The person rattles on, saying things I don’t understand. The voice disappears as they say something I assume is along the lines of help is coming. I check my phone for service, but the lack of bars makes me curse.
“How long do you think we will be stuck in here?” Chloe’s voice doesn’t carry its usual assuredness. It sounds small and weak, which concerns me.
“I don’t know. Could be an hour or more probably? It depends on if we are stuck between floors.”
“I can’t decide if I feel like throwing up or crying.” The tapping of her heel against the floor gives away her agitation.
I’m not sure if the rush of adrenaline or gratitude for being okay has me laughing up to the roof of the small car. “While I’d hate for you to cry, please don’t throw up in here. That would make a bad situation way worse.”
“This isn’t funny!”
“It’s a little funny.”
“How? We almost died!”
I walk up to her and press my body into hers, trapping her in a corner. My hand has a mind of its own, wrapping strands of Chloe’s hair around my fingers. “But we didn’t.”
“That’s so not reassuring.” Her voice wavers. “Is now the time to reveal to you how I don’t like tight, dark spaces?”
“Shit. Are you claustrophobic?”
“Umm.”
Fuck. Her breathing quickens. I pluck my phone out of my pocket and use the flashlight. She winces at the sudden brightness. I bend over and place the phone on the floor, illuminating the space enough to make out her shadow.
“Is that better?”
“A little bit.” Her voice hits a new high
pitch.
Okay, so not better. Think, Santiago.
Everything clicks into place. I use the handle behind Chloe to kneel. The movement is anything but steady and fluid, but the limited lighting conceals my struggle.
Chloe’s hand freezes on my shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Well seeing as how I can barely see in the first place... Did you drop something?”
Her reaction has me chuckling. “No.”
“Then why are you kneeling on the floor?”
“Take a guess.”
“Now’s not the time for games.” Her voice cracks. It’s obvious she’s about to flip out at any second.
“Why would I play when I already won?” I run my fingers down her dress before lifting the hem.
“Oh, God.” Chloe’s panicky voice morphs into breathless pants.
“Not even He can save you from me.” I press a kiss against her silk-covered center. The material blocks me, but Chloe gets my message.
“Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck.”
I chuckle under my breath. “Jump onto the handlebar and hold on to the hem of your dress.”