The stranger sees Shawn getting up, ends the call, and rushes to help him. But Shawn shoves the guy back so hard that he crashes into the wall and the elevator teeters.
“Okay!”Shawn looks into the elevator camera. It’s like he’s staring into my eyes.“Okay. I swear. I won’t do it again. I swear. I swear. Just let me out!”
Satisfied that my point has been made, I log out of the elevator’s interface and type another message.
If you go back on your word, I will find you. And I will bury you alive in a tiny, little box. Somewhere no one will hear you scream.
SEND.
Shawn reads the message, and his eyebrows climb to his hairline. He looks up at the camera in abject horror.
Good.
The other man sees where Shawn’s attention has gone, and he looks up too.
My eyes widen, and my laptop nearly drops out of my lap. The stranger has almond-shaped eyes, a sharp jawline, and shoulders so broad they could carry a building.
But it’s not Elevator Guy’s violent good looks that send my watch screaming with yellow, warning codes.
It’s who he is.
And who I am.
My fingers reach out to touch the screen as I breathe in horror, “Finn?”
Chapter Seven
FINN
I think this guy escaped from the psych ward.
And while I don’t judge people with mental issues—I bet I’ll make a psychologist plenty of money someday—I don’t relish being trapped in an elevator with someone who needs professional help.
He’s talking to himself. Begging someone for mercy.
This is far outside of what I’m capable of handling.
To make matters worse, the guy slams me straight into the elevator when I try to help him and all the breath knocks out of me. My ribs protest, and I remember the nurse in the emergency room warning me not to leave my bed.
Guess I should have listened.
My head is swimming. I used every drop of adrenaline in my body to get to the hospital in the first place. I’m exhausted.
Black spots dance before my eyes.
The elevator starts moving again with no explanation. A second later, the doors open, and the guy I was trapped with dashes out. He’s moving so quickly that he trips on his own twofeet and goes sprawling into a fake plant that’s positioned right next to the elevator doors.
He and the plant go rolling.
There’s dangling feet and foliage. Dangling feet and foliage.
Then the guy pushes up, scrambles on all fours until he gets back on his feet, and beats a path around the bend.
I shuffle out more slowly, wheezing with pain. My ribs aredemandingI stop and sit for a moment, but I don’t want to be in this elevator for another second.
“Are you okay, young man?” An elderly lady dressed in a hospital gown stops and stares at me.
I want to answer her. Somehow, I get my lips to move, but no sound comes out.
