Page 42 of Down Knot Out
My plea cuts short as we reach the elevator, and he shoves me inside, his bony frame stronger than it appears. I stumble into the back wall, the metal cold through the fabric of my T-shirt.
Simon steps in, his attention never leaving me as he jabs at the button panel. The doors begin to close, and with them, my chance of escape. I lunge forward, but Simon blocks me with his body, using his height to his advantage.
He misinterprets my fear for concern. “They’ll never find us. I’ve planned for everything.”
The doors seal shut with a soft ding, and my heart plummets as the elevator begins to move. The fluorescent lights of the elevator buzz, and my reflection stares back from the polished metal doors, face tense with fear.
Simon stands too close, his cologne clogging my nostrils until I can barely breathe. When his finger stabs the hold button, the elevator jerks to a stop, and my heart hammers, frantic to escape.
I shrink into the corner. “What are you doing?”
Simon turns to me, the harsh overhead lights casting deep shadows that carve out his cheeks and sink his eyes into darkness. “We need to talk where no one can interrupt us.”
My eyes dart to the emergency call button. Can I reach it before he stops me? The camera in the corner of the ceiling blinks with a red light. That means someone is watching this, right?
“Simon, people will be searching for me. Dominic will call security when he realizes I’m gone.” I back up to the far wall, putting as much distance between us as possible in the confined box.
Simon’s mouth twists halfway between a smirk and a grimace. “By the time they figure out what happened, we’ll be gone. I’ve timed it all out.” He taps his wristwatch, an expensive piece that doesn’tmatch his delivery uniform. “By the time that Alpha reaches the ground floor using the stairs, we’ll already be gone.”
Ice slides down my spine. “Why are you doing this to me?”
Simon’s expression softens, and that unsettles me more than his anger. “You still don’t see it, do you? How they’re all using you?” He steps closer, and the elevator shrinks around me. “Over the years, I’ve watched you bloom and wilt, depending on who surrounds you. But you ignored me.”
Years? I only met Simon a few months ago, at my first book signing.
“I haven’t ignored you, Simon. I appreciate all my fans, especially dedicated ones who come to multiple events.”
His face darkens. “You don’t even remember me.”
I force my features into what I hope is recognition. “Of course, I do. The blue stone bolo tie is from the Midnight Stone in my third book. You always ask such insightful questions.”
His hand slams against the wall beside my head, and I flinch. “Not from the signings! From university.”
I blink in genuine confusion. “University?”
Simon searches my face for deception and findsonly bewilderment. “Western State. We attended at the same time. English Literature program.”
My mind races through faces from my university years, but his doesn’t surface. “I’m sorry, I don’t?—”
“You weren’t supposed to notice me,” he cuts in, the pride behind the words contradicting his earlier anger. “I was good at hiding and watching. As I was told to be.”
A fresh chill sweeps through me. “Told? Who told you to watch me? Was it my father?”
Simon pulls back, his expression flickering between pride and uncertainty. “That doesn’t matter now. What matters is I saw therealyou. Not the person everyone else knew.”
Sweat prickles along my hairline despite the cool air pumping from the vent above. “Simon, I don’t understand. If we went to the same university, why would someone tell you to watch me?”
He straightens his bolo tie, fingers lingering on the blue stone. “Your mother was tricky. Very tricky. But you weren’t like her.”
My mouth goes dry. “My mother? What does she have to do with this?”
“You weren’t what your father expected, either.” Simon continues as if I hadn’t spoken,focusing on something only he can see. “He had such specific expectations of you.”
“Do you mean Augustus?” I ask, hoping to untangle a name from his crazy ramblings. “Augustus Sinclair?”
Simon’s attention snaps back to me. “That’s not important right now. What’s important is that I know the real you. The person no one else sees.”
Before I can react, he clasps my hand between both of his, his palms sweaty. I resist the urge to yank away, sensing that keeping him calm is my best strategy.
