Chapter 5
Archer
As soon as the lights go out, there’s a high-pitched scream that nearly pierces my eardrums. Small hands clutch my jacket, and someone burrows their face against my chest. I’m assuming it’s the girl who just ambushed our elevator ride.
A moment later, the emergency lights come on, illuminating the confined space in a warm, red glow. The buttons of the elevator are all dark.
“What’s going on?” the girl asks with a shake in her voice. “We’ve stopped. Why aren’t the doors opening?”
“Don’t panic,” I reply, placing an arm around her when she doesn’t let go of my jacket. “It’s just a power outage.”
Holding her with one arm, I punch the emergency button with my thumb. A bell rings, but that’s about it. Many of these old elevators aren’t equipped with emergency phones and generators in cases like these.
“Are we just stuck in here until the power comes back on?” she asks, reluctantly releasing my clothes.
“Afraid so,” I answer.
“We’re not going to…drop, are we?”
“If we haven’t already, I assume we’re not going to now.”
She huffs. “That’s reassuring.”
“Relax. It’s only, like, two floors anyway.” Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out my phone. It has one bar of service, and I’m not quite sure who I’d call for help anyway. The building staff knows we’re in here.
Regardless, the girl bangs loudly on the doors. “Hey!” she shouts before trying to pry them open. Of course, they don’t budge. “We’re stuck in here!”
“Not sure that’s going to do any good,” I mutter. “If the power is out in the whole building, there’s nothing the staff here can do for us. They’ll have to call out an elevator technician, and who knows how long that could take?”
As I search up their number in my directory anyway, I hear a strange wheezing sound, scratchy and fast-paced. I scan the small space, thinking maybe there’s an animal clawing at the wall.
“Oh God, are you okay?” the girl asks with a fear-laced voice.
Glancing up, I see the other man in the elevator is pressed against the corner. His lips are parted, and his eyes are shut. His chest is heaving unnaturally, and even in the dim red light, I can make out his pale complexion and sweat beading along his brow.
“Hey,” I say, pocketing my phone and stepping up to him. “Breathe, man. It’s okay.”
There’s a wheeze in his inhales that makes me very, very uncomfortable.
“He’s having a panic attack,” she shrieks, and we crowd around him before I think better of it.
“Back up,” I say, pulling her away with me. “Hey, man…” I call.
“His name is Julian.”
I glance down at her and then back up at him. “Julian, open your eyes,” I say. “Look at me.”
“I…can’t…” he stammers breathlessly. “Open the doors,” he pleads with hysteria. “Open them. Open them. Open—”
“We can’t open them.” I keep my voice calm. “But the power is going to come back on any second. Just take a deep breath.”
“Let me try,” the woman says as she shucks off her jacket. Her soft hands touch his cheeks, and she angles his face down toward hers. I watch in amazement as she presses her forehead to his. “Breathe with me, Julian. Nice and slow.”
“I can’t,” he says on a gasp, growing erratic and angry.
I consider banging on the door or calling for help, but I know that’s only going to make his attack worse. Instead, I take her lead and pull off my coat and scarf.
“Let’s all take a deep breath together,” I say.
“Inhale for five seconds,” she says and starts counting.
“One, two, three, four, five,” we say together.
“Now, exhale for five seconds,” she says.
“I–I can’t,” he stutters. “Fuck. Get me out of here.”
“Calm down, Julian,” I say, noticing the terror in his voice and on his face.
For reasons I don’t understand, I reach out and wrap my fingers around his hand.
Squeezing tightly, I try to ground him, but I know that in his mind, the walls of this tiny box are all closing in.
He might be a prick, but right now, I feel bad for him.
And I certainly don’t need to be stuck in an elevator with a dead guy.
The girl is still holding her forehead to his, and I’m clutching his hand, and we do the counting for a while longer until Julian stops cussing and starts to look more angry than terrified.
“Why don’t we sit down?” I say lowly, and the girl nods.
Still holding Julian, she tries to ease him to the floor, but he jerks away from her hands. In a fit of frustration, he rips off his jacket, and I worry for a moment that he’s about to lose it. We don’t have enough space for him to start really freaking out.
When he opens his eyes, his gaze collides with mine.
I put my hands out toward him like I’m approaching a wild animal.
I let him watch me as I lower to the floor, my back against the mirrored wall of the elevator.
My legs are stretched out in front of me, and the girl, whose name I still don’t fucking know, sits between us.
“We can’t be stuck in this fucking elevator,” he says, looking exhausted.
“We’re not,” she says. “We’re just waiting for the power to come back on.”
“Yeah,” I add, glancing at my watch. “I’d say in less than five minutes.”
I can tell by the stagger in his limbs that he’s bordering on exhaustion. He might pass out at any moment if he doesn’t sit down and regulate his breathing.
“How long does it take to suffocate?” he asks, glancing around the small box.
“We won’t,” I reply with confidence. “Those are air vents. We’re perfectly safe.”
He scoffs at that.
“Sit down, Julian,” the girl commands him. “Sit down and wait with us.”
Eventually he surrenders and sort of kneels-slash-falls to the floor. He still can’t drag in a full lung’s worth of air, but he’s doing better than he was a few minutes ago.
As soon as his ass hits the floor, he slumps against the wall. Last night, he was so perfectly put together with meticulously styled hair and crisp, clean clothes. He’s probably one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever laid eyes on.
But right now, he’s a mess. His hair is wavy and unkempt from the rain. His skin is clammy and pale, and dark circles frame his vibrant eyes. His lips are dry, and his posture is like melted wax.
Even still, he’s pretty fucking beautiful.
I don’t normally go for the pretty guys, but I could have some fun roughing him up a bit. Now the girl at his side, though…she’s definitely my type.
With wild black waves, she has this effortless cool-girl thing going on that is very fucking sexy. She has a black skirt that comes to her knees and a pair of ass-kicker ankle boots, and I immediately imagine what they’d feel like digging into my back.
“What’s your name, by the way?” I ask.
She glances at me and rakes her gaze over my face and body as if she’s quickly sizing me up to determine if I’m a threat or not.
“Freya,” she replies. “What’s yours?”
“Archer.”
She looks at something just above my eye. “What happened to your face?”
I touch my brow where a white bandage is holding the broken skin together. “Um…” I start, but she quickly shakes her head, noticing my apprehension.
“You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
I press my lips together as she turns her attention back to Julian.
“How are you feeling?” she asks him.
His eyes are still closed, and he looks like he’s dissolving into a puddle.
“He doesn’t look so good,” I say, worried that this guy might literally croak here in this elevator, and we’ll just be stuck with his corpse until the power comes back on.
“Do you need to eat something?” she asks, touching his face.
With what little energy he has left, he nods.
Then Freya jumps into action, unzipping the large boxlike tote she’d hoisted onto this elevator with her. The aroma of cheese suddenly fills the space, and my mouth waters.
I lean forward, trying to get a peek of what she’s got. She pulls out a dish that looks like potatoes, and with a fork, she brings a bite to his mouth.
“I thought you hated him,” I say, leaning against the opposite wall.
She laughs as Julian takes a bite, peeping open one eye to stare at her as if he too is curious. “I don’t hate him. Besides, even if I did, I don’t want to see him suffer.”
“Hmm,” I reply, watching her as she spoon-feeds this rich pompous asshole back to life. Hot and bighearted. I’m intrigued.
She turns toward me, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk on her face that I’d like to kiss right off. “Help yourself. There’s plenty in there.”
Consider me curious. I reach into the bag and lift out another glass dish with a snap-on lid. Pulling it open, I stare down at small hand pies that smell spicy and delicious. Picking one up, I take a bite and immediately moan with delight.
“Holy shit, where did you get these?”
“I made them,” she replies with a laugh.
“Fuck me,” I groan around another bite.
When I open my eyes, I see that Julian has started to regain some strength. He takes the dish and fork from Freya and continues to feed himself. When he finally speaks, his voice is raspy, and he still has a slight wheeze.
“It is…delicious,” he mumbles quietly.
Freya’s spine straightens as she leans toward him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”
He rolls his eyes. “Too bad. I’m not saying it again.”
She shakes her head at him as she leans against the wall, stretching out her legs so they meet ours in the middle of the elevator. Then she reaches for one of the pies in the dish on my lap.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “I heard him say it.”
“Thanks.”
When her eyes meet mine, I swear I get lost in them. There is something sharp and sexy about her expression that draws me in.
“Does this mean I can keep my job?” she asks Julian.
He’s wearing a flat, unenthused expression as he stares at her through hooded eyes. His nonresponse makes me laugh.
“So how do you two know each other?” I ask.
Freya takes another bite. “His sister is my best friend. His parents have an anniversary party coming up, and they hired me to cater it, but he tried to take it away from me.”