And it’s my fault.
“Ring the guide,” I tell Charlie and Eddie. “Wemustget Bea out of here.”
“Dad—”
“She’s terrified of enclosed spaces.Ring the bloody guide. Now.”
Terrible time to realize one more reason to not do relationships.
Because when the woman you’re suddenly afraid you’ve fallen head over heels in love with is in danger, and you cannot assist no matter the sheer strength you’re putting into breaking down this bloody safe door, it feels as though your entire life is over.
I’ve hurt her.
I’ve put her into a small space.
And I can’t fix this fast enough.
Is she hyperventilating?
Does she know I’m coming?
Will she have nightmares?
“Problem, boss?” Pinky says above me.
My father’s voice and my mother’s voice and the voice of every bossy nanny I had in my childhood comes out of my mouth as I rise and point to the door. “Bea’s trapped and I’ve no idea what’s behind this door and I want her out and I want her outnow.”
Pinky looks over his shoulder to the spiky-haired guide. “Open this door.”
The guide frowns. “You did the key thing?”
“We did the key thing.”
“That’s supposed to open the door.”
“It did.”
“And leave it open.”
“Bloody hell,” I mutter. “Open the fucking door and get my girlfriend out of there.”
Yes.
My girlfriend.
Bea.
MyBea.
If she’ll forgive me for this.
29
BUT MY HEART DOESN’T FEEL TRAPPED
Bea
Breathe breathe breathe,I tell myself in the dark while I feel around the tiny space for a latch or a string oranythingto help me get out of here.
