In His Arms

Chapter 14

To think the night has turned out this way just because I overheard his phone call is absurd. To feel this afraid of someone whom I've come to see as a distant friend in the last three weeks is just ridiculous. To realise at this moment that I just mentally begged him not to kill me is a revelation that my past is still very much with me no matter how far I run away from it.

"Ms Summers before you jump to wild conclusions, " Mr Holt states monotonously, seeing right through my second thought process. "I suggest you come back to the suite to hear our explanation."

The tears that have been trickling down my cheeks drip onto the collar of my shirt, making small dark grey coloured circles appear meeting his dark grey eyes, I decide to hear his explanation. Following him as he tucks the revolver into the back of his sweatpants so that it's between his underwear and the waistband.

Eyeing the weapon, my fingers itch to just reach out to take it but I don't. The consequences of doing something like that outweigh the want to do it. Opening the door to the hotel room, I cautiously walk in after him, my heart pounds in my ears as we enter the other part of the 'room' where I had seen him pull the revolver out.

"Janette," Mr King greets me, smiling broadly. "I had no idea you were in the room because if I had known I would never have put on Reservoir Dogs."

His hand gestures towards the TV where the torture scene from the movie plays. Turning away immediately when I see the gasoline being poured on the guy with no ear, my mind matches the pleads and groans of pain from the earless guy with the man's voice before Mr Holt pulled out the revolver.

Hey! Aren't you forgetting something? My subconscious snarks, her hands on her hips. He shot two rounds remember?

Looking down at the carpeted floor, I see two shallow holes in the floor. Squatting down to touch the holes, I look at Mr Holt who stands behind me with his arms crossed over his chest for an explanation.

"Did you just touch the fucking spider's body, Janie?" Lucas whimpers, pulling his legs onto the couch cushions, eyeing the two holes suspiciously. "I don't even think he got it..."

Standing up, I turn to Mr Holt, asking disbelievingly, "Are you telling me you drew out a gun to kill a spider?"

Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, Mr Holt responds, "Lucas tossed me the gun to kill the bug. The big buffalo's terrified of them. I did ask him to pass me one of the work files but he was too terrified to even reach over to the coffee table to get them."

I can't find an argument to prove his statement wrong. Knowing Lucas has arachnophobia is something of a family joke...not that I want to prove him wrong; I just find this version of what could have happened so unlikely.

Take what you have. It's better to not question the answers given to you, my inner incubus who has been silent for about three weeks coaxes, eyeing the men in the room suspiciously from the back of my eyes. Let them tell you the truth when they feel like it. There's no need to complicate things when it's just your childhood paranoia acting up again.

She has a point you know, my subconscious suits, looking over at my inner incubus, nodding in approval of her statement.

I hate these guys... really, they always come up when I don't need them...and when I do they're nowhere to be found! Both of them are also trying to fly over the fact that these guys met up in a prestigious hotel in the middle of the night to watch a movie. How the heck does that even make sense? Whatsmore that phone call at the penthouse is starting to sound more suspicious...

"Ms Summers?" Mr Holt calls me, touching my forearm.

"What?" I murmur confusedly, looking around me to see that everyone is looking at me expectantly.