Read Friday's Child Online

Authors: Clare Revell

Tags: #christian Fiction

Friday's Child (18 page)

BOOK: Friday's Child
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“Even after all I did to hurt you the past week…years?”

“Yes.”

He pulled her into the elevator as the doors opened. Fortunately they had it to themselves. He hit the button for the eighth floor and pressed her against the wall of the lift and lowered his voice. “There is something that I’ve always wanted to do in a lift.”

“Really?” She held his gaze. “And what might that be?”

He ran his fingers down her face, aware of the spark of electricity that passed between them and of the way she shifted slightly so her body was touching his.

Elle ran her hands over his arms. Did she realize how cute she was when she blushed?

Patrick pulled her closer, one hand running over her back, the other resting on her waist. He lost himself in her gaze. Her scent was overpowering, sending shivers down his spine and curling around his stomach. Slowly, he inclined his head towards hers. “This,” he whispered, his lips brushing against hers.

Her eyes widened as a jolt of electricity passed between them. “Ohhh,” she gasped.

Patrick pulled back. “I’m sorry.”

“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t be. Kiss me again.” She slid her hand around his neck and kissed him again. His hands moved in response, sliding through her hair.

The elevator shuddered and began to drop.

Elle cried out falling to the floor.

Patrick landed beside her, grabbing her hand and pulling her close, in the vain hope of protecting her. He closed his eyes tightly waiting for the final thud as the lift hit the bottom of the elevator shaft.

 

 

 

 

16

 

Elle felt Patrick’s hand touching hers as they fell and she gripped it tightly. She cried out as the elevator stopped with a stomach twisting jerk.

“It’s all right. We’ve stopped. The emergency brakes have kicked in. We’re not going anywhere.” He sat up and looked up at the doors. “We’re on the fourth floor. Are you all right? You’re not hurt?”

“I’m fine. How far did we fall?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t paying much attention.”

Elle backed into the corner and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, feeling the panic starting to set in. She looked up at Patrick. Did anything ever rattle him? Her voice shook as she tried to control her breathing. “We should have taken the stairs.”

“All eight floors? Besides they were blocked off.” Patrick hit the alarm and the bells began to echo through the elevator shaft. He shot a smile over at Elle as he opened the phone box, grabbed the phone and put it to his ear. “Hello? Yeah, there are two of us. The lift number is zero five. OK, thanks.”

He looked over at her as he put the phone down. “They’ll call the fire brigade and the lift engineers. We just have to wait.”

Elle shook her head. “Yay. Stuck in a lift, just what I wanted to do for the rest of the day. I need to get back to Abbie.”

“She’ll be fine.” He pulled out his mobile phone and checked for a signal, relief crossing his face as he found one. “Yeah Shay, it’s me. We’re trapped in a lift. I’ve rung for rescue, but wanted to let you know we won’t be appearing any time soon.” He smiled reassuringly at Elle. “I’ll tell her. Bye.”

“Tell me what?”

Patrick moved over and sat next to her. “Shay says she’ll sit with Abbie ‘til we get back.” He eyed her with concern as she tightened her arms around her knees. “You didn’t mind my company a few minutes ago. What’s changed?”

Elle closed her eyes for a moment, the silence broken by the ringing of the alarms. “Is this a good time to mention I suffer from claustrophobia? Always have. It’s like the walls are closing in on me here.”

Patrick put an arm around her. “I’m here with you.”

She shivered. The fear was totally irrational, but felt real none the less. “Least I don’t die alone.”

“We’re not going to die,” Patrick responded.

“Really?”

“Really. They’ll get us out.” He paused. “Besides its Saturday.”

Elle looked at him confused. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

He winked at her. “I have it on good authority that no one ever dies in a lift on a Saturday. I’ll give it to you in writing if you like.”

“If you want to, but like you keep telling me, you lie for work all the time. That’s when you’re not shooting people.”

“I only shoot the bad guys, and I use cover stories when I have to in order to keep the country safe.”

The elevator cables creaked. “How strong are those cables?”

“Those cables could break completely in two and we’d stay right here. The emergency brakes are on two huge poles on either side of the lift. We’re not going anywhere.”

“I see.” She took a deep breath. “Does the ‘not going anywhere’ mean we don’t get rescued either?”

Patrick pointed up at the roof hatch. “They’ll come through the roof. They’ll lower down from the next floor up and get us.”

Elle frowned. “On the TV it always stops by the doors and they just pry the doors open. Why’d they have to come through the roof?”

“They might not. We might be near enough the doors. But I promise they will get us out.”

“All right.” She sighed and hugged her knees closer. She was suffocating, but couldn’t let him see. “So, since we’re stuck here, tell me about your life the past fourteen years.”

Patrick looked at her. “You want my life story?”

“You know about my past, yet I know next to nothing about yours.”

He let out a deep breath and mirroring her, pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his free arm on them. “Honestly there’s not much to tell. I finished the course and then went to America for three months, sightseeing mostly. Then I spent three months in Australia doing the same thing. Came back here, joined MI5 and the rest as they say is history.”

“Have you ever killed anyone?” she asked more out of curiosity than anything else.

Patrick studied his nails. “Yeah.”

Elle rubbed his arm. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been hard.”

“It comes with the territory. We shoot to wound, to take them down before they get us or the general public. Sometimes it works, other times not so much.”

“Have you ever been shot?”

“I’ve had more than a few scrapes in the past. Shot once.” His brow furrowed and he gnawed his bottom lip. “Anyway, I’m married to my job, for better and worse and usually poorer rather than richer. The only girls I meet are ones I’m protecting, chasing, partnering or investigating. Or worst case scenario, pushing them up against a wall, slapping handcuffs on and reading their rights to. Kind of ruins any chance of a relationship.”

He paused and shook his head. “That last bit sounds dreadful if it were taken out of context.”

“I know what you mean.”

“The short story is, even if I’d had time for a relationship, no one would want me.”

Elle shook her head. How could anyone not like him? “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Uh huh.” He looked away.

Elle elbowed him until he looked at her. She ran her gaze over his figure slowly, running her tongue over her lips. “Seriously. You’re fit, good-looking, and talented. Plus you know how to give a girl a good time.”

Patrick scoffed. “We’re stuck in a lift.”

Elle nodded. “See, you defiantly know how to give someone a good time.”

He smiled slightly. “You’re silly. So, since we’re now on the subject of my job, let’s talk about you and the case for a bit. I’ve been trying to work out what this bloke has on you.”

“I don’t know. Does it matter?” she said. “I mean…at first I thought he wanted to expose I was Abbie’s mum, now I’m wondering if maybe he found out about Dad…” She took a deep breath. She couldn’t tell him, not yet. Not until she’d had chance to think it through. “Doesn’t matter. I just need to get out of here.”

 

****

 

Half an hour passed and the alarm finally fell silent. Elle kept her arms wrapped tightly around herself battling with the emotions and rising panic inside her. She was hot and couldn’t stop shaking. “They’re not coming.”

“They’ll come. Elle?”

“Patrick,” she replied in the same tone.

“Are you OK?”

“Yes, fine, never felt better.” She pushed her hands through her hair. Her chest tight and her throat raw, she looked around wildly.

“Talk to me.”

She shook her head. Jumping up, she started pacing. “I need to get out of here. There’s no room in here.”

Patrick stood. “It’s an eight person lift. Just sit down. It won’t be much longer. Look, I’ll call them again.”

“I can’t sit any longer. I can’t breathe in here. I have to get out.” She hit one hand on the elevator doors. “Help! Get us out of here!”

“We’re fine.” He moved over to her and put his hands on her arms. “Just take a deep breath. Come on, calm down. They’ll be here any minute.”

Elle pulled herself free. “I don’t want to calm down. I want out of here.” Banging on the doors again, she yelled, “Let me out!”

Patrick grabbed her wrists gently, maneuvering his body between her and the doors. “We’re fine. I’m here. You’re OK.”

Her breath came in gasps. “I can’t...do this...”

“Elle, look at me.”

She glanced at him, his eyes full of concern and worry and something else she couldn’t quite put a finger on. “I’m…looking…”

“Tell me about my daughter.” His hands were gentle on her arms and his intense gaze held hers fast.

“You just trying to take my mind off the fact we’re stuck.”

“Yep.” He grinned. “But I want to know everything.”

She took a deep breath. “I was sick for almost the whole pregnancy. Day and night…”

He pulled a face. “OK, not quite everything.” He slid down to the floor, wrapping an arm around her.

“She was born almost 9 months to the day after that night. I named her after you.”

“Her name’s Abbie.”

She glanced up at him, one brow was raised. “Actually it’s Patricia Abigail. As soon as she was born, Mum named her Abbie, but I registered her. Figured if she was used to Abbie all well and good, but it would be her middle name. And yes, you are named on the birth certificate as her father, but Mum insisted on saying she was theirs. I wasn’t happy about it, but the only other choice they gave me was giving her away and I wasn’t about to do that.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. But this way I got to be around for her all the time. We moved a few times. No, make that a lot. We moved every couple of years or so, never having our own place, always renting. Then Dad died and since Mum had no marketable skills, I had to work all hours to support them. No boyfriends, no dates. Pretty boring life really.”

“What about Abbie? Does she know?” His hand moved gently over her arm, his light touch keeping her grounded.

“No” She smiled wryly. “It’s kind of ironic in a way. I kept from her the very thing that had been kept from me.”

“Did they adopt her as they were insisting she was theirs?”

“They wanted to. But no, they didn’t. I refused to sign the papers. I still have them. I never showed them the birth certificate, so they never knew who her father was and I wasn’t going to tell them.”

“Do you know where the certificates are?”

She nodded. “Yeah, why?”

“Just a hunch. Soon as we can I want to go to your place and find them.”

She shivered, the panic surfacing again. “If you figured it out, maybe someone else has. Maybe…maybe…I need to be with her. She’s alone out there.”

“Shay is with her.” His hand cradled her face. “Elle, stay with me.”

“Patrick, I can’t breathe.” She was terrified, filled with the need to get out.

“Yes, you can. You can talk therefore, you can breathe.”

“No...” She shook her head, rocking now as he wouldn’t let her pace.

“Yes, you can. Look at me.”

She opened her eyes. “No.”

“No, you can’t look at me? You just did.”

“I—”

“Now breathe with me. In...out...in...out...”

She struggled to inhale, wanting to please him as much as she wanted out of the tiny space. The walls were closing in, but she kept her gaze on his, trying to breathe with him.

“That’s better. We’ll get out of here in a few.” Patrick kissed her forehead, slowly working his way down to her mouth, his lips warm against her cold skin. He looked at her, gazing deeply into her eyes. “You’re beautiful.” His lips touched hers again as he pulled her gently towards him.

She slid her hand around his neck and kissed him again, finding his lips soft and warm and responsive.

He pulled her closer, his body firm and safe.

When his mouth touched hers, nothing mattered apart from him. She kissed him back, no longer afraid.

Patrick broke off as something hit the roof and the escape hatch opened. He looked up into the flashlight, shielding his eyes against the brightness. “Hello?”

“Fire brigade. Is everyone all right?”

Patrick grinned. “We’re fine, Jared. Glad to see you guys though.”

Elle straightened up, breathless but for the right reasons. “
Jared
? Do you know the entire fire department by name?”

“Only one. Jared is my brother-in-law. It’s always nice when family comes to the rescue.”

A firefighter in full gear, dropped down to them. He moved over to Patrick and hugged him. “Though rescuing my own family is beginning to become a habit I’d rather ditch. Are you both sure you’re OK?”

“I love it when family drop in for a visit.” Patrick returned the hug. “We’re fine, Jared, but definitely ready to get out of here. Elle didn’t like lifts before we got stuck in one.”

Jared smiled and held up the harnesses. “We’ll strap you in and take you up through the shaft to the next floor.”

Elle shook her head, liking that idea even less. “I don’t think so. Can’t you just pry open the doors?”

Jared shook his head. “The lift is stuck mid-way between two floors. Until we know why the cable failed, we can’t risk taking the lift up or down the shaft.”

Patrick rubbed her arm. “You
can
do this, Elle. It’s either that or you stay in here, and we both know that’s not an option.”

Elle shivered, trying not to flinch as they attached the harness to her.

BOOK: Friday's Child
2.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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