Page 4 of Would You Rather
I glare down at her. “Yes. The intercoms don’t work.”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I mean on your phone.”
Fuck. My brows furrow. Why didn’t I think of that? “I was just about to,” I lie, searching for my mom’s name. The line beeps a few times, and then the call ends. “Fuck. No signal. The blackout must have interfered with the power lines.”
The girl starts crying again, and I turn around, the sight of her crying and shaking her head in absolute agony. It stabs at my chest, so I let out a sigh and crouch down to her level. “Hey,” I say, approaching her. “What’s your name?” I reach out my hand and place it on her arm.
Oh fuck. Wrong move. She sucks in a breath and flinches away from me. “Don’t touch me.” Her voice cracks, and I take a step back from her.
“Okay, okay.” I hold my hands up. “I’m not going to touch you, okay? Just open your eyes and look at me. Can you do that?”
She shakes her head and squeezes her eyes even tighter. Her breathing has become erratic as small hiccups escape her. Jesus, I need to calm her down.
“What’s your name?” I ask her again, using a gentler tone this time. She doesn’t reply; she just keeps crying. “My name’s Lucas. What’s yours?”
She looks up at me, her eyes glassy as tears stream down her face. At least it’s a start. “Mad-e-line.” It comes out choppy and mixed with hiccups, but at least she said it.
I give her a smile, wanting to make her feel comfortable and, most importantly – calm. “That’s a nice name,” I tell her. “Okay, Madeline. I need you to breathe for me. Can you do that?”
She narrows her eyes. “Why are you speaking to me like a child?”
I press my lips together in amusement. This girl is not easy to work with, is she? “Hey, you’re making jokes.”
She lets out a breath, but it still sounds choppy. I shake my head. “Breathe, Madeline,” I tell her. I inhale deeply, wanting her to do the same. “Come on. Just breathe.”
She glances at me and imitates me by inhaling deeply and then lets out a breath. I drop to my ass, sitting back against the wall, and run my hand through my hair. Fuck my life. I need to be at the hospital right now.
“Are you scared of heights or something?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. Huh. I wonder why she’s freaking out then. I don’t have much time to think about it because the lights turn back on, making my eyes widen.
“Hey.” I glance toward her, seeing more of her now that we’re not in the dark. “See? I told you it would come back on soon.”
When the elevator starts moving, I grin, lifting myself off the floor. She doesn’t move, though, still in the same position, and I hear her soft cries. Fuck, I’ve never been good with tears, and hers are like a shot through the heart.
The elevator dings when we reach the ground floor, and the doors open up. “Oh, thank goodness.” I lift my eyes to see an older woman letting out a breath. She clutches her jacket and shakes her head. “I tried getting help. I saw the elevator was stuck.”
“Thank you,” I tell the woman, noting the repair guy beside her.
She smiles back, but then a frown appears as her eyes drop to the ground, where Madeline is still sitting. “Is she okay?” the lady asks.
Fuck knows. “She’s fine,” I reply, heading back into the elevator. “Madeline,” I call out for her. “The doors are open now. You’re all good.”
She doesn’t move from the spot on the floor, and my brows furrow. Murmurs sound behind me, and I glance outside to see more people gathering around, trying to look inside. Shit. This is not good. If someone recognizes me, the paparazzi won’t stop, and this girl doesn’t deserve that.
I clench my jaw and lean closer to her. “Madeline,” I whisper, careful not to touch her again. “You need to get up.”
It’s like she doesn’t hear me. She makes no effort to move, and the crowd gathering is getting bigger by the second. I blow out a breath, taking matters into my own hands.
Positioning my hands below her, I lift her off the ground and pick her up in my arms. She gasps, wrapping her arms around my neck so she doesn’t fall.Finally.A damn reaction from her. Her eyes widen when she looks up at me and I carry her out of the elevator and head outside. People murmur and talk behind me, but I honestly don’t give a fuck. Fat chance I’ll ever see them again anyway.
“What are you doing?” she asks when I push through the doors, the rain falling on us. She starts to kick her feet, but at least she’s not screaming.
“I’m getting you out of here.” I narrow my eyes at her. “Stop kicking your feet.” The rain falls on us harder, coating us from head to toe, and she kicks her feet harder. “Stop that,” I tell her. “Someone’s going to think I’ve kidnapped you.”
“Then put me down.”
I stare down at her, noting her face drenched from the rain, her narrowed eyes, her full lips in a scowl, and I breathe harshly.
