Superheroine - Chapter 28
Beth looked up as the man approached her cell. It was the man who had leered at her earlier.
“Let’s go, your terms are fine,” he said, unlocking the cell door with the key from the hook, and gesturing for her to exit. She still wore the handcuffs, so she took a moment to right herself and stand. When she moved out the door, Beth glanced back at him and saw his eyes travel up and down her body. She looked away.
As he directed her from the barn toward the farmhouse, Beth counted six men walking the grounds. Three of them talked among themselves, walking together, while the other three marched alone. All six men gazed at the beautiful woman walking toward the farmhouse.
When they reached the house, she noticed two more men downstairs, milling about in the hallway. One of the men was tall and lanky, while the other was bald, with tattoos covering his head. They held handguns at their sides and eyed her from down the hall.
She glanced toward the room holding her costume and necklace, but the door was closed. With a nudge, the man behind her directed her up the stairs. She reached the top of the stairs, stepping into the middle of a short hallway with a door at each end, and one straight ahead.
After waiting for direction from the man behind her and getting none, she turned to face him. He looked between the three doors, hesitating, before nodding to the door on the left. She walked to it.
He opened the door for her. She glanced in, doing a quick scan to see if any items jumped out at her for O’Shea to use to pick the cell locks. She needed more time to find out.
“There are towels in the bathroom,” he said. “Sorry, but no change of clothes.”
“I can’t exactly shower with my hands cuffed,” she said over her shoulder, holding up her hands.
He stared at her. A battle seemed to go on his mind, as he bit his lip and shook his head. A smile came to his face after a few moments.
“Why don’t I help,” he said, and gave her a push into the room. She stumbled and whirled to face him as he kicked the door closed. Their eyes met, and he was on her instantly.
She tried to get her cuffed hands up, but he plowed forward, wrapping one arm around her. As he pulled her close, her arms were pinned against her chest. She opened her mouth to scream, but he clamped his other hand over her face. He forced her backward and pushed her onto the bed. He leaned into her, and she felt his hot breath on her face as he spoke.
“You’re a high-class piece of ass,” he said, breathing heavily. “You ain’t fooling me with that innocent face. The way you move that hot body. That ass. You want this, don’t ya? It can be our little secret.”
She tried to bite the hand over her mouth, but he pressed down on her with enough force she could barely get her jaw open. Beth froze his other hand slipped from behind her back and tried to work its way between their bodies. He leaned back to give his hand room as he reached for the button at the front of her jeans.
When he leaned back, she saw her opening, lashing out at his throat with her cuffed hands. She didn’t hold back, hitting with all her strength, and keeping her fingers tucked in and her knuckles extended.
As the blow smashed into her attacker’s larynx, his eyes bugged out in surprise, and he wheezed and reached both hands for his throat. Beth jabbed again, extending her fingers and going for his eyes. As she connected, he opened his mouth to scream, but only a sharp wheeze came out.
Her attacker stumbled back, reaching for his eyes instead of his throat. Beth’s eyes darted about, spotting the lamp on the nightstand. She lunged for it, sliding away from him. She seized it with both hands, coming up swinging.
“You bitch!” he wheezed, just before the lamp crashed into his head. The frantic woman lost hold of the lamp on the rebound, but directed its fall toward the bed, where it landed on the mattress. She turned back toward him, ready to fight, but the fight was over. The man lay unmoving on the floor.
Beth’s heart felt like a stampede in her chest, but she pushed the feeling aside. She needed to act quickly. Thanks to her blow to the man’s throat, and her redirection of the lamp onto the bed, the encounter had been fairly quiet. But someone might come at any moment. There were two armed guards downstairs and at least six outside.
She bent next to the man, searching him and finding a keychain filled with keys. After finding the key to her handcuffs and freeing herself, she tiptoed to the door and put her ear to it. The hallway outside was quiet.
She reached for the doorknob but pulled back. There were more men down there. But so were her costume and necklace. Beth reached for the doorknob again and again pulled her hand back. She balled her fists in frustration, wrinkling her nose and staring at the doorknob as if it were mocking her. As much as it pained her, she had to be realistic about her chances. She wasn’t ready to give up on getting her items back, but she couldn‘t just wander into sure defeat.
With a grumble, she moved to the window, eased back the curtain, and peaked out. Nobody was below.
It looked to be less than a twenty-foot drop. She could use the blankets, tied to the bed, to lessen the distance. With a nod of determination, she slid the window open. The window was halfway open when movement below caught her eye. A guard came into view, marching around the corner. She quickly slipped back behind the curtain.
Beth balled her fists in frustration. The man appeared to be taking laps around the house. She couldn’t get the blankets out the window and lower herself to the ground without being seen.
She sighed in resignation. She would need to find another way. Perhaps she could at least find a tool to help O’Shea pick the cell lock, which had been her original reason for coming to the house. If she found something helpful, and hid it in her clothes somewhere, maybe she could get it to him. That assumed they would take her back to the cell, rather than exact revenge on her.
As Beth scanned the room again, her heart sank. The place didn’t appear to be occupied and was practically devoid of any miscellaneous items. There was the lamp she had used as a weapon, and one other lamp on a dresser. All other surfaces were bare.
Beth moved to the dresser and pulled open each drawer, finding them to be empty. She had similar luck with the nightstand.
She was about to take her search to the bathroom when she spied a wood cabinet door built into the wall, at about chest level. The young woman pulled the door open to see an empty opening. Beth realized this wasn’t a cabinet, but the remnants of an old dumbwaiter. She glanced down into darkness.
Tapping her lips, Beth apprised the opening. Before she could consider the matter further, she heard footsteps from outside the door, coming up the stairs.
“Dale?” a voice called.
She eyed the dumbwaiter, and with a shake of her head grabbed the sides and pulled herself into the opening. It was a tight fit, but with her feet extended she could press her back against one side and her feet against the other, and hold herself in place. She reached out with her hands and pulled the dumbwaiter door closed behind her.
Just in time. She heard the door to the room open, and the footsteps get closer.
“Shit, Dale!” she heard a voice say. The footsteps paused before moving past her hiding spot, likely to the open window. Moments later they darted past her position and out into the hall. Beth remained still for a moment, before getting to work. It was time to go down.
The descent was slow and uncomfortable. She was ten feet down when she almost lowered her upper body too far and started sliding. She shot her legs and arms out and caught herself, jerking to a stop. After taking a deep breath, Beth resumed her downward climb. Just as she thought her arms and legs would buckle under the strain, she reached the back of a door identical to the one on the second floor.
She waited for a moment, listening for activity, before pushing the dumbwaiter door open. She looked out at the room where she had talked to the large man, Demarco Dominick. More importantly, it was the room where she had seen her costume. The door to the room was still closed.
Her heart leapt in her throat. Her costume no longer sat on the end table, but now rested on the sofa. The main part of the costume and was draped over the back of the sofa, while her tights, boots, gloves, and necklace sat on a cushion.
Excitement coursing through her, Beth scrambled out of the dumbwaiter. Her feet hit the floor, and she scrambled to the sofa. Her necklace reeled her in like a lifeline. With no hesitation, she stripped off her clothes as if she were in a race. Within seconds she was slipping into her costume and fastening the necklace in place.
A smile crossed her face as the familiar surge of power coursed through her body. She finished by sliding on her boots and checking her appearance in an ornate mirror on the wall. She radiated an aura that defied the fact she had been bound in a dusty barn for hours. It was as if she were on a Hollywood runway, with spotlights sparkling off her. The costume hugged her slender curves, with the short skirt highlighting her thin, slightly muscled legs. Even her blonde hair gleamed in the light, framing her stunning features.
There was no time to admire herself. She hid her clothes under the sofa, before moving to the door and turning the handle. It was time for business.
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