Chapter 73

Malcolm drops to the floor loudly, completely knocked out, and I pant as I lock eyes with David.

Before addressing him, I grab Malcolm’s arm and drag him to the side. Picking up some spare cable ties from the floor, I tie his wrists and ankles together before securing him to the table leg against the wall.

Then I walk over to David and kneel in front of him, looking up. He has an expression behind his eyes that I can’t place, but it makes me nervous. His focus is lasered in on the specks of blood dotted over my face—the red patch on my jaw that tells him someone hit me there.

I place the gun I’m holding on the floor between us. Reaching behind me, I grab the knife in my waistband that I picked up on the way in and set about cutting the ties off his wrists.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” I whisper, moving down to his ankles.