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Don’t go Little.
Don’t go Little.
It was so hard not to, though. Sometimes, Reuben gave off a Daddy vibe that was difficult to resist.
“You’ll be safe with me, Little Blossom,” he told her. “Now, be a good girl and take my hand.”
Her hand was in his before she could think it through. He led her into his office and over to the sofa.
“Shouldn’t we go home?” Although the idea of taking the bus home in a storm was kind of terrifying.
“The elevator will be out of service and it’s thirty stories up. It wouldn’t be safe to navigate all those stairs in the dark.”
She guessed not.
“What do we do?” she asked.
“We wait for the power to come back on. Don’t worry, the fireplace is gas and doesn’t have an electric ignition.” He started it, and it immediately added light to the room.
“I’m going to find some torches. Stay here.” He moved away.
She followed him.
Turning, he looked down at her. “What are you doing?”
“Following you.”
“Didn’t I tell you to stay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m not doing that. It’s always the person who stays behind that gets attacked.”
“Attacked by who?”
“I don’t know. It might not be who. It might be what.” Yes, she sounded like a crazy person. But that was her theory, and she was sticking to it.
Instead of telling her she was an idiot, though, he simply nodded and wrapped his hand around hers.
Shock held her tongue still as he led her out to the kitchen. There, he found a battery-powered flashlight.
That was strange. Faith thought she’d looked in every cupboard, but she couldn’t recall seeing this lantern.
He turned it on, and it cast off a lot of light.
Taking her hand, he led her back through to her office.
“I’ll just get my phone,” she murmured, grabbing it. After settling back on the sofa in his office, she sent a quick text to Cammie, letting her know where she was.
There was no reply. She hoped her friend was all right.
Reuben grabbed his laptop, and to her surprise, he sat in an armchair next to the sofa.
Faith played a game on her phone for a while, not knowing what else to do. But as the sky darkened, her fear grew, and she knew she had to distract herself.
“What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?” she asked him.
Reuben frowned, glancing over at her. “Why would you want to know that?”
“I’m asking you questions to get to know you. Things that might take my mind off freaking out and becoming hysterical. Okay? So just tell me. What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?”
