‘Possibly. As long as we don’t expire in here over the weekend.’
He huffed a laugh. ‘Here’s hoping that’s not the case.’
Lila
Lila hoped it wasn’t the case as well, although she had swiftly done a U-turn in her opinion and realised that being with Rowan was alotmore pleasant than getting the third degree at the pub. If you ignored the whole trapped and desperate-to-escape vibe.
He was pretty easy to talk to. Her social anxiety didn’t mean it was impossible for her to enjoy conversing – it was just the odds of relaxing into it were really against her. A large part of it depended on the person she was trying to communicate with. If they were cold and gave off a judgemental attitude – like Sibyl – she found herself shrivelling up inside, but Rowan…That voice was like some kind of sedative drug and his ability to sound sonormaland down-to-earth, when she knew he must be anything but… She’d never really known what charisma meant, but she felt like maybe that was the spell he was putting her under.
It was tempting to lift the light towards his face whenever he spoke but she carried on searching. ‘Oh, this might be something we can use. Could you hold this, please?’ He took his cell back and followed her movements as she pulled a plastic box out. It was a stash of supplies used to create fake wounds. There was a small knife inside for slicing the rubber into the right shape. It had to be extremely sharp to make sure the edges stayed neat. She unclipped the box and took it out. ‘D’you reckon this could work?’
He put his cell phone just by their shoulders and leaned in to scrutinise it. And just like that, Lila’s internal organs froze. His face was suddenly less than a foot away from hers, the light cast across his features and revealing…well, the image she knew from films and TV and magazines and posters. But in the flesh. Cheekbones sharp enough that they probably should have considered using those as a tool first and foremost. A mouth with such a sensual curve to the bottom lip, it was almost indecent, and eyes—
That flicked up to hers and held her in their golden depths, all honey and whisky tones. So warm in real life, she was infused with the strangest feeling; like drinking hot chocolate after walking home in the snow, thawing from the inside out.
Time suspended as he stared back at her, and she realised he was taking her in for the first time too. Her cheeks flushed with a much more usual kind of heat, and he stood up straight, breaking the moment.
‘Let’s do it,’ he said. Lila nearly dropped the knife. And then nearly dropped the box too. He cleared his throat. ‘I mean, yeah, it looks like it could work, let’s give it a try.’
He slid his phone into his pocket, instantly making the darkness draw in again, despite the faint glow from his backside. His fingers found her arm – she jumped at the warmth of his hand, and he immediately apologised – continuing his search for the box to slide it back on the shelf.
He backed away towards the door, getting his phone out once more and directing it at the lock. Lila took a deep, quiet breath and told herself to get it together. They needed to get out of here.
They regarded the inside of the lock critically. Four regular-sized screws. She slipped the plastic sheath from the knife and slotted the thin blade into the cross on the top of the first one.
‘Righty-tighty, lefty-loosey,’ she reminded herself before she attempted to turn it. Nothing happened, except that she was scared the blade was going to snap. Her hands were shaking a little because he was watching her and she didn’t know if it was that, or just a male thing, that made him offer to try. They swapped tools.
His fingers were long, hands tanned, and his wrists looked strong. Not that she’d ever really looked at someone’s wrists and assessed them in that way before. He tried a different screw, bracing his other hand around the lock.
‘C’mon,’ he muttered, right before the force he was putting on it made his hand slip. He hissed and there was the chink of the knife falling to the tiled floor.
‘Oh no. Are you okay?’
‘Yep,’ he replied, and she directed the light up to his face to see he was sucking at the side of his hand.
‘No, you’re not. You cut yourself. Let me see.’ She pulled his hand down and saw an inch-long gash, welling instantly with blood. ‘That isnotgood. That knife was practically surgical. You might need stitches.’
‘It’s fine. It’ll be fine.’
‘Oh, stop being such a guy about it.’ Her tension released in the scold, and she instantly felt mortified. ‘Sor—’
‘Don’tapologise,’ he interrupted. ‘You’re right. I’m being an idiot. There must be something we can use as a bandage in here.’
‘Definitely. Squeeze the sides together, I’ll find something. Lord, wouldn’t this all be easier if there was a working light in here.’ She tried to laugh.
‘Well, while we’re wishing for useful things, a phone signal and a working lock would be good too. Whatisthis hellhole they’ve given the makeup department? D’you reckon it’s because Sibyl’s such an old dragon?’
Lila laughed in shock but didn’t say anything. She remembered seeing the cotton wool pads in the right-hand corner of the second shelf up from the floor. And there had to be some cleansing wipes somewhere. She juggled some supplies and hurried back. ‘I’m making such a mess of the shelves.’
‘Just think how mad they’re going to be when we have to start eating face cream for sustenance.’
‘I think the cucumber face masks would be tastier.’
He laughed and took his phone back from her again. She wiped the slice on his hand clean. It was still bleeding freely, so she taped a wedge of cotton wool pads around his hand as tightly as she could to try and stem it. ‘Thank you.’
‘Least I could do. My silly idea to use a knife as a screwdriver.’
‘It was a good idea. The screws are probably rusted into place.’ He fiddled with his phone and turned the torch app off, then checked the screen. ‘Still no signal.’ He sighed.
