“Carter!”
He jolts up in response to the alarm in my voice. The intruder shines a light at him, that's when I get a better look, but it's not much. His face is covered in a mask so that his lips and eyes peek through. I see little flashes of residual light in my vision, making it hard to adjust to the darkness.
“Who the hell are you?” Carter asks.
The man grabs my arm and pulls me up. I let out a cry, but suck it back in when a cold blade rests against my neck.
“Oh my god,” I sob.
“I just want your money. I don't want to wake up the boy. Do you?”
Carter puts his palms out, showing he's willing to cooperate.
“Take whatever you want. Please just don't hurt her.”
“I won't. Just do what I say.”
The knife slips away from my neck, but as soon as that relief hits me, there's a poke in my back, just where my heart would be if the knife sliced through my ribs. I kneel in between him and Carter. Even if Carter, a 6'4” former collegiate volleyball player with a great reach could get to him, I'd get caught up between them. I'd probably get stabbed.
“Tie him up,” the devilish voice orders.
“We'll do what you want. You don't have to tie—”
The knife pinches my skin. “Do it.”
“O—okay.” I reach carefully for the rope. It looks like my stepfather's climbing rope.
“Turn around,” the masked man directs Carter. “Hands behind your back.”
Carter purses his lips, his barely-awake mind wrestling with his options, and turns with a protesting huff. I sob as I wrap the rope around his hands.
“I'm sorry,” I whisper to Carter.
“Don't talk. Tie it tight,” the man grunts. I can tell he's trying to disguise his voice.
“It's okay, Vesp. Don't be sorry. Just stay calm.”
“Enough.”
I nod and tie the rope as weakly as I can without being obvious.
“Feet,” he grumbles.
I take the other rope and bind Carter’s feet.
The man pushes me to the side and tosses the flashlight haphazardly on the bed, so that it shines away from us.
“You run and I'll take the boy,” he warns. My thoughts go to Johnny. He had been in the back of my mind, but the scene had been so focused to this room. I realize I have to do whatever it takes to keep that man away from him, even if it means to fully cooperate. He just wants money. I'll give him everything we have.
I sit at the edge of the bed, trembling, stifling my cries as he redoes my handiwork, tying Carter in a complex series of knots, attaching the feet and arms so that he's hog-tied. He grabs a tie-dye scarf from the bed and covers Carter's eyes. It's the first time I get a full view of the intruder, head to toe. He's not short, but not as tall as Carter, maybe five-eleven or six feet. I can tell through the dark shirt and military-style pants he's wearing that he's built. Not thick and muscular like a bodybuilder. More lithe, like an athlete. Like a lacrosse player. Carter may have him beat on height, but this guy looks more solid, and I'm not sure Carter could take him. I know I'd certainly be no match.
Once he has Carter immobilized, he turns his attention to me, walking over to the chair I keep by the closet and lifting the cushion. There's twine underneath it. It doesn't make sense.
He walks over to me, remarkably light on his feet, despite the tall black boots he's wearing. He reaches down and turns off the flashlight and puts it in his pocket.
“You okay?” Carter asks. He's lying on his side on the bed, facing away from me, but he tilts his neck a little to address me.
“Mmmhmm,” I mutter, afraid of upsetting the man tying my hands behind my back. He reaches for the other scarf and places it in his pocket. Gripping the painfully tight ligature around my hands, he pulls me to my feet.
“Show me where your purse is,” he commands, pushing me out the door. “Move and I'll kill all of you. I'll slit the boy's throat.” He closes the door behind him and shoves me against the opposite wall. He pulls twine out of his pocket and ties it around the bedroom door handle, dragging the other end across the hall to the bathroom, and ties it to that door handle. It makes it impossible for Carter to open the door, and if he tried it would be noisy. He blindfolds me next.
“How can I show you anything?” I snipe. He doesn't answer.
My gut twists in sickness. This is too much work for someone who wants a purse. But I'm bound and Carter is trapped, and Johnny is still tucked in bed. I have no choice but to quietly comply.
He yanks me by the arm and drags me to down the hall. His hands grip my waist and he sends me launching onto a bed. We're in my parents' room.
“No,” I whimper. I want to scream, thrash, fight. But my hands are numb from the binds and he's strong. And if I run, he could hurt Johnny.