Page 55 of Wicked Little Darling

“What are you doing?” I asked, simultaneously confused and amused. He was still clutching my arm, his fingers digging into my skin like little points of pain. Someone spoke just outside the door, and I tilted my head.

I knew that voice.

“Reese, what?—”

A clammy palm was pressed over my mouth.

“Shut up,” he whispered. His chest brushed against mine, and when I went to take a step back, my foot hit something that rattled against the wall behind me. Reese let go of my arm and grabbed my waist, squeezing as he pulled me toward him. “Don’t move!”

The panic in his voice was jarring, and I wanted to put him at ease but an intense need for some light took over and I reached out in the dark, trying to find a light switch. My arm bumped against something to my right, and it clattered noisily. The space was so cramped that I wondered if we were in some kind of supply closet.

A heavy pressure started to build in my chest, and there was an anxious buzzing under my skin. A sliver of light spilled from the crack under the door, illuminating Reese’s dirty sneakers that were toe-to-toe with my boots.

“Reese, why are we?—”

He pressed his hand even harder against my mouth.

He was trembling. Or was I trembling? Was it hot in here?

The voice on the other side of the door grew louder, and I finally recognized it.

Fucking Albert.

Was that why Reese had flipped out? But why? Was he afraid of Albert?

A burning sensation flared in my stomach and spread through me like fire at the same time a ringing started in my ears. The air in here felt too thin all of a sudden, so I focused on Reese’s hand over my mouth to try and stop the flood of anger and fear and whatever else it was that was making me feel like I was being crushed.

His hand smelled like paper and soap, and the urge to lick it like I had the other night drowned everything else out for a moment.

I slid my tongue past my lips and touched it to his skin. He made a weird sound, like he was choking, then pulled his hand away and shoved me in the chest.

“Stop doing that!” he whisper-yelled. I lost my balance and grabbed onto his arms as I crashed into a shelving unit behind me. Reese fell into me as I slid down to my ass.

The small sliver of light under the door was bringing up memories from a long time ago. Things I’d buried deep and tried to forget, things I never wanted to experience again.

“Reese,” I whispered, gripping his arms. I was shaking, my body humming with a panic I didn’t understand. My breaths came in shallow, ragged pants, my lungs were on fire, and I felt dizzy, like I might pass out.

Albert’s voice sounded right outside the door, and Reese froze on top of me when Albert said, “I’ll need to ask him. No, it won’t be an issue. Fine.”

His footsteps were loud—he was wearing those stupid fucking wingtips I hated—then gradually faded as he walked away.

“You’re hurting me,” Reese said softly. He tried to push off my chest and stand, but I was holding onto him so tightly he couldn’t move. “Dakota?”

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to push away the panic.

“Whoa, hey…why are you breathing like that? What’s wrong with you? Do you have asthma?”

“Open the door,” I gritted out. “I can’t breathe, open the fucking door?—”

“Okay! Alright, I’ll open the door, but you have to let go of me.” He tugged his arms out of my grasp, and I reluctantly let go of him. As soon as he wasn’t touching me, the fear surged and wrapped itself around me, constricting my chest and pricking like sharp needles along every nerve ending.

“Fuck,” he muttered. Something banged on the floor as he shifted around, and then there was the sound of the doorknob rattling.

But the door didn’t open.

“No,” Reese whispered. He started making frustrated little noises as he jiggled the handle again and again.

I laughed, because of course. Were we seriously locked in here? With no oxygen?