THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

prove her own innocence. She patted the heavy band wrapped around her waist like a money belt. The strip of plastic held a fortune in gold coins that would bring her salvation.
    Or the end of her life.
    Twelve minutes, forty-two seconds until room check.
    Jagged sparks flashed across the eerie sky, nearer, but still too far away. Her heart pounded against her breastbone.
    Come on, God. Don’t I deserve one break?
    Thunder rumbled through the black heavens, longer than it had during the two power outages earlier in the week. They were common occurrences at the estate, cured each time temporarily by generators. She’d timed the last two blackouts. Should the Almighty-in-charge-of-weather deign to knock out the main electrical feed once more, she’d have nine minutes until three thousand volts surged through the chain link fence again.
    Three thousand volts or face Mason when he returned tomorrow morning – not much of a choice.
    The goal was simple. Escape or die trying.
    She still nursed wounds from her penance for that first attempt. Her hand unconsciously went to her sore ribs and she licked her cut lip. The guards hadn’t harmed her beyond bruising, but Mason enjoyed doling out his personal brand of punishment.
    The psycho had actually gotten aroused as he’d beaten her.
    In the dignified tone of a pompous professor, Mason had explained his actions. “Consider this step one in teaching you compliance and submission, Angelina.”
    He’d wasted his time.
    There would be no step two.
    Thunder barreled across the sky, directly overhead this time, rattling the delicate glass panels between her and the storm.
    Ten minutes, eighteen seconds left.
    Her restless fingers worried the cold silver band Mason had locked on her wrist. He’d smiled when he assured her the tracking device was for her own protection. That had been right before he promised to return by the time she’d healed.
    Cracked bones and bruises weren’t major concerns, but living to see her twenty-sixth birthday had become questionable.
    The guards had breathed a collective sigh of relief after her beating, sure that she would stay put.
    Only a crazy person would try to escape again.
    “We’ll see who’s crazy,” she whispered. “You son-of-a – ”
    Lightning exploded in a clap of thunder, so close her arm hairs stood on end.
    The entire compound fell dark.
    Angel hit the self-timer on her watch and dropped the compass down the front of her Lycra running top beneath a butter-yellow T-shirt. Mason’s choice of color. Not hers. Combined with matching shorts, she’d stand out like a beacon when the first lights popped back on.
    She pushed the French doors open and rushed into a cool rain that battered the second floor private balcony. She nudged the doors shut behind her. A worn navy blue ball cap shielded her eyes from the downpour and hid shoulder-length auburn hair she’d fastened into a ponytail.
    No going back now. Guards would enter the empty bedroom by the time lights flicked on.
    Feeling blindly in the dark for the rail that enclosed the balcony, she gripped the ledge, climbed over then locked her legs around the ten-inch thick center column. Her arms strained to hold her body’s dead weight. Tremors shook her at the fear of falling twenty feet. Wet polished marble offered no traction to slow her descent.
    She slid down the soaked surface. Friction burned both her hands and exposed legs in seconds. Tears, mixed with rain, poured down her face from the searing pain.
    She lost her grip ... and clenched her muscles, waiting for the impact. She plummeted through a black vortex. Sharp points stabbed into her shoulders and hips when she landed, but no excruciating pain from a broken bone.
    She’d been spared by a boxwood hedge.
    Like a turtle on its back in a bed of nails, she lay still, panting hard against the pain in her ribs. The insides of her legs throbbed and wet bullets of rain pelted her face. Drawing a deep breath, she kicked both feet and rolled to her side, dropping into a crouch to listen.
    No thud of heavy footsteps – yet.
    Time to get moving. Through the darkness, she counted memorized steps across the lawn. Lightning crackled and fingered through the dark sky. When grass changed to concrete, she sidestepped around the Olympic-size pool. Raindrops slapped the chlorinated water.
    Her feet met grass again exactly on count. She picked up the pace. Her shoulder bumped against a stone arbor strangled by jasmine vines. She