Page 17 of Kristoff

Brianna

Footsteps echo on the stairs with a purposeful stride. It can only be Kristoff…of no last name.

How is it I’m sleeping with a man, and we know nothing about each other, including our last names? Never in my life could I have expected to do something so reckless and wild. Yet here I am, spending all day in his bed, wearing a shirt with nothing on under it but a pair of cotton panties.

The bedroom door opens. Kristoff steps in, closing it quietly behind him. He leans back, crossing his arms in front of him. Again, I’m struck by how handsome this guy is. A well-put-together package if I ever saw one.

He cocks his head, the hint of a smile on his lips. “A teacher, huh.”

The tidbit of information is enough to make me all fidgety. I pull my knees up under the bedsheet, wrapping my arms around them for a sense of security. I’ve been waiting for him to show up ever since I heard his voice drift through the floor when he was talking about a teacher. There will be questions, and I’ll have to find a way to avoid certain topics. I’ve been on edge, unable to concentrate, even though I’ve read through the magazine he left me more than once now.

“Yes,” I reply, running my hand over the thick braid I pulled over my shoulder. “That would be me.”

I’m not a full-fledged teacher. But I’m certified and more than qualified to teach outside the United States. “I’ve spent the last two years teaching kindergarten.”

His gaze rolls over me, and I fight the urge to drag the sheet tighter against my chest. I suddenly picture every one of my students, in their crisp white shirts, looking up at me from their wooden desks in disapproval.

Does my occupation change anything? I can’t fathom why, but if so, I may have to get going earlier than I expected. Either way, I’m almost out of here.

Why does the thought of leaving twist me up inside? While yes, I’m frightened of what might happen along the road. This is something else. An unexpected yearning for Kristoff, one I could never have planned for.

I hesitate, not sure I can deal with knowing but sure I can’t deal with not knowing. “How did you find out?”

“Delivery guy came in from the compound. He was talking about how a local teacher went missing.” He shrugs. “I put two and two together.”

They were bound to find out. There’s no way anybody would have missed the fact I’m neither at the schoolroom or the cottage. “Are they already looking all the way out here?”

“Not exactly. He found out when he made a delivery up there this morning.” Kristoff pushes away from the door. “It was more of an offhand comment or curiosity. He didn’t come searching for you.”

Still, the fact word already reached one hundred miles out is impressive.

Kristoff kicks his shoes off then settles in next to me.

“There’s no way to get ahead of him without a vehicle,” he says, thoughtfully. “So you may have to wait it out for a couple of days.”

My heart’s beating in my throat. “Wouldn’t my staying make things worse?”

“Not necessarily.” He thinks about it for a moment.

“I don’t understand.”

He takes a deep breath, exhaling, as if he’s resigned himself to the situation. “I might have someone who’s able to help.”

“Okay.” I nod once, feeling like there’s something missing. “Why do I feel like there’s abutcoming?”

He sits back against the headboard. “There’s likely two.”

“Fantastic,” I mutter, more to myself than not.

“One, I don’t know if I can trust my contact since Faust is involved.”

I understand. I’ve learned just how fanatical the Faust organization has become. I suppose I’ve pushed it to the back of my mind. Mostly because I don’t want to think about the consequences of this escape. Especially if things go wrong.

“Out here, you need to work with what you’ve got. And what I’ve got are mostly bandits and smugglers.”

This comes as no surprise. The area is rough. While Faust mans the walls surrounding the town, it’s impossible to avoid the world.

“Which means,” he continues, “their loyalties are going to go to the highest bidder. Or to whatever is in their best interest.”

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