Risqué Business (Club Risqué #8)

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

W hatever small hope Melody had of outrunning the guy who was one of Vinny’s old cronies, came crashing down - quite literally - when his pounding footsteps caught up with her and a hand in the long hair that was flying behind her brought her to an abrupt and painful stop.

The sudden cease of momentum forced Guthrie off balance too, and the pair of them tumbled across the blacktop.

Instinct and months of training had Melody tucking and rolling, giving her the advantage over her aggressor, who wasn’t so fortunate.

Using the element of surprise, Melody didn’t even think about her actions. She was in full fight or flight mode, and since running hadn’t been successful, there was only one alternative left to her, because she knew what would happen if Guthrie got the better of her.

Spinning and using all the momentum from her body, Melody hit him in the chest with a roundhouse kick, grateful she was wearing a sturdy pair of lace-up boots.

The man went down, and not wanting to chance her luck, Melody sprinted back towards the vehicle, which still stood with the driver’s door wide open.

She couldn’t drive, but if she could just manage to get inside and lock herself in, she could phone Micah, or the police. Or both.

She almost made it, but a few feet away, something hit the back of her legs and she pitched forward, grazing her hands as she threw them out in front to save herself. She was scrambling to get up when something much bigger and heavier landed on her back, and rough hands closed around her throat.

No! She wasn’t going out this way. Not after everything she’d done to free herself and finally start living her life. This asshole didn’t get to take that away from her.

Guthrie might outweigh her, but he lacked technique or finesse, and Melody was beyond grateful for the self-defence classes she’d been taking, even though they’d been more to build agility and muscle than because she thought she’d ever have to defend herself.

Keeping her calm, despite the choke hold he had on her, Melody hooked a foot around one of Guthrie’s flailing legs, and rolled the two of them over, breaking his hold in the process.

With the element of surprise on her side, she drew back her elbow and aimed it right at his windpipe, not holding anything back. She was literally fighting for her life.

Guthrie’s mean, piggy eyes widened in shock, and he clutched at his neck while Melody scrambled to her feet and kicked him square in the face with the heel of her boot, right between his eyes. He crashed backwards, his head rebounding off the tarmac with a sickening crunch and a pool of blood started seeping around his still form.

For a moment, Melody just stood there, staring. Wondering if she’d killed him, as she panted heavily and sucked oxygen back into her lungs. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t taking any chances.

Not even waiting to check if he was breathing or not, she galvanised herself into action and ran to the car to see if she could find something to secure him with. Popping the trunk, Melody was horrified to find what could only be described as a ‘kidnap kit.’ There was rope, zip ties, duct tape, and a dark coloured bottle wrapped in a cloth, which she realised was chloroform.

Scooping it all up, she ran back to where Guthrie lay on the ground and made swift work of zip-tying his wrists together, which wasn’t nearly as easy as they made it look in the movies.

His eyelashes fluttered and he made a gurgling, groaning sound, proving he wasn’t dead. Not trusting the zip ties, Melody doused the cloth with the chloroform and held it over his nose and mouth until he went still again. At least that part worked like she expected.

She saw another car and almost wept with relief when she saw the taxi she’d called slow down, but instead of stopping, the driver took one look at her and the man on the ground, swerved around the two of them, and sped off again.

“No! Wait!” Melody screamed, running after him and waving her arms, to no avail.

“Asshole!” she yelled after him as he disappeared into the distance.

Turning back to Guthrie, Melody tried her luck with the rope and finally felt like she had him contained. She even hauled his deadweight ass out of the road, so he didn’t get run over. Not that she’d have shed any tears if that had happened, but she didn’t want it on her conscience.

Unlike the unconscious man in front of her, she had one.

Using the last of her adrenaline fuelled strength, Melody managed to tether the guy, so he was also bound around his chest and bound to the vehicle by the door handle. As a final precaution, she tore off a strip of duct tape and secured it over his mouth.

That’s when the adrenaline crash hit her.

Melody started to tremble, her whole body shaking in response as various aches and pains started to make themselves known.

Her breath started to hitch, coming faster and faster, and she desperately looked around for her phone. Spying it on the ground where it must have fallen out of her pocket, she grabbed it up, only to let out a pained shriek when she saw the vein-like cracks across its surface. Desperately pressing buttons, Melody let out another wail when she realised it was completely destroyed.

“Nooo!”

Trying to keep it together, she gingerly checked Guthrie’s pockets to see if he had one. Not finding anything, she checked the vehicle, but without any luck.

“Oh god! What am I going to do?”

Guthrie started to groan again, the chloroform already wearing off, and Melody couldn’t bear to see him or hear him. She was on the verge of falling apart and just wanted to be gone from there.

Her head in a daze, she turned and started walking, not even thinking about what she was doing or where she was heading until she found herself back outside the cottage again.

Standing and staring for a moment, like she wasn’t quite sure how she got there, Melody dragged her tired body up the steps of the porch and collapsed under the shade of the veranda.

She didn’t know how long she sat there. Time stopped having any meaning, and Melody had no idea how long it took for her to come back to herself. When she finally did, she sat and enjoyed the peace and quiet of the environment, soaking up the wonderful aura of the place and allowing it to bring peace to her soul.

Yes. This was definitely her forever home. This was the place where she’d taken a stand and fought for her life and her independence in more ways than one. And now, when she needed strength and fortitude, it gave her shelter and soothed her soul.

Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to draw strength from her surroundings and the knowledge that the final threat to her freedom, to her future, was erased.