Troubled Water » Outer Banks [JJ Maybank] BOOK TWO

VI: Off Keel

off keel
adj. out of balance, tilting to one side; figuratively, out of control, not proceeding or running smoothly.

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Two years ago, Lee had realized that she didn't have a bondage kink when she had been handcuffed in the back of a police cruiser and then forced to sit in a jail cell, hoping that Ward Cameron would have mercy and post her bail. On that day, she'd sworn to stop drinking underage. The sobriety hadn't gone smoothly, but staying out of jail had been pretty easy—up until a few weeks ago, when she'd been arrested in relation to the murder of Sheriff Peterkin, and so the story goes.

But today confirmed the lack of a bondage kink for Lee. Before, she'd only known for sure that she wanted nothing to do with handcuffs. Now, sitting on the cold concrete floor of a dark garage, with ropes around her wrists and ankles and a sweaty bandana in her mouth, Lee knew with great certainty that she never wanted to be physically detained by rope, handcuffs, or anything else ever again.

For the past several minutes, Lee had been using the "flop like a fish" technique in a futile attempt to loosen her bonds. Turns out, having ropes tied around your wrists and ankles won't be helped by horizontal twerking. It would just wear out your abs. Better news was that the bandana was starting to come loose—Renfield had not tied it very tight around her head, and the nodding motion that Lee had been doing was starting to work its magic.

"Ugh!" Lee groaned loudly as the bandana finally came free from her mouth. She shuddered involuntarily at the thought of how much of Renfield's sweat was in her mouth, then wondered how much bleach she could swish like mouthwash before it would cause permanent nerve damage. "Okay," she continued, "now what."

Sure, the obvious answer was to scream, but what allies did Lee have that could possibly hear her? She had no idea where JJ or Kiara were—and they didn't even know she was here, so would they come to her aid, even if they heard her? She suspected that Pope was in some way detained by Carla and Renfield. Just last week, Carla had shown Lee around the back gardens, ruminating on the Limbrey family's dark American history. She could only imagine that Pope was getting the same illuminating tour. Danny was long gone and the Limbreys' neighbors would likely only be annoyed if they heard screaming from the garage.

It was another solo mission for Lee, then. She wriggled into a sitting position, glancing around the garage and wishing Renfield had at least left the light on for her. Eyeing the rope tied around her ankles, Lee bared her teeth and attempted to lean between her knees. No chance—she couldn't get close enough to bite the rope, and did she really think she could untie a knot with her teeth? Another frustrated groan echoed around the garage and Lee let her head loll to the side.

Like headlights in the fog, Lee found salvation in the form of a rusting metal workbench on the far side of the garage. A corner of that table had caught her shirt last week, ripping a hole in the fabric and leaving a thin slice across her skin. She'd complained for several minutes to Danny that he should get rid of the table, but now, she was thankful that it was still there. She began to scoot towards the table with a motion similar to the one used when riding a floor scooter in elementary school. She'd always hated those scooters—always walked away from PE with sore fingers and busted ankles—but the technique was coming in handy. Once she had arrived at the table, Lee awkwardly shifted onto her knees and then, using as much momentum as she could create with a swing of her torso, backwards onto her feet.

"Hah!" Lee exclaimed victoriously, nearly losing her balance with her small celebration. "Whoa." Steadying herself, she shuffled towards the sharp corner of the table.

Lee did a movement like a bear scratching its back against a tree as she attempted to saw through the ropes around her wrists, cursing as she felt the metal scrape the edge of her right thumb. Just as her triceps were growing exhausted and she was preparing to succumb to the ropes, the material snapped and her wrists were dramatically released.