He cut the plastic handcuffs away and gently inspected the red rings on her wrists. “Please stop wasting your energy. When Eric arrives, it’ll be okay.” He walked away.
She sat on the edge of the desk, pushed her hair back and watched the young man leave. She walked to the window and looked out—nothing but darkness then a few lights flickering through trees and scattering a large parking area. From every pore of her body, frustration, loss of sleep, anger, and pain suddenly began to build to a fierce explosion. “Bastards!” she yelled. Grabbing a crystal vase from a table, she entered the adjoining conference room and threw it against a windowpane, shattering the glass. Small pieces scattered and slivers sprinkled across the pale beige carpet. It felt so good to release her rage; she ran back to the office, snatched a heavy, battery-powered pencil sharpener on the desk and then ran back to the conference room. Jill blasted away at another set of windows.
The two security officers and the older man came rushing in. The blond had drawn his pistol. When he saw what happened he placed the gun back beneath his jacket in disgust. The older man made a quick exit.
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