Chapter 3

Chad didn't seem angry at my outburst. Instead, his entire demeanor shifted. He dropped the V-neck and stood up straight, his face morphing into a look of hurt puppy-dog sincerity.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry," he said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. He even managed to make his voice sound a little wobbly. "I came on too strong. I get it. I was just so excited. Please don't be mad."

He pouted. A man in his early thirties was actually pouting at me. The performance was so over-the-top it made the hair on my arms stand up. A cold shiver ran down my spine.

"I just want you to leave," I said, my voice flat.

I didn't want to engage. I didn't want to give him any more material. I sat back down, pulling my phone out and pretending to be absorbed in a game. I opened a simple block-clearing game, the colorful little jewels a stark contrast to the ugly situation I was in. I just needed to buy time. John would be here any minute.

To my surprise, Chad seemed to take the hint.

"Okay," he sighed dramatically. "I'll go. I guess I'll just have to find another lucky lady for my challenge."

He turned and walked towards the glass doors, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He didn't turn off his phone, though. He was broadcasting his "rejection" to his audience.

I watched him leave, a long, slow breath escaping my lungs. I hadn't realized how tense I was. I scanned the lobby. There was a security camera pointed directly at the entrance and the couch I was on. Good. Whatever happened was on tape.

My relief, however, was short-lived. I glanced at my phone screen. The game was still open, but in the top right corner, the battery icon glowed a menacing red. 5%.

A new wave of anxiety washed over me. I needed to keep my phone on. It was my only link to my brothers, my only proof of location. I quickly closed the game and dimmed my screen to conserve power.

I looked around the lobby again. The area with the couches was well-lit and covered by the camera, but the far end of the lobby, near a side exit, was dimmer. I remembered from our office safety briefing that the camera's angle created a small blind spot over there. I decided to stay put. It was better to be visible. I just had to wait for John.

The glass doors slid open again.

My heart leaped into my throat, thinking it was my brother.

It was Chad.

He was back. And this time, he was holding a huge bouquet of roses, their red petals a violent splash of color in the sterile lobby.