Page 6 of Our Little Dove

My lungs burn as I try to inhale a panicked breath. Fear takes over my body, and my eyes widen as I catch sight of my attacker in the rearview mirror. I see a stark white Balaclava and golden-brown eyes staring back at me. He slightly lets up, and I can suck in some air, but the rag still covers my face.

Oh my God! What’s that smell?

My vision blurs, and my erratic breathing becomes labored. The masked man chuckles close to my ear as I begin fading into unconsciousness. “Don’t worry, baby. We’re going to have so much fun together,” he whispers, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine.

My foggy mind races as I try to figure out what is happening.

Is he going to hurt me? Wait, is this the fake kidnapping?! They broke my window?!

The last thing I remember before everything goes black is the feeling of his rough hand wiping the terrified tears from my cheeks.

Friday, 7:32 PM

My heart is pounding as we walk into the surprisingly crowded pub. The chatter and laughter oddly ease my nerves—at least I’m not alone with Joel just yet. I need some liquid courage before I can handle his undivided attention.

I settle into a booth and take a deep breath, comforted by the warm glow of the string-lights overhead, while Joel makes his way to the bar. Moments later, Joel emerges from the horde of people trying to get the bartender’s attention with a triumphant smirk.

Joel places two glasses of amber liquid on the table, the ice clinking musically against the glass. “Thank you,” I smile and he dips his head in response. The aroma of aged whiskey fills the air, mingling with the intoxicating cologne Joel is wearing. Rich leather and hints of peppermint—a scent that could bring me to my knees.

I watch as Joel slides into his seat, his presence a blend of confidence and mystery that sends waves of anticipation through my veins.

“Cheers,” he says with a playful gleam in his eye, raising his glass for a toast. I follow suit, our glasses clinking together. Theliquid courageflows through me like a burning tide, easing my earlier jitters and replacing them with a newfound sense of excitement.

The pub comes alive with a symphony of conversations, each one weaving into the tapestry of sound that engulfs us. Laughter from a nearby group of patrons infuses the air with infectious joy, while a soft murmur of hushed whispers tickles the edges of my consciousness.

I steal a glance at Joel and his gaze locks on me—intense yet gentle. His eyes hold a promise of adventure, like hidden treasure waiting to be discovered. “So, what did Alex tell you about me? What made you ask me out?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady despite the rapid beating of my heart.

He smirks, a devilish twinkle in his eye while holding his drink in front of his curved lips. I can’t help but drop my gaze to his mouth and swallow around the sudden lump in my throat. “She said we’ll make a good match, but I have to say…curiosity is what made me text you,” he replies cryptically, swirling the amber liquid in his glass before taking another sip.

As Joel’s words hang in the air, a shiver ripples down my spine. I lean closer, my voice barely above a whisper. “Curiosity about what, exactly?”

A rare glimpse of Joel’s dimples accompanies a playful grin. “Well,” he begins, drawing out the word as if savoring its taste, “curiosity about the woman who hides behind that captivating smile and those eyes filled with unspoken adventurous stories.”

My cheeks flush. Joel’s words weave a magnetic thread between us, drawing me irresistibly closer to him. I take a sip ofmy whiskey, feeling its warmth spread through every fiber of my being.

Molly, keep it together.

Instinctively I press my thighs together as his words coil around the rapid beating of my heart and slither down to my core like a dangerous snake whispering lustful promises.

The pub becomes a distant blur as our conversation takes on a life of its own. Words spill effortlessly from our lips, entangled in a web of shared laughter andmostlyunspoken desires. I mean, there are things you just don’t admit on a first date.

Joel’s voice carries an alluring cadence, like music drifting from a faraway realm. He tells me about his love for adventure—the way he yearns to explore untouched landscapes and discover hidden treasures. His words fuel my longing for adventure, igniting a spark deep within me.

Every second in Joel’s company is electric. Our bond strengthens with each laugh, and especially our passionate debate about Star Wars versus Star Trek. He gets me. We can talk for hours about our love of the outdoors, debating the best hiking trails near town, the classics like The Breakfast Club, and singing along to cheesy 80s soundtracks.

Tonight is better than I could have imagined. I seriously need to make Alex’s experience as good as mine. This is fucking perfection—so far.

We chat about everything and nothing, from our favorite toppings on pizza—we both love pineapple—to our usual coffee orders at Starbucks. The hours fly by in a blur of good food, easy rapport, and plenty of 80s references that no one else in this place understands. But we get each other.

I never want this night to end.

Friday, 7:18 PM

Kieran and I hook Alex’s car to the SUV after we secure her safely on our back seat before driving to our building. I carefully maneuver through the dark streets as the relentless rain obscures our surroundings. The building looms ahead, its run-down façade blends into the chaos of the storm.

I pull around the building to the back and pull Alex’s car into the garage, making sure it’s secure and out of sight.

Kieran and I hop out of the vehicle once the rusted metal door lowers to a close. “I’ll get the door,” Kieran says as I move to pick Alex up off the backseat before we head inside.

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