Page 126 of Kept in the Dark
“You know how people like to say you’re playing with fire? Well, you’re not playing with fire; you’re playing with fucking napalm. That shit’s gonna burn downeverything,” Felix says, expression a bit unhinged, like he kind of wants to watch it happen. “Smartest thing you can do now is leave her here and run for your sorry little life. He’ll still catch you, but maybe he’ll kill you quick.”
“You’re telling me you’re running away? You’re afraid of some—” Kyle begins, his voice pitching higher in outrage and taunt.
Felix cuts through it with a chuckle. “Yup. Yeah. I am.”
“Pussy,” Kyle shakes his head and returns the laugh, though his is far more bitter. “Whatever, man, don’t come crying to me later. Deal’s off. I don’t owe you a dime.”
As he presses the button in the elevator, Felix moves half behind the wall, ushering Eleanor over to the side and blocking her from my sight. Is he… protecting her?
“There are those finely tuned instincts that are gonna get you so far,” Felix taunts. “Piece of advice. Maybe take a couple seconds and ask yourselfwhyI would walk away from a payout this big.” He taps his temple twice. “Think about it.”
The doors close.
Kyle turns back to me, jaw slack, eyes burning with blame and a whole mess of things I don’t even want to try to name. He stares for a few seconds, shakes his head, and strides past me to the kitchen island. Once there, he leans down over the quartz and makes a heavy, thick snorting noise.
Did he just do a line of cocaine? I slip into my Nurse Nicole skin and make my observations as discreetly as I can from here. Judging from how unsteady he is on his feet, that probably wasn’t his first hit. He’s having trouble with visual focus, his fine motor skills appear to be compromised, he’s unhinged, and his emotional state while he spoke with Felix seemed to shift quickly and unpredictably.
He falls back, making a groaning noise of relief, and goes slack in the low-backed chair.
Heart racing so fast I’m sick to my stomach with it, I grapple for something—anything—that might be helpful while I have a few seconds to think.
I know how to handle several different types of crises; I just have to try to remember my training—there had to have been one about how to handle an unstable, dangerous person with a gun. Active shooter trainings advise running and hiding, but I know I took a seminar about dealing with patients with suspected psychosis. And, sure, calling the doctor or security isn’t an option here, but there has to be somethingburied in my brain that I’ve learned about calming people down when they’re having a mental break.
That could be what’s happening here, or he could just be really high. The same tactics wouldn’t work on someone who was really high.
Okay, Nicole. Think.
If I play my cards right, I might be able to stall long enough to… I don’t know. I don’t know!
It feels reckless not to make a plan of my own and just hope for Dimitri to come for me, but I’msoout of my depth. How is he going to get up here without being noticed? Will he come in time?
The only thing I’m really sure of is that antagonizing Kyle is a bad idea. He might just shoot me for fun or by accident because he’s worked up. I have to be careful and use what I know about him to my advantage.
What do I know about him?
He’s entitled. He’s self-important. He thinks he’s smarter than he is. He thinks he’s more charming than he is. He’s a shitty dancer… Okay, that’s not immediately relevant… But there’s a theme here—he’s obviously got a huge ego.
So, though I want to rage at him, to taunt him, to scream obscenities and warn him that my big, scary boyfriend is going to come rescue me, I can’t. I have to pretend to be docile so he feels like he’s in control.
I might be able to confuse him or create some paranoia. I might be able to fool him. He obviously wants the USB and the money, though he hasn’t even asked about it yet. Felix knew I knew about it anyway. Something tells me it won’t go well for me if he realizes I don’t have it—or worse, that the money was transferred away and I have no idea where it is.
Every second that ticks by digs the pit in my stomach a little deeper. At least Eleanor got out. I hope she manages to fight off Felix, or holds out for long enough that Mac comes to get her…
Kyle groans again and shuffles to his feet, leaving the gun on the counter.
“What the fuck was Felix’s problem?” he asks, and I’m not totally sure if it’s directed at me. I stay silent in case it’s not.
He moves towards the windows, then remembers his gun is still on the counter. When he picks it up and tucks it into his waistband, my stomach sinks. Fuck. I’d really been hoping he would forget about it. As if he can’t decide where he wants to keep it, he slides the weapon back out of his pants, fingers the trigger, and taps it against the outside of his leg. Then, he turns, pointing the barrel right at me.
I flinch, nearly losing control of my bladder. Holy fuck, it is terrifying being on the wrong end of a gun. Staring down the barrel is bad enough—it steals rational thoughts—but feeling like the person holding it is unpredictable makes it so much worse.
My time for planning has just run out.
“Who’s the fucker with the scar and why is Felix pissing himself about him?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper the lie, hoping he’ll accept it because he wants to. “I don’t know what he was talking about.”
He makes a noise of satisfaction, dropping his arm.
