Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Matteo
The elevator empties, and this chick is still in here.
When we get past the fortieth floor, my curiosity bubbles up even more, though I’m certain that she’ll get off on the seventy-third floor. All the marketing people work there and I’m sure she’s headed there.
Damn. She just caught me checking her out. Cool. ‘Cause I caught her checking me out, too.
The elevator suddenly lurches and the lights flicker.
What the fuck?
The woman gasps and rushes to the control panel, frantically pressing the buttons. “Hello? Is anybody there?”
She’s panicked. I get it. This isn’t supposed to happen, but I’m sure it’ll be fine soon enough.
“Hello? Hello?” Her voice is shaky, so not how I thought it would be.
“Great. Top-of-the-line system, billions in tech, and we still can’t keep an elevator moving,” I say, loud enough for her to hear.
She turns around. “Do you work here?”
“Relax. I’m sure they’re looking into it.”
There’s a crackle from the control panel, then silence. She gapes at me wide-eyed and nervous. “Are we—stuck?”
“Hopefully not for too long.”
She lets out a long, hard breath, like she doesn’t like this. Like this is torture. Why some people panic so fast is beyond me, but I take a step back, giving her the space I feel she needs.
“Elevators don’t get stuck. They shouldn’t,” she insists. “Not in this day and age.”
“You’re not scared, are you? It’s a glitch. It’ll pass.” But my confidence vanishes when I see the blood drain from her face. She really is panicked. Now that I think about it, she’s been on edge since the moment I saw her. Like she’s trying too hard. Like she’s off kilter. Like she’s stressed.
“I don’t like confined spaces.”
“Yeah?” I tilt my head and grin, wanting to ease the tension. “It depends on who you’re stuck with, I guess.”
She rolls her eyes. “Are you flirting with me?”
She was checking me out. I should call her out on it but I won’t. Not yet. “Just trying to be friendly, that’s all. It could be worse. You could be stuck in here with someone you hate.”
“I wouldn’t want to be stuck in here with my friends.”
She didn’t say boyfriend.
I really shouldn’t do that, but my mind just went there. Trying to read between the lines to figure out her status.
“It’s probably just a safety pause,” I offer, half to calm her, half to convince myself. “System resets happen when the power switches. They’ll reboot in a minute.”
She peers up at me. “I expected more from a Knight Enterprises building. It’s meant to be a shrine to modern engineering.”
“It can still glitch. The Knights aren’t invincible.”
“You work here?”
“You could say that.”
“Then why don’t you call building maintenance?” She steps away from the control panel.
I lift a brow. “I’d be lucky to get one bar this deep in the shaft.”
Just then a voice comes through the intercom.
“This is the control room. Sorry for the inconvenience. We’re working on it and we urge you to please stay calm.”
I know recognize the voice. I lean toward the speaker grill. “How long is this outage going to last?”
“We estimate no more than thirty minutes, sir. We’re working quickly. How many of you are in there?”
“Just the two of us.”
“Apologies. Please remain calm. We’ll get this fixed as quickly as we can.”
I move back, shoving my hands into my back pockets. “See. The guy said to stay calm. Excellent advice. I suggest you take it.”
She stares back at me speechless.
I try to reassure her again. “We won’t be stuck for long, I promise.”
“I just don’t like tight spaces.”
“I hear you. Might as well get acquainted, seeing that we’re going to be stuck in here a while.”
“Thirty minutes,” she groans. “I’m going to be so late.”
“You have an interview?” She’s an intern. Knew it. It explains her nervousness. That and her phobia. She doesn’t answer but sinks back against the wall, looking even more uneasy.
“You were checking me out,” I say, trying to move her attention elsewhere. It’s starting to get stifling in here. The air suddenly feels thick and heavy.
“Oh, please. I was just making sure your tattoos weren’t gang-related.”
She’s funny. I’ll give her that.
I swipe a hand through my hair and note the way her gaze fixes on my arms. “What would you know about gang-related tattoos? And these are not, by the way.”
She quickly looks away, down at the floor.
She likes me. Knew it.
“Twenty to thirty minutes,” she echoes, pointedly ignoring my question. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
She’s trying to act brave, but I can tell that it’s quietly freaking her out.
“Relax. The elevator’s taking a coffee break.”
“Very funny. Don’t change to being a comedian any time soon.”
“Excellent advice. I’ll take it.”
She lets out another shaky breath. The floor indicator is stuck on seventy-two. I peer through the narrow slit between the doors and see the concrete lip of the next floor above. We’re stuck between floors, and so high up. I can’t blame her for being on edge.
I try to reassure her. “It happens sometimes when the system switches power grids. Tech upgrades, software resets … that kinda thing.” Like most modern buildings, this one runs on a backup power grid and I know we’ll be up and running in no time.
She presses her palm to the wall, like she’s trying to steady herself. “Great, but also not great, especially when I’m supposed to be someplace else right now.”
Anxiety flickers in her eyes, the pupils large, swallowing up the hazel color. “Isn’t everyone meant to be somewhere at any time?”
She seems to consider this. “I need to be on time, and I’m not going to make it.”
“I’m sure they’ll be understanding, whoever you’re meeting with.”
“Do you think they’re doing some sort of tech upgrade?”
“Could be. This place runs on smart tech, but sometimes it just gets too smart for its own good.” I offer another smile.
This isn’t me. I don’t smile, often. I’m not patient, and when it comes to strangers, I’m not nice.
Nor do I give a fuck, especially about someone I barely know, but she looks so scared and sad, and it brings out my caring side.
It brings out the protector in me. It’s not usually there, but a woman in distress will do it.
Always.
Growing up and seeing Mama like that always made want to wipe away her sadness and do whatever it took to make her happy.
We all have that; me, Rio and Enzo. I’m not sure what the other Knights feel.
Their story is so much worse. It makes me wonder sometimes what the fuck we’re all doing still being here. With him.
“You’re trying to make me laugh.” Her face softens, like she appreciates the effort.
“You look uncomfortable. It’s not so bad and like I said, you could be stuck in here with someone you really dislike.”
This makes her laugh.
“What is it? Agoraphobia, claustrophobia, acrophobia or basophobia?” I’m curious to find out more.
“Impressive. You know your phobias. Which one do you have?” she shoots back.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I have a fear of confined spaces.”
“Claustrophobia?”
“I don’t like being cornered.”
“Who cornered you?”
Her brow creases, and she shifts uneasily, her nervous gaze settling over me.
Whoa. I think I’ve hit a tripwire of truth.
“Who?” The word grates out of me and my gut hardens.
But then she blinks a few times, shutting the door in my face, and in that moment I know I’ve hit a nerve.
She doesn’t want to there, and that leaves me more intrigued than ever.
“What’s your phobia?” she asks.
I shrug. “I don’t have a fear. Of anything.”
“Everyone has a fear about something.”
“Not me,” I counter, proudly. I’ve dealt with too much trauma in my childhood years to ever fear anything now. I look up. We just left the seventy-second floor and now we’re stuck between that and the seventy-third floor.
Too bad. She was almost there.
Like most things in life, poor timing can fuck so much up.
If she’d been a few seconds earlier, if she hadn’t dropped whatever it was she was picking up, she’d have been there by now.
Instead, she’s stuck in an elevator with me. Feeling cornered.
* * *
LIZ
Panic starts to climb up my throat, all sharp and twisty edges. My hands turn clammy, and my pulse races.
I undo a button on my blouse, needing to cool down.
I can’t believe I’m stuck.
Of all the things to happen to me today, this is the last thing I need. This morning couldn’t have turned out any worse. The maintenance guy is trying to take my mind off the situation, and while I’m grateful for the distraction, it’s too raw. The memory of that room is as sharp as ever.
“Can you call one of your friends and see where they’re at?” We’ve been stuck here for what feels like forever, but it’s probably only been about ten minutes. But we’ve not had an update from whoever is fixing this.
The guy looks at me, puzzled. “My friends?”
“In maintenance. Isn’t that where you work? I don’t mean to be judgy but—”
“You can’t help yourself.” He chuckles softly. He seems so different to how I thought he’d be; I expected broodiness and him being guarded, but he seems the complete opposite.
“You seem to know more about elevator tech than the average person,” I counter.
He shrugs. “We have a good team here and you already know that someone’s on it.”
I take in another deep breath.
“Don’t be scared. Nothing’s going to happen to us.”
He can see right through me.
“I’m fine.” But I’m not. My neck still feels clammy and my stomach is churning.
We’re suspended so high up, and my heart sinks even more.
I breathe in slowly. In for five seconds, out for five.
The panic started as soon as the elevator jerked to a stop.
In that moment it felt like a vise was gripping my chest.
Time ticks by at a snail’s pace and it’s such excruciating torture. It’s getting to be too much. I’m having another déjà vu moment because it’s the same metal walls. The same humming lights. And no way out.
Just like last time.
I’m back there. In that cold night in a room I thought I’d left behind. The interrogation. The endless questions, each one designed to make me feel like a criminal.
Maybe I was, back then, but I believed in what I did. I thought I was doing it for the good of people.
I take my jacket off, needing to cool down.
Needing to regulate my breathing, my control, my focus.
I also don’t want to be a sweaty mess when I show up for my presentation.
Forcing in another breath I tell myself that this is not that time.
Today it’s something different. I’m rebuilding myself.
I’m being ethical. I’m not that girl anymore.
I have a chance to make good.
We’re both facing one another. Both leaning on the wall. I’ve dropped my bag and my jacket on to the floor, and my hands are pressed together tightly. He’s folded his arms, showing off more tattoos. I bet he’s inked all over.
“You checking me out again?” he teases, offering a smile that unsettles me. It’s the stress of the situation and he’s only trying to being nice, I tell myself.
But I huff out a groan “You wish.”
“I’m being serious. You were looking at my arms.”
He caught me red-handed and I can’t deny it. “I was … I was wondering where in maintenance you work.”
“Nowhere important. I’m just the janitor.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” He frowns. “Being judgy again?”
“No. No. I just had you down for working in … I don’t know.”
He’s put me in a bind. Eyes, brown or dull green, I can’t work out which, stare at me in consternation.
He must think I’m nasty. A real judgemental piece of work.
“I thought you worked in tech or something. I’m not judging you, I promise.
” I’m supposed to be thinking about my presentation, and the awesome opportunity I had.
Have, Liz, not had. They can’t turn me away for being late when it was a fault in their elevator.
The guy’s expression relaxes, and he stares at me for a moment before casually running a hand through his hair. It’s long and tousled, curling slightly at the ends near his neck and it falls perfectly over his forehead.
He has the type of hair and style that some would call messy.
I’d call it hot.