Free That Guy (An Indecent Proposal Book 1) by J.C. Reed, Jackie Steele Page B

breath, I
strained to listen. The line remained dead. No voice, no white noise, nothing
to indicate anyone had been alerted to our situation.
    My heart began to thump hard against my ribcage, and a thin
rivulet of sweat rolled down my back as realization kicked in that it might
take a while before someone was alerted.
    “Can you try again?” My voice came so thin and raspy, I knew
I was close to having a panic attack.
    “No point. Phone’s not working. Reception’s gone. We’re
stuck,” the guy said, almost bored. No panic. No whining. Just cool composure
with a hint of an annoyance, as if the entire situation was a mere
inconvenience he experienced on a regular basis. Unlike me, he seemed to
breathe just fine.
    He sighed. “Let’s hope they won’t close off the elevator
area for the rest of the day,” he said to himself with…humor?
    I swallowed hard.
    If that was true, and we ended up stuck in there all day,
we’d never last. We’d run out of oxygen and—
    Come to think of it, didn’t I read somewhere that people
could die within two hours when stuck in a confined space? And hadn’t we
already been stuck for some time?
    A sense of foreboding settled in the pit of my stomach.
    Something was wrong. Very wrong. I could feel it in the
oppressive silence and the fact that the stranger had stopped pressing buttons
and rummaging through his pockets. The air was getting increasingly hot, making
it hard to breathe. The rivulet turned into a layer of sweat covering my entire
back as I tried to force oxygen into my lungs.
    In that moment, a loud thud reverberated from the walls,
followed by a short, faint shrill.
    An alarm?
    Oh, my god.
    This wasn’t some technical glitch. It was a real-life emergency.
Something had happened. Something really bad. Faintly, I could hear hurried
steps, some of them pounding, but none of them seemed to stop near the
elevators. Everyone would forget about the two people stuck in the elevator,
because they had more pressing issues to attend to—like saving
themselves. The alarm continued to blare in the distance.
    To my utter shock, a whimper escaped my throat as fear
consumed me.
    “Oh, God.” My voice came high-pitched, reflecting the dark
thought that kept circling in my mind.
    I’m going to die.
    The thought hit me so hard a wave of dizziness rushed over
me. But, at twenty-two, I was too young for my demise, particularly because I
hadn’t even started to live my life yet. I had struggled through college while
amassing a vast student loan debt that had kept me strapped for cash for years.
    How ironic would it be if the one job I had thought would be
the answer to my prayers might just kill me?
    The thought of being stuck in a confined space, missing the
most important interview of my life while dying from oxygen depletion, was too
much. Suddenly, my breathing quickened, and my pulse began to race hard and
fast.
    I realized the whizzing sound echoing in my ears wasn’t a
result of my frayed nerves but a noise coming out of my mouth.
    “I think I’m having a panic attack,” I whispered.
    “We’ll be all right,” the guy said, and this time I noticed
how smooth and deep his voice was.
    Sexy, with the slightest hint of a rumble to it.
    Maybe my other senses were sharpened in the darkness, or we
were indeed running out of oxygen and my brain was slowly starting to play
tricks on me, but in the confined space I could smell him clearly. Not just his
aftershave, but him —the man who
couldn’t see me. The only person who would witness my untimely death.
    “I’m not sure.” I choked on my voice. “What if no one
comes?”
    “What’s your name?” Sexy Voice said.
    “Lauren, but everyone calls me Laurie,” I whispered.
    Something warm brushed my shoulder, instantly raising goose
bumps across my arm, and trailed down my arm until it touched my hand. Strong
fingers clasped around my hand and squeezed, not hard enough to hurt me, but
the motion helped me regain some of my