Heart

Twenty-Three

Alan lurched forward, squashing me flat against the wall. He spread his hands out so he could get as close as possible. Our torsos were pressed squarely against each other, so that I could feel the contours of his hard-muscled abdomen and chest. We were on the hinge side of the door, so when it opened, it swung in our direction, hiding us in the tight little corner. I held my breath, trying not to get lost in the tantalizing smell of Alan’s cologne.

Feet crunched on the little glass shards and rubble on the other side of the door. I bit my lip hard and closed my eyes, trying to push away the fear. Only an old, corroded slab separated us from the corrupted detective.

The footsteps continued forward, entering the room. I breathed heavily, but quietly, as I peered out from under Alan’s arm. The door still blocked the guy from my view, though I knew he was only a couple of feet away from our hiding place.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Novak hissed. I heard him walk a little more.

I suddenly remembered my phone, and slowly tried wiggle my hand down into my pocket. Alan’s gaze snapped down to my face, giving me a what-the-heck-are-you-doing look. I ignored it, fishing around until I finally got a good grip; then I pulled it out and found my video. Like I had when I was at the staircase, I cautiously inched the phone out from behind the door so it could be my eyes.

On the screen, I could see Novak in the middle of the room, his back to us. His hands were on his hips and his feet were spread apart, which told me he was sure of himself. Slowly, always slowly, he twisted around at the waist, giving me a straight-on view of his face on the screen. I winced, praying he wouldn’t see the phone . . .

He seemed to stare for the longest time, but then he jerked his head to the side and scowled. I followed his gaze and saw that there was a hallway, most likely leading to a bedroom. I swiveled the phone back over to Novak to record his little smirk-like smile and then kept with him as he started forward. He stepped carefully so that his feet barely made a sound; he must think we were hiding out down there--which was great news for us.

I taped him until he disappeared from view down the hall.

“He went to the bedroom,” I mouthed to Alan, bringing my phone back to press pause.

He nodded once, and then glanced over his shoulder. His chest rose and fell as he let out a breath. He turned back to me, a serious intensity in his eyes. “Stick to me like glue,” he growled.

Then, before I could react, he grabbed my hand and knocked the door out of our way, skirting around it. He tossed me out into the hallway and then turned back to the entrance, slamming it shut. He leaned heavily against it while he fiddled with his belt, jerking it out from its loops.

Suddenly, a yell erupted from the inside of the room, followed by a violent ram that shook the door in its frame. I jumped in alarm, fearing for Alan, but he managed to keep it closed.

“Kara, get over here!” he ordered, pushing against Novak’s struggles to get free.

I gulped and leaped to his side, waiting for instructions. He thrust his belt in my hands, while yet another ram threatened to splinter the frame. Alan barked through clenched teeth, “Tie the knob to that light up there!”

With trembling hands, I clumsily wrapped one end of the belt around the handle and then stretched it up to get the other end around a light that was sticking out of the wall. I pulled the belt as taunt as it could manage and then jerked the knot tight. Alan snatched my arm and pulled me with him as he backed up, keeping a wary eye on the door. Novak slammed against it again, and it opened just a crack, but the belt kept him from escaping. He yelled in anger.