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She bristled. “If you wanted to, you could fix this.”
He let out a deep breath and turned to face her.
“It’s illegal for you to be in here,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I don’t care if I’m arrested,” she said, sitting perfectly still.
“I’m not even going to ask how you got in,” he said.
“Good, I won’t tell anyway,” she answered, shutting her mouth tight.
“If you’d just leave, I won’t involve the Capitol police. Hell, I’ll even walk you over to Senate Minority Leader Birmingham’s office myself, so you can protest to the right person.”
She rolled her eyes.
“We can go right now.”
“I don’t have the key.”
He stared at her for a moment, taking in her words. A line creased between his brow.
“To the handcuffs...I...I don’t have the key,” she stammered.
He scoffed.
“Of course,” he said, walking toward her.
She flinched as he knelt in front of her. His knee brushed her thigh.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, softly. “Let me see those handcuffs.”
She lifted her hand. He took it gently - turning it over to see both sides of the cuffs. Her skin was soft and warm to the touch. He lingered for a moment longer than he needed, and then reached in his pocket and pulled out a knife.
Her body stiffened.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said again, louder this time.
He could see she was holding her breath.
“You can breathe. I’m just going to try to pick this lock,” he said.
He fiddled with his knife until he had the right attachment and began to wiggle it into the tiny keyhole.
“I grew up in and out of foster care,” he said. “It’s amazing the things I picked up.”
“I don’t need...”
“Shhh...” he said, leaning his head closer to her wrist. He jiggled the knife until he heard a small click. The cuff popped open.
She rubbed her wrist.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
She glared at him.
“Do you need me to escort you out or direct you to the opposition party?”
Liv shook her head.
