“My guess is they couldn’t get in, so they made a new door.”
“Ugh!” The exclamation leaves me in a furious, unladylike growl. “I’m going to wrap each of their nuts around their throats and make them chew on them like fucking bubble gum!”
He smirks and tosses me the tranq gun after I slide my feet into a pair of Toms slip-on shoes. “Damn sweetie, you’re mesmerizing when you’re pissed.” He gestures to the metal contraption. “Use that on any fucker who comes at you.”
“I’d rather fight.”
“If you want to make it safely out of here, you’re going to have to trust me on this, Chevelle. I know you can fight, but what if there are three coming for you? Take out whoever you can safely, and then use your fists.”
I huff but refrain from arguing with him. He knows this type of life better than I do. I got through the streets as a kid; I’ll make it through a pack of rabid bikers.
“You’ll wear yourself out too fast, and we may need to fight at some point to get out of here. If we can take some of the threat out with weapons, then let’s use it to our advantage. I couldn’t handle it if one of them hurt you. It’d be a bloodbath as I tore them limb from limb for it.”
“I get it.”
“Good, now where can we hide for the next twenty minutes or so where no one will think to look for us? We need to wait for backup to get here. I won’t do anything to jeopardize your safety.”
“Follow me.” I gesture toward the door with him in tow. I lock it on our way out, and we walk down the hall between my office and my apartment, stopping in front of the maintenance door in the middle. “I need to lock my office.”
“No, we don’t.”
“It’ll be a distraction if they think we’re locked in one of these rooms.”
He has an ‘ah-ha’ moment and takes off jogging to my office. He opens the door and quickly locks it before closing it silently. “Locked.” He tilts his head to me, coming to stand at my side.
I nod, remaining silent and open the janitor closet door. He rakes a hand through his spikey dark hair and then massages the back of his neck. “Locking three doors wasn’t my idea of hiding out, sweetie.”
“Shh!” I shoot him a glare and lock the thick metal maintenance door behind us.
He huffs, not so patiently watching me with a raised eyebrow. I head for the corner in the back right of the small ten-by-ten-foot room, lined with metal shelves and various cleaning supplies. I wave him to come near and point at the small square cut in the roof covered by thin wood. It’s painted to match the ceiling, so you don’t notice it right away when coming in the room.
“An attic?” he guesses.
I whisper, replying, “No, it’s access for an electrician or to fix the dome, that sort of thing.”
“Ah.” He nods again, concentrating on listening for anyone coming up to this level.
“I’m too short; you have to pull the lip down.”
He pulls me behind him and hops, easily touching the ceiling. His fingers skirt over the lip, missing. Taking a deep breath, he jumps again, this time finding purchase when his middle finger sinks into the one-inch-sized slot. He pulls the door all the way open, so it hangs toward us.
“I’ll lift you.” His hands go out to grip my waist, hefting me up. The man is definitely stronger than any other I’ve been with. He lifts me with such ease, and I can’t help but think of what else he could do with my body like this if we were naked and not being hunted down by an irate MC club.
My hands reach for the opening, and I help to pull myself into the small entry area. Turning over, I sit on my butt and slide backward to give him some room. My hands come away covered in dust, and I quietly clap them together to remove the scratchy feeling. The area’s a bit musty, the air stale like a closed-up attic. Good thing I don’t have asthma—this would be an attack waiting to happen.
Good thing he enjoys pull-ups so much; a weaker man wouldn’t make it. A few beats pass, and I’m about to pop my head back over when his hands appear, grasping the sides. He easily pulls himself up, high enough to readjust and get his elbows planted on the beams running along each side of the opening. This is just another randomly placed work out for him I suppose. Who needs a gym when you have ceiling beams to keep you fit?
He finds me. His brows jump, and I see he has a flashlight gripped in his mouth between his teeth. I go to reach for him to try and help pull him in, but he shakes his head. I reach for the flashlight and free it from his clenched teeth. He blows out a breath, his muscles bulging as he finishes lifting himself up. Once he makes it, he flips around, lies on his stomach, and reaches for the door, securing it to the ceiling before scooting back beside me.
“Good thinking,” I praise, holding up the flashlight.
He nods, drawing in a deep, shaky breath. Sweat dots his brow as he peeks around me. “Now what?”
“We should probably move farther away in case any of them find the ceiling entry and pop their heads up to look for us.”
He agrees, and I click on the flashlight, crawling on my hands and knees under the low roof until we make it next to the air conditioning unit. I edge around it until I’m safely hidden from sight, and he does the same.
“It’s hot up here,” he releases a breath, as more sweat droplets drip down his brow.