Page 15 of His to Burn
The squeeze was a little tight around her shapely hips, but she pulled long thick legs through the hole and made her way out of the elevator and onto the roof, her grip trembling on the metal edge.
I didn’t help her.
Wanted to see if she’d fall.
Wanted to be the one to catch her.
She made it out, but rather than stop or look relieved, the woman looked around wildly, her eyes searching.
She had the worst poker face I’d ever seen, but even if her every emotion wasn’t written across her face, I still sensed that the confined space was getting to her, and that the knock against the elevator almost sent her spiraling.
And as she climbed out, she was terrified.
If I was a better man, I would have been ashamed of how much I liked it.
Now, though, she looked almost relieved.
The feeling was misplaced.
Because her journey, whatever it was going to be, had just begun.
She looked over my shoulder and then met my eye.
Even in the dark shaft that was only lit by her phone, her gaze was steady. But I saw past that steadiness and saw the fear she tried to hide.
Of me or what was below, I couldn’t tell.
So I waited, wondering what she would do.
“We have to climb down that ladder to get out of here, don’t we?” she whispered.
“We?”
I stared at her, watching as her eyes widened and then saw when she was back incontrol. If she cried, begged for my help, I would have left her.
But she didn’t.
She just kept breathing, kept standing.
And fuck me, that made something savage uncoil in my chest.
“Yes, we. You and I,” she said, trying to sound like she wasn’t afraid.
I let out a humorless laugh. “Affirmative.”
She shook her head, a grudging smile on her lips. “I can see the headlines now:Semi-prominent Atlanta Attorney Found Dead at the Bottom of an Elevator Shaft. Details at Eleven.But given the circumstances, lead the way.”
I huffed and then made my way to the metal stairs welded to the concrete wall.
The woman kept pace as we traversed down the ladder, and after a few minutes, I looked at the wall and saw the crispLthat had been painted in black.
We had arrived.
I hopped off the ladder and after a quick sweep of the elevator shaft, I faced the door to my left. The door in the concrete cutout was about half the size of a regular door, whichmeant I would have to crouch as I went through it.
Not ideal, but I didn’t have a lot of choices.
Despite my resolve to stay detached, I looked back at the woman.
