Page 14 of His to Take

"Wait, why?" he asked, his voice betraying his anxiety. Memories of Logan's brutal beating and the feeling of utter helplessness swamped his mind. Dylan swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure.

Ajax regarded him with a hint of concern. "I just need to see someone. I'll be back shortly." His intense gaze bore into Dylan's eyes as he added, "Behave yourself."

"Never," Dylan repeated, smirking. The corner of Ajax's mouth twitched in annoyance, but Dylan could've sworn he saw amusement lingering in those dark eyes. With a final stern look, Ajax turned and left the hotel room.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Dylan sprang to his feet and tried the handle. Locked, of course. He sighed in resignation and leaned against the door, listening to Ajax's retreating footsteps.

"Great," he muttered under his breath.

While Ajax was away, Dylan needed to make the most of this brief moment of solitude. But how?

He paced the hotel room restlessly. The carpet muffled his footsteps as he wandered from corner to corner, feeling like a caged animal. He glanced at the various paintings on the walls as if they could help him with an escape plan, but the painted fruit bowls and landscapes did jack shit.

He looked out onto the tiny balcony. There were other neighbouring balconies, but… Dylan looked down at the distant ground, and swallowed. You'd have to be pretty fucking desperate to try to pull some parkour shit here. No, jumping to another balcony was out of the question.

"Damn it," he muttered, raking a hand through his damp hair. He looked around…

His gaze fell upon the briefcase stashed beneath the couch.

Don't touch this.The memory of Ajax's stern command sparked a wicked grin across Dylan's face. He crouched down and pulled the briefcase out, feeling its surprising weight in his hands.

"Hello, beautiful," he cooed, running his fingers along the cool metal edges. "Let's see what you're hiding."

It was closed, of course. It looked heavy duty, and when Dylan gave the six-digit combination lock a sharp jerk, it didn't budge.

The lock taunted him. Dylan's heart raced as he imagined the look on Ajax's face if he returned to find the case open and rifled through. A surge of satisfaction coursed through him at the prospect of defying Ajax in this small way.

It was just numbers, right? Anyone could spin barrels. "Alright, let's crack this baby open," Dylan muttered, his eyes narrowing as he studied the combination lock.

1-2-3-4-5-6? He twisted the numbers into place and tugged on the latch.

Nothing happened. Damn.

If only he knew the man's birthday. Dylan tried a random combination of numbers – still no luck.

"Ugh, come on! What could it be?" he growled, frustration mounting. He tapped his fingers on the case, brainstorming other possibilities. "6-9-6-9-6-9? He snorted and tried the combination, but the lock remained stubbornly shut. "C'mon, open! I'm gonna lose my mind here!"

He spun the first digit wheel idly, rolling it back and forward as he thought.

And then he froze.

If he rolled it slowly… There! There was a tiny little moment of resistance. If he hadn't been rolling it back and forward so many times, he wouldn't have even noticed it.

He focused his attention on the stubborn lock, fingers poised over the numbered dials. With a deep breath, he began to carefully roll the second number, straining to feel any subtle difference as the dial clicked into place.

"Come on... come on..." he whispered, his fingers trembling with anticipation. And then after a few minutes of slow rolling, hoping that he hadn't imagined it, there it was — another nearly imperceptible shift in the way the lock felt beneath his fingertips.

A shiver of excitement rippled through him as he set the first two numbers into place and moved onto the next number, hoping against hope.

How long was Ajax going to be gone for? Did he even have the time?

Not all the numbers were so helpful. It took nearly twenty minutes of focused testing to be able to feel for them, rolling the strips of numbers back and forward and searching for that tiny, almost imperceivable hitch.

"Almost... there..." Dylan breathed, feeling the sweat bead on his brow.

The last number clicked into place.

A triumphant grin spread across his face. "Take that, Ajax!"

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