ANNA
About another hour has passed and we’re still stuck inside this room with no set plans on getting out of here. I’m content with that though because that means that I get to spend more time with him. For the time being, it’s as if we can pretend that Mitch isn’t right outside the door.
I take a quick glance at the security monitors just to make sure he’s still there and yeah, he’s still waiting as patiently as he can. Whoever wants me and Zane must be paying this idiot a lot of money. There’s no way I would be doing what he’s doing without getting paid a pretty penny, but then again, I’m also not a sociopath so I’m not an expert on how his pig-headed brain works.
I reach into a bag of chips that sits in the space between us. After we got out of the shower, and as he was getting dressed, I managed to find some Doritos in one of the overhead cabinets. My hand collides with his inside the bag and we both cock our heads to each other at the same exact time. He pulls his hand out of the bag and allows me to grab a handful before he gets his.
He’s shirtless still because he had said it was too hot to wear a shirt. I think it’s just an excuse, but if I had a body like his I’d be as close to naked as possible all the time. Instead, I’m content to be back in the same clothes I’ve been wearing all day. Though they’re dirty and stained, they’re comfortable. And more importantly, if Mitch somehow manages to find a way inside this room, it’ll be nice not having to hurry up and get dressed before trying to flee.
We’re watching some dumb comedy show on the big screen TV. There’s no internet connection so we’re just watching the show that was already in the DVD player. Zane laughs on occasion, but so far, I haven’t found much interest in the show, and certainly nothing to laugh out loud about.
But maybe there’s a reason why I’m not laughing. Maybe it’s because my mind is too lost elsewhere, too lost on replaying the day’s events over and over in my head. Being intimate with Zane was a welcome distraction. For the entire time we were together, I could manage to avoid the world outside this room. And in the shower too, I could still pretend as if my life wasn’t in mortal danger.
For some reason, I just can’t do that anymore. Maybe it’s because it’s too hot or maybe it’s because I’m tired of waiting for the inevitable, tired of waiting for what we all know has to happen. Sooner or later, we’re going to have to leave this room and when we do, we’re going to have to fight for our lives.
I almost want to just get it over with. At least then, one way or another, I’ll know how this is all going to shake out. The agony is in the waiting. The agony is in not knowing. I’m sure a painful death is nothing to write home about, but again, at least I’d know how this plays out.
I shift on the couch and try to get comfortable, but my body is screaming. It’s like it needs to move just like the wheels in my head are turning. I grab the middle of my shirt and shake it slightly, trying to build up a slight breeze underneath my shirt. I’m somewhat successful and it manages to cool me slightly, but not enough.
I finally let out an obnoxious groan and swing my feet off the edge of the couch before rising to my feet. Zane’s eyes twist to me as he reaches for the remote and mutes the TV. Before I know it, he’s rising to his feet to join me at my side.
He caresses me softly and presses his lips against my neck, but I pull away from him with a sigh.
“What’s wrong, Anna?” he questions, scratching at the back of his head. I turn to face him and shrug. There aren’t adequate words to describe how I’m feeling. I’m having the worst day of my life but it hasn’t all been bad. “There’s something on your mind and you are going to drive yourself crazy if you don’t talk about it. You’re going to drive yourself mad if you don’t get it off your chest.”
“I’m just scared,” I say lowly with my head bowed. “I’m confused and I’m angry. I have all these emotions reaching a boiling peak inside me and I don’t know how to process them. I don’t understand which way is up and which way is down. I go from one extreme to another, all in a matter of seconds and it’s dizzying. It’s the like the world is spinning and then it stops, and just as I’m getting used to it, it starts spinning again.”
“Yeah.” He cracks a forced smile. “That sounds all too familiar.”
“Does it?” I question him, staring him intently in the eyes. “Or are you just saying that because you don’t want me to feel so alone?”
He smiles again and takes a careful step towards me. “Does it matter?”
“Yeah. Kind of.”
“Fine then, yes.” He shrugs. “I know that feeling all too well. It’s not uncommon in this line of work.”
“I’ve never felt it before.”
“You’ve never felt confused before?” He furrows a brow and tilts his head. “That sounds a little too good to be true.”
I pass him an evil glare. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know.” He reaches for my hand and this time, I don’t pull away. Instead, I shift into his touch because all things considered, it’s the most comforting thing in this world, especially right now. “Do you want to sit down and talk about it?”
I shrug with one shoulder. “What’s there to talk about?”
“Well,” he ponders out loud with pursed lips, “It’s looking like we got all the time in the world so we can figure it out together.”
I roll my eyes, but I also smile before dropping back down onto the couch. He takes a seat beside me and angles himself so that he’s able to look at me directly while we converse back and forth.
“How do you do this?” I question, looking for an honest answer. “How do you deal with this danger every day and manage to stay sane?”
“Well, you know the answer to that,” he points out simply. “I don’t deal with this danger every day. Most of our cases are run of the mill, nothing like this.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I sigh and push myself deeper against the couch. I opt to stare at the thick steel door ahead. It’s the one thing protecting us right now and it’s the one thing I hate the most right now. I need fresh air. I want to breathe the smoggy California air, and that’s saying something. It’s familiar though, and familiar is comfortable. “Is this the worst thing that’s ever happened to you?” I cock my head to him just in time to catch him glancing away from me.
When I need to stare at something, I stare at the steel door. When he needs to do the same thing, his eyes wonder off and stare at the floor. It’s for the same reasons, I imagine, because some conversations are uncomfortable. It’s easier to stare down an inanimate object than it is a living, talking one.
“Well, is it?” I question again, pressing for an answer to my inquiry.
“Not by a long shot,” he sighs, bats his tongue against his lower lip. “There was this time in the war. We were stationed in Afghanistan and we were out on a routine mission that ended badly.” He purses his lips and shakes his head furiously. Just before he rises to stand, he drags his open palm over his mouth and sighs. “What started out as an ordinary day quickly turned into a nightmare. We lost seven good men that day.” He closes his eyes as he twists to face me, and then he waits for a few beats before he manages to open them. When he does, I swear I can see them glistening.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” I say, feeling guilty for even bringing it up at this point, but I wanted to know that he’s seen worse so that it’d give me hope that I’m going to survive this ordeal. But I know that onus shouldn’t be put on him. After all, it was my idea to tag along with him for the day. If he were out on his own, he’d probably be better equipped to handle this situation because he’d only have to worry about keeping himself safe, and my safety wouldn’t factor into the equation.
I’m a liability. I know that and there’s nothing I can do to change that and I doubt that I will ever be able to repay him for everything he’s done for me today.
“It’s okay,” he says simply and sits back down onto the couch with a loud sigh. “It’s good that we’re talking about this, because I need you to know something.”
“Yeah, what is it?” I swallow nervously, almost afraid of what he’s going to say. “Come on, you can tell me anything.”
“All right.” He nods as a grin hitches across his lips. “I want you to know that I’ve seen much worse than today, and though it’s not every day that I find myself in positions like this, I’ve survived much worse.” He reaches across the short distance between us and drops a hand onto my thigh. His touch alone and by itself is enough to comfort me, forcing a smile to hitch across my own lips. “And you’re going to survive this and you’re going to learn from this. You’re going to be stronger tomorrow than you are today and when you look back at this situation in the future, you’re going to look back at it differently. It’s almost like you’re going to be thankful that this happened to you because of the way in which it’s going to change you.”
“I think that’s probably a stretch,” I say with flat lips and a gentle nod. I just can’t see a scenario where I look back on this day with anything other than fear and regret. We’ve made a string of bad decisions and we are facing almost unbeatable odds. I just don’t know how I could ever look back at this day with rose-colored lenses, though I admire anyone who could muster such a feat.
That person just isn’t me.
“Cheer up.” He reaches across the couch and pets his thumb against my cheek. I lean into his touch once more and close my eyes as his fingers graze over my flesh. “I know that’s next to impossible to do right now, but trust me, just the thought that you want to feel better is enough to oftentimes make you feel better.”
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that.”
“Just try it.” He smiles warmly and pets his thumb over my cheek once more. “Just think positive thoughts and let yourself get lost in them.”
“That’s not going to work,” I scoff and jump to my feet. As soon as the words come out of my mouth with such attitude, I instantly regret them and feel bad. I drop my gaze to him and shake my head gently. “I wish it was that easy.”
“Nothing in this life that’s easy is worthwhile,” he points out, which I suppose is a good motto. He reaches his hand outwards to assist me back onto the couch. I accept his assistance and sit back down next to him, closer than I was sitting before. “Come here.”
I do as asked, scooting my body in-between his legs and lying in his lap. My head drapes against his strong chest and when my eyes peel upwards, I notice him watching me intently, the same smile never ceasing to erase from his lips.
He’s so damn kissable. So damn loveable. There are two sides to him. The loving, caring, soft guy. And then the military guy; the guy who is strong and hard, and closed off to the world. I kind of love both of them for different reasons, and together, they create the essence of who Zane Richards is. And that person is an amazing person who I wouldn’t mind spending my life with.
“I know this is probably terrible timing,” he says from beneath me and shifts slightly so that I almost think it’s me that’s making him uncomfortable. He drops his head sideways and steals my attention with his gaze. “But I really need to use the bathroom.”
I roll my eyes and chuckle under my breath as I shift upwards on the couch to a sitting position. He caresses my back in slow circles before he kicks his feet off over the edge and rises to his feet.
“I’ll be right back,” he grinds out and then cracks a cocky grin. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“Sure thing, captain.”
He looks at me once more before making his way to the bathroom door on the right wall. I watch him as he departs from the living room, and there is an eerie feeling sinking into my gut that something is wrong. But I know that is nonsense. It’s not exactly like I have a good radar for those kind of things anyways.
After our conversation, I finally decide to make a real drink and actually drink it. I step back into the kitchen and grab the bottle of whiskey to pour it into an empty glass. I then grab the apple juice and decide to mix it with the whiskey. It will probably taste disgusting, but I'm in adventurous mood all of a sudden.
I grab a spoon out of the utensil drawer and stir the drink gently. I'm not an expert bartender, however, I know that I do not have the appropriate tools to be making an actual drink. It's probably going to taste like shit and I'm OK with that.
From behind me, I feel a breeze. It chills me to my core. So much that I drop the spoon onto the counter and as chills run down my spine, I twist my head over my shoulder and see the main steel door cracked open.
“Zane?” I whisper under my breath, all the while knowing he wouldn't be so careless as to leave the door open even if he did leave me here alone. I step carefully, slowly around the countertop. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a shadow.