Page 59 of Trapped By Clocks and Hearts

Get lost in this moment.

The ticking of the clock around us.

Allie’s breathing.

Her softness against my chest…since she wasn’t pulling away.

I happened to catch our reflection on the darkened glass wall of the clock tower. My arms were wrapped around her and she quite naturally leaned back against me.

My own mind was so clouded that, try as I might, I couldn’t pin down what Allie was feeling right then. What was she feeling? Did she want me to leave but couldn’t find the words? Did she want me to stay and keep holding her…?

A loud hiss of steam and a mechanical hum jerked me back to my senses as a bit of machinery came to life across the room.

I squinted. What the hell—?

The silent iron-framed cage of an ancient elevator well installed within the corner of the studio looked about the same as it always did—rusty, worn out, inoperable. Except…it was working?

Glimpses of exposed brass pipes and spinning gears passed before my eyes as the elevator car clinked and clanked upward disappearing into the studio ceiling.

My nerves set taut in an impending urge to jump into action once again, I released Allie before striding across the room to climb up the spiral staircase.

Ever curious, Allie followed behind me, peering past my form to see.

The squeaky elevator came to a stop with a slight jolt in the corner of my loft as a purple cat was tugging open the wrought-iron gates.

Upon catching sight of us by the stairs, Chez’s eyes lit up. “Oh, hey guys. Did you try out the elevator yet?”

Mystified, I blinked again. “What?” I was still trying to resurface from the haze of the unexpected onslaught of mixed emotions I had just absorbed.

“Allie fixed your elevator.” Chez crossed the floor. “Seriously, Rabb. When was the last time you had a walk around? Allie has been fixing all the rickety crumbling parts of this rust bucket clock tower you call a home.”

I glanced over at Allie standing beside me.

Eyes wide, she wrapped her arms around herself as though she was trying to ward herself from something, or shaking something off. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought her cheeks were tinged pink again.

Was she relieved about the interruption? Her manner still seemed apprehensive but at least her aura was more settled now than when I’d first gone downstairs.

I shot Chez a dark look. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? I’m busy.”

“I’m here to see Allie.”

“What makes you think Allie has time to entertain you?” I snapped.

“Um, I think I’ll go back downstairs and clean up that mess,” Allie said, her face still solemn.

I waved my hand with a bit of a spell. “It’s done.”

Stopping in mid-stride, Allie shot me a stunned look. “Uh, th-thanks.” She wrinkled her nose. Jerking her thumb down the stairs, she mumbled, “Still, I better go make sure nothing blows up again.”

“I didn’t magic all your stuff away,” I called out to let her know. “Just the broken glass mess.”

Pursing her lips, she nodded. “Great. Thank you.”

I watched her go down the staircase. An inexplicable lightness in my chest, I took a deep breath.

And Chez watched me.

I shot him a look. “What?”