Chapter Nine
Paige awoke with a start, disoriented at first by the unfamiliar sensations
all around her. A musty smell filled the air, causing her nose to wrinkle.
A light glowed dimly overhead. She never slept with a light on. Something
warm and solid was lying beside her, and a heavy weight trapped her to the
mattress. Where was she. . .?
Oh God, she was cuddled up against Walter. They must have fallen asleep.
After their earlier conversation had waned, they had both sat quietly, with
her fretting over their situation. She had some idea of what he had been
thinking, due to his quiet murmuring and head shakes, no doubt plotting and
calculating odds.
She moved carefully so she could look at him. Walter was resting on his stomach,
and it was his right arm which held her in place. She had never seen him
asleep before, she realized, except for the drug-induced state he had been
in at the hospital after his accident. He was always working, always thinking,
never stopping until the job was done and everyone was safe.
He looked younger, with his eyes closed and his face still. His lashes were
long, a fact which made her envious, considering the small fortune she had
spent on mascara since middle school. His mouth was slack, except for a faint
frown. The scar on the left side of his chin stood out in the midst of his
stubble. She wondered how he had acquired it, had wondered since the first
day she had met him. There was a story behind the thin line which intersected
his lips.
Resisting the urge to trace it with her fingers, Paige decided to get up,
which proved difficult as Walter's arm was like a dead weight. She managed
to moved it downward a few inches, and his hand came in contact with her
hip.
His eyes popped open, looking as confused as she had felt when she had awakened
moments earlier. "Hello." she greeted him.
"Hello." He rubbed his left hand over his face and up into his curls. His
other hand slid upward to her waist then to her back. She shivered as a jolt
of desire shot through her. Then his touch disappeared as he raised up on
his elbow. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. . .I didn't. . ."
‘It's okay, Walter," she said, still trembling from the accidental contact.
If she was affected this much by him with all her clothes on, how intense
would it be if they were. . .less clothed? Her face began to burn at the
thought.
"Paige?" She lifted her eyes to look at his. His cheeks were as red as hers
felt and she knew he was wondering the same thing. Nervously, she licked
her lips, imagining his touching them. And then she didn't have to imagine
it.
Walter kissed her tentatively at first, his confidence growing along with
the intensity with every passing second as she slipped her arms behind his
neck, her fingers in his hair.
Their tongues entwined as Paige pressed herself against him. He put his hand
on her back, sliding it downward. . .
The sound of footsteps coming down the hall didn't register at first, but
Walter heard them when Paige abruptly pulled away. "Someone's coming," she
whispered unnecessarily as they both sat up.
"We need to pretend we're still restrained," he murmured. Paige tossed the
blanket over their legs, hoping it would conceal the fact their ankles were
unbound. She then put her arms behind her back as the key was twisted in
the lock.
Three of their captors entered the room, two male, one female. They all carried
weapons, the two men had their rifles against their shoulders, aimed in their
direction. The woman, who was in her late forties or early fifties, set down
a bottle of water and a white plastic bucket next to the mattress.
"You have half an hour," she said as she and the others started back out
of the room.
"To do what?" asked Paige.
"To use the bucket." The woman held out a roll of toilet paper.
"Oh, God," Paige said. "But we're tied up."
"You'll get have to help each other out," said one of the men, who along
with the other man, started chuckling crudely.
"That's enough," the woman admonished before tipping her head toward Paige
and Walter. "Half an hour." She and the men stepped out into the hall, shutting
the door and turning the key in the lock.
"I can turn my back if you want to go first," Walter offered gallantly.
"I don't want to use it at all." But her bladder had the final say in the
matter. "Ugh. Turn around. Plug your ears."
"What?"
"Plug your ears. Please, just do it."
"Okay." He laughed as he did as she instructed.
After she was done, she stared in the opposite direction as Walter took care
of his business. After he signaled he was finished, Paige glanced over at
the floor around the bucket. Not a drop. She giggled to herself.
"Why are you laughing?" he asked.
"It's nothing." When he gave her a look which said he didn't believe her,
she said, "You wouldn't understand. It's nothing you did, trust me."
With a shrug, Walter picked up the water bottle. "We'll have to ration this."
He handed it to Paige.
"I wonder why they even bothered," she said as she stared at it.
"They don't want us to die too soon," he said matter-of-factly.
"Oh, God." His words reminded her of their dire situation. Her knees felt
shaky and she dropped the bottle. As she took a deep breath, his hands touched
her shoulders and pulled her forward. Paige glanced up as Walter gingerly
slid his arms around her before clumsily patting her back. The endearingly
awkward embrace caused a dam to break inside her, and she sobbed softly on
his shoulder.
"Paige, I-I'm sorry," he stammered. "I sh-shouldn't have said. . ."
"No, it's okay," she said, wiping her face. "I mean it's not okay, but it's
not your fault." She drew a ragged breath. "I keep thinking about Ralph.
. . And how I'll never. . .see. . ."
Walter's chest hurt at the thought of never seeing the boy he had come to
think of as his own again. Closing his eyes, he tried to come to terms with
that reality and failed. He held her tightly for a moment, overwhelmed by
an aberrant need to comfort her, then let go, bending down to pick up the
bottle of water.
"I'm. . .I'm not thirsty now," she said when he offered it to her. He knew
she was lying, knew she wouldn't drink unless he did.
"Okay." He sat down on the mattress and she followed. "They'll be back soon,"
he said.
Paige nodded as she laid her head on his shoulder. Seeing the worry and fear
in her eyes, he lightly skimmed his fingers down her arm, then reached for
her hand. She lifted her head to look at him and smiled. A smile which did
funny things to his insides. But then it had since that first day at the
diner. He envied her ability to make people comfortable and content, something
he had never been able to accomplish.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching the room.
He straightened, tucking his hands behind his back, noting Paige did the
same.
The key turned in the lock, and the door opened. The same woman stepped inside,
this time pointing a weapon at them. "Pick it up," she ordered one of the
two men who had accompanied her, indicating the bucket and paper. The man
didn't look thrilled but did as he was told. The trio started to back out.
"Wait," said Paige. The woman and the other man both swung their rifles at
her. "What time is it?" the liaison asked.
The woman hesitated for a moment, then consulted her watch. "Almost nine."
"Thank you," Paige whispered.
The woman bobbed her head before she and the others left, closing the door
and twisting the key, locking them in once again.