Just as the doors open, I glance up to his face and recognize the criminal who rode up the elevator with me late last night.
“You,” I snarl as I take in his face.
“What’s wrong, gorgeous?” he quips back. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
He steps into the enclosed space first, and I quickly follow, scanning his appearance, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. This is the same guy who looked practically homeless last night. He was covered in blood and reeked terribly. There’s no way…this is the same person. Now he’s covered in Tom Ford and Italian leather.
“Don’t call me that,” I mutter as I turn away from him and hit the button for my floor. He makes a sound in his throat as he notices the highlighted penthouse floor. “Do you have a problem?”
He only laughs to himself, and I have to grind my molars. This is the day from hell. First, it was the stifling enclosed space of the car with Freya, and now it’s the stifling enclosed space of the lift withthisguy.
The door doesn’t close right away, the lights flickering again, and I get a bad feeling in my stomach. Maybe I should take the stairs. It’s only six floors.
But then they start to close, and I breathe a sigh of relief. The sooner I get into my apartment, alone with my cat and a glass of Dalmore, the better. This day needs to end.
Only moments before the doors close, a hand is shoved between them, and they peel open slowly.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I grumble.
Freya is standing there, soaked to the bone with her thermal bag slung over one shoulder and a look of fierce tenacity on her face. I must be stuck in some nightmare, one where I’m forced to have uncomfortable conversations with everyone who hates me.
She marches onto the elevator and jabs a finger against my chest. “What is wrong with you?” she shrieks.
Behind her, the elevator doors close, and I shut my eyes in anguish.
“You’re not just going to leave me like that. I’m not going to let some spoiled little mama’s boy ruin the best job I’ve ever had, so I’m not leaving your side until you take it back!”
A snicker echoes in the small space, the guy laughing to himself as the elevator starts moving slowly.
Putting my hands up, I try to force Freya to give me some space. “Listen,” I start, but just then, the lights in the elevator flicker again, and the compartment shudders. We all brace ourselves on the mirrored walls, our eyes widening in panic.
“What was that?” she asks, looking around in fear.
“I think we’ve stopped,” the man says.
The buttons flicker on and off eerily. My heart picks up speed in my chest, and I stare at the doors, waiting for them to open.
Instead, the cabin goes dark.
Rule #5: Beware of old elevators in the middle of a thunderstorm.
Archer
As soon as the lights go out, there’s a high-pitched screamthat nearly pierces my eardrums. Small hands clutch my jacket, and someone burrows their face against my chest. I’m assuming it’s the girl who just ambushed our elevator ride.
A moment later, the emergency lights come on, illuminating the confined space in a warm, red glow. The buttons of the elevator are all dark.
“What’s going on?” the girl asks with a shake in her voice. “We’ve stopped. Why aren’t the doors opening?”
“Don’t panic,” I reply, placing an arm around her when she doesn’t let go of my jacket. “It’s just a power outage.”
Holding her with one arm, I punch the emergency button with my thumb. A bell rings, but that’s about it. Many of these old elevators aren’t equipped with emergency phones and generators in cases like these.
“Are we just stuck in here until the power comes back on?” she asks, reluctantly releasing my clothes.
“Afraid so,” I answer.
“We’re not going to…drop, are we?”
