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Chapter Forty

The only makeshift weapon in the austere room was a clay bowl situated on the bedside table. Abby lunged for it, as Roman pounced onto the mattress. Grabbing the lip of the bowl, Abby smashed it into the side of his head, causing him to collapse as the ornament exploded.

Roman moaned as Abby scrambled off the bed. Due to her injuries, she moved far slower than she’d have liked, as though she were wading through quicksand. She crawled to the door, the swaying room and the hammering music added to the disorientation. She had to get to Gabe.

“You fucking bitch.”

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