His hand is warm in mine, as we work along the rows of parked cars and limousines.Before this job, I always imagined limos just cruised the streets, or evaporated, or something while the beautiful ones who get to ride in them were about their business.Seeing row upon row of them in a parking lot seriously detracts from the glamour.
As the minutes pass and there’s no sight or sound of any other person, it gets harder to believe there’s a threat out there lurking.We pass by a fenced off area that houses the hotel bins and recycling.Crates upon crates of empty beer bottles are stacked in unstable looking towers.“It’s like something out of a zombie flick,” I observe.
Dylan grunts disgustedly.“Is that supposed to help put me at ease, cause all the zombie flicks I’ve seen inevitably feature people getting eaten, and not in the sexy sense.”
He’s more jumpy than I realised, but I suspect there’s a lot that goes on in Dylan Drake’s head that the world isn’t privy to.
“Are you sure the car’s even in this blinking lot?”Dylan mutters.There’s a tremor in his words that’s echoed inside his flesh.I can feel his pulse beating in his fingertips.“Is there another level?”
“Not according to the schematics.Hang in there.It’s going to be all right.”I give his hand a squeeze and he freezes.
Then inexplicably, he’s shaking me off and backing away from me, like it’s me he’s scared of and not whoever the hell it is that’s running around with the gun.
“Dylan, what he fuck!”My eyes are adjusted to the dark, but visibility beyond a couple of metres remains shockingly poor.“What’s the matter?”
“You.You’re the fucking matter.What the fuck are you doing to me?”He stumbles away from me until he collides with the wall, then he backs up until he’s wedged into the corner.“What are you doing to me, Kira?”His hands pull at the inky strands of his hair, and his eyes are wide with fear.
What am I doing to him?Rescuing him, I hope.I even tell him as much, which just twists his face into a deeper scowl.“My assignment brief says I’m to protect you, so that’s what I’m doing.We’ll get out of here, Dylan.”
There’s more than a touch of vehemence in his eyes as he shakes his head dismissing the idea that’s my true purpose.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean.We’re not talking about your job, but whatyouare doing to me.”
“I have no idea what that might be,” I say carefully.It’s the truth.“Dylan, I think you’re in shock.You’re not making sense.I need you to hold it together for me a little longer until I can get you somewhere you can lie down.”
Shit!Maybe he got injured without realising it.The only way I can definitely rule that possibility out is to get close to him.I approach making sure to telegraph each step so as not to surprise him.He still raises his hands as if to ward me off.
“Oh Jeezus.”He packs himself tighter against the concrete wall.“Stop it.Don’t.”
“Stop what?”
“This.Everything.The way you’re looking at me.Don’t look at me like that.”
“How am I looking at you?”
His fingers rake through the dark tumble of curls that frame his narrow face, then his hand falls to his side as if it’s too heavy to hold up.“Stop it!”
“If I knew what it was that I’m supposed to stop.”
“You know.”
“Dylan, I don’t.”
He raises his hand, palm facing me, fingers stretched.“Stay back.”His lips twist into a vexatious pout.
“Dylan, I can’t do that.I think you might be injured.I need to find out.Once I’ve done that, we can refocus on getting you out of here and back to your hotel.”
“I’d really prefer it if you didn’t come any closer.”He tries to back up, but he’s already in the corner.
“Dylan, I’m not the person you need to be worried about.I’m trying to help you.”
He huffs, and stares at me as if I’ve grown a second head.“Lady, you’re the only person I need to be worried about.You’re the one who’s been driving me demented all night.You’re the one who has me cornered, and who’s so determined to save me.Will you please, for God’s sake, stop looking at me like that?”
“Like—” I mean to say “what?”but Dylan cuts me off by covering my mouth with his fingers.
This close to him, I concede the panic in his eyes is genuine, but I don’t comprehend its cause.He doesn’t appear to be injured as I feared might be the case.“How do you imagine I’m looking at you?”
“This way,” he pants.“Like you’re about to swallow me…or eat me…or fuck me.”A shiver rolls right though him as he says the last, and finally I start to unravel his fear.
