Yes, a plan. Marcelo retrieved the stake from his trousers and set to work on the knots remaining at his knees and ankles. He felt more confident that he could at least defend himself with his hands free and his mind undistracted by that awful gag.
He covered his mouth to quell the shaky laughter bubbling forth. He’d done it. Made so much progress. He, who no one from his family would suspect could cope in such a situation, had managed to partially free himself after being trussed up like the most dangerous of criminals, and was well on his way to completing the task.
And he’d killed a man. He’d likely never be able to scrub the memory of that awful moment from his mind. Would he have to do it again?
The driver’s words ran through Marcelo’s mind again, and his gut twisted with the realization he likely would have to at least attemptto kill this man. Kill or be killed.