Page 34 of Kiss Across the Universe
Alannah screamed again.
“What is that sound, sir? Is everything alright? Do you need assistance?”
The man spun fast on one heel. The back of his hand, the one holding the box, slammed against Alannah’s temple. She sagged, as sparks flittered in her mind and dark grey fogged her sight.
“It’s just the television,” he called out.
“I can’t slide the bill under the door, sir. There is no room.” The woman sounded amused. “New carpet,” she added.
“Leave it at reception. I’ll pick it up there.”
Silence.
Then, “Sir, you failed to pay the deposit yesterday. The manager has asked that you pay now. I am happy to escort you to reception and introduce you to the shift manager, who can help you with this.”
The man swore again. “One moment!” he called. He dropped the box and the dripping gauze into the suitcase, then scooped up the black box and the instruments and dumped them in, too.
He came around behind Alannah. She would have cringed, but her head was throbbing and it was hard to breathe. She didn’t have the strength to sit up straight.
He gripped the back of the chair and dragged her over to the other side of the bed, then alongside it, stopping close to the headboard. She realized dimly that the position put her out of sight of the doorway.
Then the man smoothed down his long locks and stepped around the closet and into the narrow, short hallway to the door, disappearing from Alannah’s view.
Alannah heard the door unlock and gripped the chair, her knuckles turning white. Now was the time to do something smart to get herself out of this, but her mind was buzzing and fizzing. She could barely pull coherent thoughts together. She couldn’t even sit up properly.
She heard a grunt. Then the man staggered backwards, bowed in the middle.
Kit McDonald surged into the room, his hands out. He threw himself at the man, ramming him in the stomach with his shoulder.
Alannah held her breath, riding out her surprise and…yes, her raging, victorious delight that someone was here. Someone knew of her predicament. Someone could help her, after all, when she had thought herself completely alone.
The man fell backwards. But then he seemed to spring up again with impossible dexterity, almost as though the back of his shoulderspushedhim back up from the floor. Alannah gasped against the tape over her mouth. It simply wasn’t possible for someone to spring back up like that.
Even Kit seemed to be surprised by the man’s lightning fast recovery. But not for long. His jaw flexed, then his face grew implacable. He surged forward again, his hands flicking out, over and over, but never connecting. Alannah realized that Kit wasn’t trying to hit the man, but to get a grip on him.
What he would do to the man once he did, she had no idea. But the man seemed almost prescient. He kept bending to one side, fading away, shifting on his feet in little minute movements that nevertheless put him out of Kit’s reach.
It could only have been thirty seconds, but it felt like long, long minutes to Alannah as she watched the two confront each other. She had always known of Kit’s military past, but now the knowledge popped back into her mind in neon.
Kit was staying by the doorway. Blocking it. He was keeping the man trapped in the room. If the door was like other hotel room doors, it would slowly swing shut and lock itself, but it could be easily wrenched open from this side.
The man faced Kit, keeping him in sight. Which put his back to Alannah.
Had he forgotten she was there? She was tucked up beside the head of the bed, a good six feet away from the open space at the foot of it where the two men were confronting each other.
But that could be changed.
Alannah bent forward, which made her head throb like a bass drum, and straightened her thighs just enough to put her into the uber awkward tortoise position, the chair on her back. She waddled forward, a few inches at a time, until she was at the end of the bed.
Then she paused, breathing hard. How could she capitalize on the man’s inattention?
The two men were watching each other to the exclusion of all else, both breathing hard. Had Kit even noticed her move? He was facing her, but his gaze did not shift away from the man.
She wouldn’t be able to pick thebestthing to do. She didn’t know enough about unarmed combat, even though she had been trained by two of the greatest unarmed combatants in the world. She didn’t know enough about Kit’s abilities and his style of fighting to guess what would serve him best.
But the longer she stood in this cramped position, the narrower her window of opportunity to do anything would become.
So dosomething. Anything at all.If Kit was any good, he’d capitalize on whatever change she added to the situation.
