Eva didn't know how long she had been locked in there, but she couldn't wait any longer. Time wasn't on her side, and waiting could very well mean her death. Who knew what the other man would do when he returned?
As risky as it was, she stood a better chance if she acted now.
Her eyes remained fixed on the glass doors. The crowd outside was thinning, and she knew this was her opportunity. If she could slip in among them, she might be able to blend in and escape the clubhouse.
There was just one problem with that seemingly flawless plan.
Eva was still tied up—both her hands and feet.
The knife on the table was her only way out.
Gritting her teeth, she began to roll across the floor. Each movement was awkward and slow, her body resisting the strain. By the time she reached the table, her breathing had turned uneven.
She pushed herself upright onto her knees.
The knife was only an arm's length away now.
But there was a little problem with that—she had no hands to reach it.
