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TWENTY-EIGHT
ALLURA
The exterior of the building resembles every other mafia family’s house—lofty with security cameras everywhere and glass entrance doors. When we walk in, however, the interior looks nothing like what I’m accustomed to. While the place is definitely lavish, the Victorian wallpaper and hardwood floors breathe out a warmth that almost instantly reduces the pressure in my chest.
Ryder and Reece greet the doorman as they pass him, and I follow with Blaise, who stays close to me. His hand rests on my lower back, and I’m too worn out to protest that. Instead, I robotically follow the guys onto the elevator that looks straight out the 1920s.
What the hell is this old-school vibe? Sure, I’m into it, but the guys never have been.
As the elevator doors shut with a squeak, Reece cringes. “I really think we should get someone to recheck this thing and make sure it’s safe,” he mumbles as he leans against the gold-plated walls. “It’s sketchy as fuck.”
Ryder is reading a message on his phone and barely glances up as the elevator starts its ascent with a jerk.
Reece is standing by me and instinctively grabs my arm in a death grip.
Not only does Reece suffer from acrophobia, but he’s also claustrophobic. The latter stems from years of being locked in a closet by his mother whenever he misbehaved. No one but me knows this about him.
I guess that could’ve changed, though. Who knows?
I should move my arm away from his and let him deal with this on his own, like he let me deal with the last three years on my own. But when he squeezes his eyes shut, all I can see is the blond-haired boy who confessed to me once while we were playing hide and seek that he was terrified of confined spaces.
“I’d rather just hide behind the door,” he told me when I tried to convince him to climb under the bed with me.
“Ryder will find you in like five seconds if you do that.” I grabbed his hand. “Come on. Under the bed is way better.”
He refused to budge and shook his head with his eyes shut. “I can’t.”
I was so confused. “Why not?”
“Because … I’m afraid of small spaces.” He opened his eyes then, and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
“Oh.” I gave his hand a squeeze. “That’s okay. I’m afraid of snakes and dolls.”
He gaped at me. “Dolls?”
“Yeah, their beady little eyes are so creepy.” I shuddered, and he smiled. “It’s okay if you want to hide behind the door. I’ll hide with you.”
“Are you sure? Because you don’t have to.”
“No way. We’re in this together.”
Blinking from the memory, I remove his hand from my arm, but only so I can thread our fingers together. He momentarily stiffens then latches on to me for dear life.
Blaise is standing across from us and immediately notes Reece's and mine’s interlocked fingers. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear a whisper of a smile touches the corners of his lips.
Ryder notices, as well. He stares at our hands blankly before busying himself with his phone again.
It takes the elevator a while to climb to our floor, but it eventually stops, and the doors creak open with ading.
Reece’s eyes snap open, and he practically dives out, dragging me with him.
“Why did you pick a place with a hundred-year-old elevator if you’re scared of them?” I ask Reece as he lets go of my hand, leans over, braces his hands on his knees, and gasps for air.
He takes another breath and another before gesturing around at the room we’re in. “Because of this.”
I finally take note of where we’re at, and my lips part.
It’s unlike any other entryway I’ve ever seen, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves bordering the walls and a chandelier woven of black metal vines and thorns that illuminate a silvery glow across the hardwood floors.
