Page 94
Story: The Heiress's First Date
He couldn’t resist a little shopping of his own.
“Thai? Pizza? Wings. Let’s do wings.” It’s been way too long since I’ve gotten to kick back, watch a game, and chow down on a saucy little chicken leg.
“Wings it is.”
He’s on his phone as the elevator lifts skyward. I’ve noticed the habit several times now. But again, timing is important. I don’t want to bring up something that will?—
The car jerks to a stop with a grind of metal, tossing me forward on my toes. So many things happen at once.
I slap an arm across King’s chest, steadying him as I brace a hand against the doors. The phone falls from his hand and skitters across the polished tile, stopping between two shopping bags.
The lights flicker and wink out, and a second later, a single bulb casts a blue glow over us.
Alarm floods my veins.
That’s not normal. We’ve never had any hiccups with the elevators in this building. First time for everything, I guess. I take a deep breath and start to ask King if he’s okay, but that’s silly. He’s obviously not okay even when the elevator isn’t freaking the fuck out.
“Well, that was exhilarating,” I murmur, trying to keep things light.
“Uh-huh.”
The man doesn’t sound the least bit convinced.
I look to see what floor we’re at and if there are indicator lights on the panel. I’ve never paid much attention to it before. Funny how you can use something every day and miss the details.
“Looks like we’re between floors,” I say, jabbing the door open button as a test, but nothing happens.
Well, fuck.
I hit the call button. It rings. Once. Twice. Three times. I hit the button again, hoping it disconnects, because we don’t need that sound pinging around the tin can like a pinball.
Beside me, King is pale as a piece of paper. He hasn’t moved. Didn’t pick up his phone. I’m actually not sure he’s breathing.
I turn and step in front of him. “Hey. They’ll get to us. The backup generator kicked on, so I bet if we’re having issues, another elevator is too. And maybe they hit the button faster than I did.”
No smile, no expression at all. He’s still as stone.
“King.”
His gaze finds mine so slowly I swear I’ve gone gray by the time those sea foam green eyes lock on me. The fear there is something I’ve never seen before. Wild, irrational, and carefully banked as if he doesn’t want me to know.
I might not be scared of elevators, but I’ve felt fear like that. Like I wouldn’t make it out alive. It’s a miracle I don’t freak out over small spaces, given the way my brothers liked to lock me in my closet.
They honestly thought imprisonment would make me less of a bookworm and more of a farm boy.
Little did they know, I eventually hid a book and a flashlight in my closet and would happily sit in there to read while they ranted.
I doubt King was locked in a closet as a kid. His family seems nicer and more understanding. Not to mention, someone would probably have heard him screaming.
So this is something else.
What did Alex do for Katherine when she had her panic attack? I have no idea what he told her before he put her in the back seat of the car, but physical contact seemed to have comforted her.
“It’s okay. We’re going to be fine.”
Nothing.
“Would it help if I told you about all the safety features built into elevators these days?”
“Thai? Pizza? Wings. Let’s do wings.” It’s been way too long since I’ve gotten to kick back, watch a game, and chow down on a saucy little chicken leg.
“Wings it is.”
He’s on his phone as the elevator lifts skyward. I’ve noticed the habit several times now. But again, timing is important. I don’t want to bring up something that will?—
The car jerks to a stop with a grind of metal, tossing me forward on my toes. So many things happen at once.
I slap an arm across King’s chest, steadying him as I brace a hand against the doors. The phone falls from his hand and skitters across the polished tile, stopping between two shopping bags.
The lights flicker and wink out, and a second later, a single bulb casts a blue glow over us.
Alarm floods my veins.
That’s not normal. We’ve never had any hiccups with the elevators in this building. First time for everything, I guess. I take a deep breath and start to ask King if he’s okay, but that’s silly. He’s obviously not okay even when the elevator isn’t freaking the fuck out.
“Well, that was exhilarating,” I murmur, trying to keep things light.
“Uh-huh.”
The man doesn’t sound the least bit convinced.
I look to see what floor we’re at and if there are indicator lights on the panel. I’ve never paid much attention to it before. Funny how you can use something every day and miss the details.
“Looks like we’re between floors,” I say, jabbing the door open button as a test, but nothing happens.
Well, fuck.
I hit the call button. It rings. Once. Twice. Three times. I hit the button again, hoping it disconnects, because we don’t need that sound pinging around the tin can like a pinball.
Beside me, King is pale as a piece of paper. He hasn’t moved. Didn’t pick up his phone. I’m actually not sure he’s breathing.
I turn and step in front of him. “Hey. They’ll get to us. The backup generator kicked on, so I bet if we’re having issues, another elevator is too. And maybe they hit the button faster than I did.”
No smile, no expression at all. He’s still as stone.
“King.”
His gaze finds mine so slowly I swear I’ve gone gray by the time those sea foam green eyes lock on me. The fear there is something I’ve never seen before. Wild, irrational, and carefully banked as if he doesn’t want me to know.
I might not be scared of elevators, but I’ve felt fear like that. Like I wouldn’t make it out alive. It’s a miracle I don’t freak out over small spaces, given the way my brothers liked to lock me in my closet.
They honestly thought imprisonment would make me less of a bookworm and more of a farm boy.
Little did they know, I eventually hid a book and a flashlight in my closet and would happily sit in there to read while they ranted.
I doubt King was locked in a closet as a kid. His family seems nicer and more understanding. Not to mention, someone would probably have heard him screaming.
So this is something else.
What did Alex do for Katherine when she had her panic attack? I have no idea what he told her before he put her in the back seat of the car, but physical contact seemed to have comforted her.
“It’s okay. We’re going to be fine.”
Nothing.
“Would it help if I told you about all the safety features built into elevators these days?”
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