Page 23 of All The Way Under
“I know we don’t see eye to eye, but think of things from my point of view,” Saylor says while chewing. “What if they let me out and not you?”
Fat chance. I wouldn’t be sleeping to begin with.
“I made a deal. We’ll be able to get out of here during the day. They said you’re such a pain in the ass, and you’ll be here for so long that part of your ransom agreement states you need freedom throughout the day.”
“How did you manage that?” she asks, big blue eyes staring into mine.
I shake my head. “By not screaming,” I say. “And by not killing people.”
The irony in this sentence isn’t lost on me, and I can’t resist flashing a little grin.
She notices and looks away. Saylor wipes at her face with the sleeves of my sweater, and I feel uncomfortable.
“Bullshit. It was my mother, wasn’t it? That’s who gave the terms of the ransom. How did you get involved?”
Stretching with arms against the bars, I ignore how seeing her in my clothes makes me feel. It looks like she’s naked underneath, and it’s been a long time since a thought like this has crossed my mind. The proximity of her doesn’t help, either.
“They wanted to make sure I wasn’t a flight risk. We’re going to have to work,” I say. “Don’t get too excited. We’re not going to be sipping cocktails in a lounge chair.”
Saylor narrows her eyes. “Who said that’s what I want to do? I’d literally lick the ground and roll in a mud puddle if it meant getting out of here for any amount of time. To pee somewhere other than a hole would be enough.”
She finishes eating and pushes the bowl away with her foot.
“When are they letting us out?” She stands, grabbing the bars next to me. “Thanks for the sweater, by the way. I’m going to assume I can keep it.”
The urge to say something scathing bubbles, but I hold my breath and keep it buried. I nearly choke on the next words.
“You’re welcome.” Even though I feel her gaze, I don’t dare turn my face to see it head on. I’m too out of character right now. “They didn’t tell me what time. I think this is where patience comes into play.”
Swallowing down all the vitriol on the tip of my tongue, I back away from the bars and her and sit down, stretching my legs in front of me. I need to work out. That’s what is wrong with me. I have too much pent-up testosterone without an outlet. Women have never been a focus of mine, especially because of how much trouble they always seem to be.
Saylor lifts my sweater over her head, and her shirt underneath rides up, exposing her black lace bra. I look away, but she’s in my peripheral. There’s no escaping her. I take this time to remind myself who she is and how she lives outside of these dirt walls. She ties the sweater around her waist.
“Brody,” she says, spinning to face me.
I look her way now that it’s safe, but I don’t respond to my name.
“Tell me everything you saw out there. I need to be prepared.”
This is safe. This is work. I tell her all I saw, and she listens intently.
“I bet my sat phone is in the stilted house where the food was,” she says, sitting in front of me. “They weren’t hostile. Did you see any women?”
I shake my head. “They do have two other assets. There is another side to this base, or that’s what they said. I’m leery of believing everything all at once until I see things for myself. I offered to help fix a broken bike engine, and they seemed to like that skill.”
“I can fix things too,” Saylor chimes in. “What else?”
She listens like it’s the most interesting bedtime story in the world. When I’ve given all the facts, she looks at me quietly for a beat or two, just looking into my eyes. It makes me uncomfortable, but I allow it, and I’m not sure why.
“You’re different today,” she says. “The vibes are different.” Saylor smiles widely, challenging me to offend hervibes.
I hold the eye contact. She has flecks of lighter blue inside the deep blue. They may be the most unique eyes I’ve ever cared to notice. Nolan and I have blue eyes, but it’s the standard color everyone has.
“I had a good night’s sleep,” I lie. “It’s a new day. Don’t worry, I’m still cranky and mean at heart. The prospect of exploring has issued a temporary halt on sardonic insults.”
She smiles wider, andnowit’s time to look away. I pick a spot outside and stare diligently.
“What can you fix?” I ask.
