Inner Workings

Inner Workings - Part 40

"You're going to run down my battery," sighed Mary, huddling into the elevator corner as Ram held her iphone in every corner trying to get a signal. Old buildings meant retro architecture and retro phone signal unless you were next to a window. Or in the bathroom. Mary could use a bathroom right about now.

"Third times the charm," said Ram. The blue-tinged light from the screen made his eyes ache as he stared at the bars. None of them lit up.

Mary tugged at his jeans, the hems still damp. "If being stuck in an elevator in a storm is any indicator, we have no charm."

"I had enough to ask you out," he said with a smirk.

Mary's lips quirked to one side and she tugged his jeans again, bringing him down to sit next to her. They had arranged the luggage like cushions of a couch fort. Ram put his arm around Mary, tucking her and her nearly dry hair into his shoulder, and tapped off the iphone, dipping them both into darkness. She leaned into his side, taking solace in his warmth. But Ram's foot kept tapping the wall.

"You're still worried," said Mary, taking the phone back.

"Yeah." The foot tapping went faster. "I could check my phone again."

Mary slung her leg over his, stilling him from getting up again. "Worried about your parents, or worried they are worried about us?"

"Both."

Ram leaned his head against hers, foot still. She picked up her iphone again, clicking on the blue white light. She swiped through photos of them hiking along the forest, the food fight in the college cafeteria, Ram's presentation of a building, and a blurry picture of their first date; fuzzy and badly lit in a café in San Fran.

It wasn't the best of places to be, it wasn't romantic, and it wasn't anywhere near a bathroom. But what the hell.

"Ram, I want to ask you something."

***

Louis tried to swallow the copper taste in his mouth, the blood from his split lip dribbling down onto his shirt. He hadn't taken a punch and stayed quiet since boot camp. He wasn't about to start now.

"Black, two sugars," Louis mumbled, spitting more blood, and hoping it would land on Mr. Flannelled-and-wiry. For such a small man, his punches packed a whole lot of pain.

Louis got another punch, this one right below his ribs, knuckles bruising bone, if not breaking it. The breath was knocked out of him, burning spots in his already cloudy vision. Then his abuser lifted his jaw, trying to get Louis to look him in the eye.

"Feel like talking now?" the man said.

"'M talkin'," said Louis, biting his teeth around the words. "You're not listenin'. Black, two sugars."

Before Mr. Flannel could get another punch in, the door opened and he was called away. "Abe" stomped towards the barn door and slammed it shut behind him. Louis was alone, but no better. Louis drifted, senses feeling their way around his body.

Face a mess? Check. Hard to breathe? Check. Hand still hurting like a bitch?

He shifted his wrists against the rough rope and winced at the stabbing pain that went through his left hand. Fuck. Check.

Tired and aching, Louis let his eyes shut, only to jerk himself away from sleep.

"Why am I here?" Louis said to himself, more testing the limits of his beaten face and try to keep conscious. As long as he could talk he could stay awake. Sleeping equaled defeat. "Oh, I know. 'Cause I was an idiot and didn't call for backup before I went after a lead. Yeah, real smart. Bet that'll go down in my file as a dumb-ass move."