Page 10 of Revenge of the Forgotten

“No wonder they’ve kept you away from us for so long. A striking young man like yourself wouldn’t last a night around a bunch of hormonal teens.” Vega heard her voice swirl above her head, so melodic and carefree.

“I’m sure I could hold my own.” Her voice was met with one so unlike hers: deep and mysterious.

“Is that a challenge, Dimico?” Vega asked with a playfulness to her tone.

“Please, call me Bridger. And it could be, if you’d like.”

Her laugh echoed off the walls of the grand home, winter decor hanging from chandeliers and taking up space on the mantles. She sounded so happy.

Vega couldn’t take her eyes off him. His hair was the darkest color of obsidian she’d ever seen, nearly matching the color of his eyes. He ran a hand through it when he noticed Vega’s eyes dragging down his body, a smile fit for a god lighting up his naturally sun-kissed skin. He towered over her by a good six inches in her heels, his shoulders were broad, and his all-black suit with small gold accents hugged his toned physique—his suit tailored to fit perfectly.

“I’m not so easily won over,” she admitted with a wink.

“You’re not the only one who loves a good challenge, Kitten.”

The nickname made her cheeks burn hot. “Kitten?” she asked.

“Black nails, black dress, a spitfire attitude. I’d say this kitty has claws, regardless of how badly you’re trying to keep them hidden.” He licked his lips as his eyes trailed down the length of her body.

A shiver traveled up her spine when his eyes made it back to hers, jarring her out of the vision she never wanted to end. Vega’s eyes shot open as she came to on her hands and knees in a puddle of wine.

Frightened, she popped up, only to end up on her ass from the rush in her head from standing too fast.

Her breathing was ragged, chest heaving from the rush of adrenaline. “What is happening to me?” She’d seen his face in dreams before—the dreams that haunted her years ago. But now he finally has a name, just like Arlet and Marlena. Once the vertigo subsided, Vega pushed herself up. She thumbed the Emergency Call button once more and let out a defeated sigh when nothing happened again.

“Hello? Can anyone hear me?” Vega wiped at her face, tears free falling down her pink cheeks. She knocked on the door again. “Help! I’m stuck in the elevator!” It wasn’t that late. Someone was bound to hear her pleas for help. Morris would make it up the stairs at some point, right?

“My phone. Shit, where’s my phone?” Vega lunged for her bag and rummaged through its wet contents until her hand felt the slim device at the bottom. Everything inside was soaked, including her phone, but the screen lit up. Her fingers tapped against the sticky glass.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” the voice on the other end asked as Vega pressed the phone to her ear.

“Hi, I’m stuck in my building’s elevator.” Vega sniffled, backing up against the cold metal wall and sliding to the floor.

“Ma’am, you need to press the Emergency button. It’ll alert the elevator service company.” The woman’s tone sagged in annoyance.

“Yeah, um, I’ve already tried that. It’s not working. Can you please send someone out before I have another panic attack?” And see shit that isn’t real. Her patience was wearing thin—not just with the woman on the phone, but with life in general.

“Is there a fire? Are you hurt?”

“No, there’s no fire, and I’m not hurt,” Vega responded. Yet.

This was the third time she’d blacked out, visions materializing in her head. Vega was starting to believe this was the start of a nervous breakdown, maybe an undiagnosed mental health issue.

“What’s the address of your building?” Fingers tapping on a keyboard echoed through the phone.

Vega gave the monotone woman her address, pulling her legs into her chest to make herself as small as she could. She was still in her work uniform, smelling of fried foods and grease. The little blue dress with the white apron built in did nothing to keep her warm, and neither did the wet raincoat wrapped around her.

“I’ve contacted your local fire department. They will get to you as soon as they can.”

She took her bottom lip between her teeth. “How long do you think it’ll take?” She rested her chin on her knees.

“I’m not sure, ma’am. If you smell smoke or this turns into a dire situation, please call us back, and we’ll try to get someone out faster.” Which translated to, If this turns into a real emergency…

“Okay, thanks.” Vega didn’t wait for her to say anything else before ending the call. Tears poured down her cheeks, and Vega threw the phone across the small box, unconcerned if it shattered into a million pieces.

Maybe I am cursed. No one's luck is this bad.

Since she was stuck in here for the foreseeable future, Vega crawled across the small space on her knees and ripped the intact bottle of wine out of her soggy bag. She twisted the cap off the cheap bottle and chugged until she felt like she needed to come up for air.

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