Charlotte left her office locking the
front door with her purse held high on her shoulder. She made it to the elevator, and frowned as the door opened
just as she was about to press the down button. The blonde haired wiry man inside didn’t move immediately,
but the look he leveled at her from his narrow blue eyes said volumes to what
he intended if she boarded.
Charlotte took two steps back, and the man bolted from the back of the
elevator. She turned, and ran for
the stairwell.
He was right behind her having cleared
the elevator successfully. Almost in surround sound she could hear the heavy
fall of his feet behind her. No
matter how much she wanted to, she didn’t look back as she burst through the
door into the stairwell. The
stairwell was stark white, and went down in a circular motion almost. You could look over the edge of the
handrails, and see the three floors below.
Charlotte knew that she couldn’t just
flat out run the man so she threw her weight against the door she had just
burst through. She heard the man’s bellow of pain from getting his arm hinged
in the door. Frantically Charlotte
dug through her purse for her keys as the door started to push her into the
corner behind it. She pulled the
pepper spray, and guessed where to aim.
Sticking her arm around the door she sprayed in circles hoping that it
was somewhere near the asshole’s eyes.
The pressure on the door eased, and she
heard the cursing, and yelling indicating that she had guessed right. Rushing past the man wiping his eyes at
the door she started flying down the stairs as fast as she could using the
handrails for leverage as she hopped the corners. Just like she used to do when she was younger, and
trying to outrun her older, longer legged brother. She almost tripped over her own two feet in her haste to get
away. Behind her were the solid
thuds of his feet hitting the steps a beat or two after her.
She reached the first floor, and was
about to head out to get help from Harold. But the door flew open as she jumped the last two steps to
the landing. Thomas in his ball
cap, and oversized clothes filled the space shoving her forcefully into the
corner of the space behind him, and closing the doorway in the same motion. Charlotte watched in dazed car wreck
fashion as Thomas used the man’s flight to run him into the closed door. His now limp body fell with a crash to
the ground. Thomas flipped
out his cell phone, dialed a number, and then put it on the ground. In a practiced gesture he pulled out a
pair of handcuffs, fell to one knee, and cuffed the man lying on the ground
before them in seconds. Then his
golden eyes lanced Charlotte’s from beneath the brim of his plain brown low
worn hat.
In the next moment he leaned over to
her, and wrapped an arm around her waist as one large hand pushed against the
wall behind her. He stood up
smoothly pulling her to her feet, and out of the corner. The action brought her
body nearly flush with his. Her
nostrils flared filling with the scents that comprised him at that moment. A heady musky masculine smell mixed
with the scents of the air, and grass outside. It pulled her in, this strange mix of man, rain, and freshly
cut grass.
“Are you alright?” His silky voice poured over her huskily
as he slid his other arm around her waist. His fingertips were just a hair’s breath away from her bare
skin as they ruched the turtleneck sweater that she hadn’t bothered to tuck
back in up a little.
The bulky heels of her boots gave her
enough height that the top of her head was level with his eyes. She nodded, tilting her head up so her
eyes couldn’t leave his. Her arms
were pressed between their bodies putting her elbows in her gut, and crowding
her hands under her chin. The most natural thing in the world to do was flatten
her palms against the warmth and solid comfort of his chest. The second she placed her hands on him
though, he pushed her away.
“Don’t say anything to the guard. Go
home. I’ll meet you there.” He said urgently his eyes searching her face as he
pushed her beyond the circle of his arms.
Oddly he pushed a wisp of her hair out of her eyes then shoved her out
of the stairwell door.
Charlotte tried to carry on like she
hadn’t just run down four flights of stairs from a mad man that was trying to
do God knows what to her. She
passed by Harold, and stopped, coming back. He would think it was odd if she didn’t speak to him.
“I hope that the call I sent up did you
some good Miss Charlotte.”
A bubble of nervous laughter pealed
from Charlotte. “Yes it did. Thank you so much for that.”
The weathered mustached man nodded
satisfied. “Glad to help. You have a good one.”
She started away not really sure she
was actually pulling this off.
“You too Harold. I’m on vacation so I won’t be back for a couple of
weeks.”
The weathered face broke into a grin
that made him look ten years younger. “Have a great time Miss Charlotte. Hard
working woman like you; it’s good to get away every once in a while.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” she muttered
as she passively watched two men in suits enter the stairwell.
After a few moments her eyes briefly
connected with the intense golden gaze of Thomas Glendel. Smoothly he walked
away from the stairwell, and out of the lobby door with the ease of air, and
without one hint of wasted effort or motion. Oddly it made her recall the way he had handled Deborah in
the hospital. Then Charlotte had
likened him to a jaguar, all sinew, and tightly corded muscle.
In the stairwell he had lifted her
almost deadweight from the floor with an ease that attested to the power he
held in that tightly coiled frame.
Then add the fact that he himself hadn’t even been stabilized when he’d
done it. He had pushed her away
like they were strangers, and nearly in the same instant pushed that strand of
hair from her eyes as if they had known each other forever. What an odd and interesting man. The thought was repeated from when he
had walked her back from the hospital parking lot with Sandra’s luggage.
“Bye Harold.” Charlotte turned, and
followed the oddity out.
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