His gaze makes my heart rate pick up. I don’t know why he’s so unfriendly all of a sudden. Maybe he feels death brushing past him just as I do? Maybe he’s scared too? My stomach cramps.
“I need to pee.” The words hop out before I can stop them.
Eric turns toward me. I know what he’ll say. I can already see the smirk and hear the lewd comments. Bracing myself, I raise my head and meet his gaze. He looks eternally tired, there’s no smirk on his face and all he does is nod.
“I don’t know how,” I mumble, my cheeks suddenly as warm as I wish my entire body were.
He laughs. “You don’t know how to pee?”
“Come on.” A bolt of anger flares up in me. “You know what I mean. I don’t know how to manage it in here, not making a smelly mess all over, and with you here.” I inhale deeply, and fight the cramp in my lower stomach, squeezing my thighs tight.
“Yeah, I get it, but you asked for it.”
“I didn’t ask for any of this!” I snarl.
“Neither did I.” He sighs. “Neither did I.” He looks at me, his eyes narrowing. Glancing around the small space, he then looks back at me again. He seems to be plotting. It always makes me nervous when his eyes betray nothing and there’s still so much going on in there. Behind me are the doors and his gaze shifts from me to them.
When he takes a step forward, I back up, my heart stuttering.
“What? Are you scared of me all of a sudden, Anna? A few minutes ago you had your head on my lap, love.” The taunt in his voice is back.
I swallow hard as I regard him. “Just careful.”
He grins and reaches for me. I try to dodge him, but he slams one palm against the wall next to me and places the other on my hip.
I gasp and push at his chest. “What are you doing?”
“Be still.” His voice is so stern it makes me freeze on the spot.
“Good girl,” he whispers in my ear as he searches along the side of my right hip and then pats down my left side. A turmoil of panic surges through me and I push at his chest again. If he’s going to hurt me, I’m not sure I have enough strength left to defend myself. Eric’s hand dives into one of the pockets in his suit jacket and then he takes a step back, smirking, holding a folded envelope. He waves the paper. “Some info. Got no use for it now.”
I frown, not getting his sudden glee.
His smirk transforms into more of a smile, and my heart trembles for a beat as his eyes glitter. “Here’s what you do.” He points behind me, at the doors. “Look at the crack.”
I turn to see what he’s pointing at then back at him, shaking my head, thinking he’s finally lost it. I have no idea what he’s on about.
He unfolds the envelope. “You sit, hold this at an angle under you, and let it pour through the crack under the doors. No mess. Get it?”
I stare at him in amazement. That’s why he came at me? Not because he intended to hurt me, or worse, but to help me pee? My lips twitch, and before I can stop it, I start laughing.
Eric looks hurt. “What’s with you? It’s a good plan.”
I laugh until tears fall on my cheeks. “It—” I sob. “It is.” I giggle hysterically. “I thought…” I wipe the wetness off my face with the sleeve of his jacket. “Give it to me.” I reach for the envelope. The look on his face sends me into a fit again. No matter how silly the reason, it’s liberating to laugh a little.
Eric hands me the piece of paper. I gesture, still with a smile on my lips. “You’ll have to turn around.”
He puts his hands on his hips and leans against the wall. “Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
I freeze and stare at him, the remains of my smile vanishing in an instant. My heart speeds up. He can’t be serious!
He laughs. “That face was worth everything!”
“It’s not funny! I need you to turn around, Eric.”
He rolls his eyes, but then he turns and faces the opposite wall. I pull down my torn stockings, my panties, and lift my skirt and the jacket with one hand as I hold the paper under me with the other. My legs barely obey me when I crouch, and I tremble from the pain in my abused limbs. The ache in my lower stomach increases as I try to relax. Nothing happens. I’m too damn aware of his presence, too awkward, too afraid that he’ll turn and see me naked.
“Don’t turn,” I blurt out and glance over my shoulder.
His back is still to me. “I promise, Anna, take it easy.”
“I need you to cover your ears too.”
I can almost envision the smug look on his face, but he kindly raises his arms and covers his ears.
And, finally, it works.
Chapter 15
Anna
After, it’s my turn to give him his privacy.
I turn my back to him and wiggle my toes, trying to get some warmth into my limbs. My head pounds and my mouth feels like sandpaper. I’m hungry, and still not. There’s a constant ache in my throat, and every muscle in my body protests when I move.
I shiver and glance over my shoulder, at Eric’s back, at the man who has hurt me and scared me so much. He’s a strikingly beautiful man. It’s impossible not to notice that. His eyes captured my attention right from the first gaze. At Starbucks, the coffee banter, the tentative questions, the quirky philosophical discussion. He appeared so sweet, both confident and shy at the same time. Did he fake it all? I think of his ‘occupation’ and how indifferent he seems about it. I shake my head. Probably, Anna.
Our relationship has changed so much during the night, during our forced closeness. The imprint of his arms around my body has marked me. The safe feeling of being close, with no demands for something in return, is something I could have gotten used to. In other circumstances. But we are the same as we were when we embarked on this journey. He’s still a murderer, even if he has warm hands, a scent that turns my head, and a lap I can sleep on. I’m still his victim. The reminder stabs my heart, making it hurt again. Cold, gray, steel walls surround us, a low ceiling enhancing the claustrophobically tight space. Unyielding surfaces that in their impassiveness might be our doom. Now that he’s finished with his private business, I also study the damn solid doors again. We’re stuck here. Maybe we’ll die together here? The thought doesn’t give me panic attacks anymore. Neither does the narrow space. I’m beyond that.
Eric yawns and leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. His yawn is contagious, and I put a hand over my mouth as I stretch my jaws wide. He looks at me and smiles, the action making his eyes glitter. I lift the corners of my mouth into something I hope resembles a smile.
“Didn’t get enough rest?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Neither did you, I gather.”
There’s an awkward moment when we stare at each other. I remember how he caressed me when I was resting with my head on his lap. His touch was so gentle and his fingers so warm. Then I shrug it off and square my shoulders. Nothing to dwell on.
He sighs. “Worse than the worst motel I’ve ever stayed at, and that’s saying a lot. Not even soiled sheets at this one. And no breakfast. I could seriously do with some scrambled eggs and ham.”
I give out a short laugh. “And coffee.” My stomach spasms at the thought of food.
“You aren’t allowed to use the word coffee, heathen,” Eric says.
I laugh. “Goddamn, I’d even drink your tar-like stuff.”
His smile fades. “If we don’t get out of here, we’ll soon get more rest than we asked for.”
My heart sinks and the smile that still lingered on my lips fades. “Yeah.”
I wonder what it will be like. Will it be painful? Will we start chewing on each other’s limbs? Will we just drift off into sleep? Dehydration kills first, I’ve heard. In three days.
I jerk when he strokes my cheek with the back of his hand.
“Don’t look so sad, Anna Raymond. If we get out, we get out. If not, there are worse ways to go. Trust me on this one.” He lets his arm drop.
I
frown and decide he’s right. There’s nothing to be afraid of. There’s nothing to fight. If our time is up, we can’t do anything about it. I can mourn my life if I want. I can dwell on the kids I’ll never have, the love I’ll never experience. Or I can choose not to.
I’ve lived in my own prison for the last year. I’ve locked myself in so perfectly, that I’d never have gotten a husband, or kids, or any kind of happiness at all anyway. What is there to be afraid of? I’ve lived more these last few hours than I have since the rape. Funny that it would take an involuntary imprisonment in an elevator to find that out. And that the person making me realize it would be a professional murderer. Funny. Or sad. Because it’s too late for everything.
I fire off a bleak smile and close my eyes. “Thank you.”
I hear him come closer. “For what?”
I swallow and open my eyes. He stands before me, his eyes intent on mine, so very close, towering over me. Something flares in my chest at having him so near again. I want something I’m afraid to admit even to myself.
“For giving me some of your strength.” My voice has become raw, the lack of moisture in my throat making it harsher.
Eric’s gaze doesn’t falter, and neither does mine as he leans closer. “I can’t give you something you didn’t already possess yourself,” he whispers.
My heart pounds hard as I tilt my head when he comes even closer, his green eyes now a blur, taking up my entire world. A shiver runs down my spine and I close my eyes as I feel his breath on my lips.
Eric
She looks a mess, and still she’s so fucking beautiful with her heart-shaped face, full lips, a bit chapped and strawberry-blonde hair. I’m pulled to her like a bee to honey. The air between us is charged, thick, and my heart pounds heavy in my chest.
I raise an arm and caress along her cheek. “Can I kiss you, Anna?”
Her eyelids flutter and she sucks in her lower lip, chewing on it. She oozes of distress, but she doesn’t say no. I’d respect a no and back off, but fuck me, if she doesn’t object—then those lips are mine.
Her eyes dart to mine. “My breath is terrible.”
I laugh and move in. “So is mine.”
“I’m a terrible kisser.”
“No, you’re not.” I’m so close I feel her quick, shallow breaths fan my lips.
“You don’t know that.”
I let my lips brush against hers. “I’ll know in a second.”
She gasps and tilts her head. I press my lips against hers and a bolt of want shoots straight through me. Her chest heaves. She responds, but she trembles. I break the kiss and pull her into an embrace instead, resting my chin on her head.
“Are you afraid of me?”
She shakes her head. “Or maybe. I don’t know. I’m confused.”
“It’s okay. I doubt you can match my confusion.”
My growing erection pushes against her belly and a ripple runs through her as it dawns on her.
“Shhh.” I move her a little to the side, still holding her. “It has a will of its own. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not,” she whispers. “I trust you.”
Right then and there, she dooms herself. I need her in my life. I don’t know how I’m gonna achieve that, but I’m nothing if not persistent.
If we ever get out, that is.
“Fuck!”
We both freeze at the same time. The sound is so distant, but if we can hear him, then he will fucking hear us.
Both Anna and I throw ourselves at the doors, hammering at them with our fists.
“Help! Hello!” she screams. “We’re stuck in the elevator!”
“Can you hear us?” I yell.
“What the fuck?”
Anna keeps hammering and screaming. I stop for a moment. The voice is closer, and I recognize it. It’s good news, because it’s fucking Christian Russo who’s found us, and it’s really bad news for my little co-captive, because letting her live is not going to fly with him. I swallow hard as I look at Anna, and at the hope that shines in her eyes.
“He’s heard us. It’ll be all right.”
“Dude!” I shout. “Can you get us out of here?”
It’s silent. “Eric?”
“Yeah.” My eyes dart to Anna and I see as it dawns on her. Her mouth falls open and she shakes her head, her eyes widening as she backs up until she hits the far wall.
I put a hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be all right,” I mouth before I turn back to the doors. “Chris! Get us the fuck out of here.”
“Us, Eric. Really?”
“Get your priorities right, dude,” I snarl, glancing at a terrified Anna again. For some reason I hadn’t pictured this turn of events. I have no idea if I can save her from the murder machine Christian Russo has turned into, and it makes me sick.
“I’m on it. Might take a while. I gotta figure out how to open a fucking elevator.”
“You’re standing in a construction site for fuck’s sake. Find a crowbar, something to use as a lever.”
“I’ll be back.”
“You better be, or I’ll haunt you the rest of your life.”
“I’ll be fucking back.”
It goes silent again.
I turn to Anna who looks like she’s in shock. Tears stream down her face and she shakes her head as our eyes meet.
“It’s your partner.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
Her lower lip trembles and she sinks her teeth into it. “He’s gonna kill me, Eric.”
“No, he’s not.”
“You can’t promise me that.”
She’s right, I can’t, but I don’t tell her that. “He does what I tell him. You’ll be all right.”
“Are you sure?”
A little light of hope shines in her eyes. A light that might be snuffed out in a few minutes. She’s mine. I won’t allow it.
“I’m afraid,” she whimpers.
Sadly, she’s got good reasons. I pull her into my arms. She’s trembling.
“Don’t be,” I whisper.
A clunking noise from outside has us both jumping.
“Back!”
“Yeah, that was pretty obvious.”
“I found some hydraulic shit. And a welding tool. Might make this work. Stand back in there.”
We move to the far wall and a loud hissing sound echoes in our confined space. The doors creak and grind. It gives me hope. Anna’s chest heaves erratically, and when I look down at her, fresh tears are streaming down her cheeks.
“I’d have preferred to die in here,” she whispers. “You said he’s a sadistic psychopath. Can’t it be you, at least? Please?” Her voice breaks on the last word and she buries her head against my chest.
I let my hand rest on her nape and pull her closer. There’s nothing I can say that’ll comfort her.
Suddenly the noise increases, and the doors slide apart, just a sliver, but hope rises in me. I sure as hell didn’t want to die in here.
Christian’s face shows up in the inch-wide gap and he turns off the machine. He glances at Anna and then at me, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Then he starts the engine again and puts the tool between the doors. It hisses and struggles, but the doors give way. We’ve stopped one-third down to the next floor. I hope the cage won’t fall as we climb out and split Anna or me in two.
Once the gap is wide enough, Christian spits out a toothpick and crouches, resting his arms on his thighs, regarding me, then Anna.
“Better get you guys out of there, then.”
I step in between him and Anna, giving him my hand. He pulls me up and pushes me to the side, reaching for Anna. I hear a whimper from her, and step in front of him.
“Back off.”
He rises, a little bit taller than I am, ridiculously broad chested, all intimidating muscle. “You’re not serious.”
“Back the fuck off, now,” I snarl.
He throws out his hands and takes a few steps back. I crouch before the opening and reach out. Anna huddles in
one of the far end corners, crying freely. She looks at me pleadingly as she shakes her head.
“Please, Eric.”
“You can’t stay in there. Come now.”
Her eyes dart between me and up over my shoulder, no doubt at a looming Christian. With a loud sob, she gives me her little hand. I grab her wrist and pull her up.
I push Anna behind me and spin around as I hear a gun cock.
“Eric, what the fuck man, she can’t live.”
“You’re not touching her.”
“I’m not gonna touch her, my bullet will.”
I take a step forward and shove him back, gripping his collar. It’s like moving a block of concrete, he barely budges.
“She. Lives,” I grit out.
Christian shoves me to the side and snatches a wide-eyed Anna to him, putting the gun to her temple. “What the fuck? Does she give good head? What the fuck did you do in there that suddenly makes her so precious?” He wraps an arm around her throat, pulling her closer. “Maybe you wanna share?”
Anna’s eyes bulge and she begins to kick at his legs, half-choked whimpers escaping her throat.
I throw my fist hard in Christian’s face, making him stagger. He’s got his hands occupied, and I manage to get a couple of more hits in before he tosses Anna to the side and pounces on me. We tumble to the hard, concrete floor, and he slams his fist in my face over and over again. I’m not stronger than this monster of a man, and finally he’s got me pinned under him, his forearm pressing against my throat. I slam my hand to the floor, accepting my defeat. He eases a little on the pressure but doesn’t let me up.
“Chris,” I wheeze. “That girl you hurt so bad a year ago—”
His eyes flare dangerously, and his lips form a thin line.
“She’s that girl to me, dude. Let her go.”
He removes his arm, still straddling me. “Salvatore will have your head on a platter.”
“That’s my fucking headache, not yours. Now get the hell off me, unless you plan to fuck me.”
Christian grunts and gets up, then he spins around.
“Where the fuck did she go?”
Russo Saga Collection Page 34