floor, an open suitcase on a luggage rack, and a few faint curls of steam coming from the bathroom door.
“They’re in the shower,” I say. “We have to get in quickly.”
I slide the door open, looking around. No one else in the room. It’s a straight line to the front door. Good.
We’ll have to act quickly.
I steal into the room and make a beeline to the front. I’m just about to make it when I find an answer to our next problem—getting Bianca some clothes—lying on top of the room’s minifridge.
A man’s wallet, stuffed to the brim with bills.
Finally, a fucking break for the two of us.