The Great Below

The Boss - Part 1

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Alex followed the hallway to the back staircase and descended another floor, ignoring the negligible weight of the girl in his arms. It was hard to believe that someone so slight had sabotaged him with a wet kitchen floor. He would be lucky if Nick spared the others the details of their embarrassing standoff on the balcony. Maybe Victor was right; maybe she was stronger than she looked.

By the time he reached the door to Dominic's private quarters, Alex was fighting a guilt that rose up his esophagus like nausea. He shifted Octavia over his shoulder while he found his key ring, then opened the door. The bed was only a few feet away and he could drop her quickly, gracelessly, and make a hasty exit. That would be the end of it.

Then he supposed that, if this were to be the last he saw of her, he owed her a little more kindness than that. He had never even seen a woman in their building before. She could be gone as soon as morning, and it had been stupid to fixate on her at the apartment. Don't name it, Nick always said, and it didn't matter if they were talking about a fly or a mouse or a target – the principle remained. Give it a name and it's all over.

Alex closed the door behind him, then laid her carefully on the covers. He considered Octavia's slack limbs and her peaceful face and her weirdly optimistic pink sweater. Dominic had never even said the words. Alex wanted to think that he was the sort of man who, if his boss had demanded he kidnap her, would have had the decency to refuse. He'd been tricked. Dominic had spun the idea into motion like a top, knowing there would be little option once the girl had seen them break into Victor's apartment.

Where she had to ice her hands. His eyes drifted to the damage there and then, despite himself, he looked at her. Really looked. At her skin, white like soft linen. Her eyelashes, powdery-black. The freckles. Her collarbone, prominent in a way that suggested she was under-nourished. It made him uncomfortable, but he longed to examine her further.

He brushed one fingertip along the delicate skin of her collarbone, wondering at her warmth and softness. He hooked it into the collar of that pink sweater and gently stretched it.

Bruises.

He let go. I could have set you free, he thought. But Nick would never have agreed to it. The guilty feeling kept climbing his throat until it had him by the mouth. Alex retrieved the pocket knife he kept clipped to his belt and sliced the bonds at her wrists and ankles. He supposed he owed her that much. He glanced down, clipping his pocket knife back into place.

Octavia's body jumped to life. He didn't know because he saw it, but because something crashed into his jaw and light exploded behind his eyelids. He turned away with a loud cry, rubbing at the side of his face. There was a surge of anger that he quickly swallowed, reminding himself that it was a woman who'd hit him, and a frightened one at that. When he recovered and looked down again, she was gone. Dominic's round, silver-rimmed alarm clock rolled across the covers. The bedroom door was still swinging on its hinges behind him.

"Wait!" he called, sprinting after her.

Alex ran to the stairwell door, flinging it open and taking the steps up two at a time. The girl glanced back at him from the landing at the turn, her hands tugging the railings. Alex imagined she wouldn't feel the pain in them right away. He pushed himself harder, feet pounding each stair, and at the next landing he tackled her against the concrete wall.

"I'll scream," she panted.

"It wouldn't do any good," Alex replied. Her eyes were so wide and her skin so flushed; he realized he'd better come up with something less ominous to say. "I mean, I'm not going to hurt you. So you don't have to scream."

She looked up, pinned between his outstretched arms. "Then why was I on a bed?"

"I...It wasn't my bed. I would never—"

She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him, and then her whole face abruptly softened. "You killed him," Octavia said. Her voice was reverent.

Alex frowned. "Who?"

"Victor. He was threatening your partner and you shot him. I wanted to thank you. I'm almost sorry I hit you." She snaked her arms around his waist and moved in close for a hug.

Alex was afraid to move, holding his breath. He asked himself how she knew to run upstairs, rather than down?

There was a familiar sound, and then his own pocket knife was being pointed at him. "I need you to show me the way out," she said. The hand holding the blade shook, thumb waxy-white.

"I don't think you understand," Alex replied. "I've been told to deliver you to that room. The man that room belongs to, he expects you to be there. You can stab me ten times and that won't change."

"Point, then. Just point and walk the other way."

"Calm down. We have to get back downstairs—"

She lunged, making an honest enough effort with the knife. Alex jumped back. She used the distance to bolt for the next flight of stairs.

Alex pumped his legs until he caught up, hooking one arm around her narrow waist. He pulled her off balance. Octavia brought her right hand down fast to steady herself on the rail, but instead she cracked the knife against it. It fell and bounced off one stair, then the one below it, and so on. Alex dragged her back to the landing.

"I can't stay here," she moaned, scratching at everything in reach but catching nothing of use. "I have to get out."

Alex spun her around and pushed his shoulder into her stomach. She bent unwillingly, but could finally be towed back to Dominic's room. He would have to come back for his knife.

It nagged at him that she already had a name, and that Nick was right. It was making everything so much worse.