Page 19 of Hidden

Slip right out of the room.

I run and I don’t stop. The library blurs past. The elevator button is slammed before my brain catches up to my plan.

“Come on, come on.” I hike up my dress, the creepy library to my right. It’s really unnecessary for everything to be so gigantic.

The ding happens at the same time footsteps clack far down the hall. An echo. A whisper that finds me anyway.

I press myself against the edge of the elevator so if anyone does see me, well, they won’t. Just an empty ghost elevator. Which according to Callie happens all the time.

As the doors close, I can breathe but I don’t.

I can’t. Callie is witty, crazy. Obsessed with everything dark and rich with death. She’s been hurt. Lost far more than any person should.

This entire night went to shit far faster than I ever expected. The strange man offering Leif Viagra. To Leif and Enzo practically stalking me.

Okay and yes, my little diversion to the bathroom.

Maybe it’s just another Saturday night in Philadelphia. Maybe it’s something more.

I won’t know until I see Callie. And I need toseeher.

The elevator takes forever. Doing its little whoosh and I count the numbers. When it clears for her floor, I run out.

See, the Penn has hidden rooms. Obviously, it’s a museum. If it didn’t, I’d be worried. I’m worried anyway. Running across the room toward a hidden room I know is there. Callie knows is there. And I hope no one else does.

That is where she should be. Sitting behind her computers eating Twizzlers and getting Cheeto dust all over her.

I press the hidden button and don’t wait for the door to fully open before I push through. I peer in the security room and jiggle the handle.

Locked.

I look again, the little wires on the window obscuring my vision.

“It’s too dark.” And now I have that panic racing through me. The kind where you can see yourself doing dumb shit. You know you are about to do dumb shit and there’s no stopping yourself.

You just go all in.

Because I know somewhere deep inside me that Callie isn’t just fine. Not in danger but not fine either.

I grab a pole, one of the ones that section off exhibits, and hold it up. I’m going to break into the security room. Might get me arrested, might not.

“On the count of three.” I breathe. “One.” I hold it back ready to take out…

What? The reinforced window? No. The doorknob.

“Two.” Just do it, Hadley. Take out the doorknob.

“Whoa.” The door swings open and there he is.

“You owe me a Callie.” I swing for whoever made that sound.

“Fucking hell.” He doesn’t flinch. He ducks under the pole like he saw it coming before I did, strips it out of my hands, tosses it, and has me against the wall with a forearm across my collarbone before the pole finishes clattering.

No wasted motion. He’s done this before, done it to people who meant it more than I do. Then he looks at my face and something in him falters.

Rude as hell.

Rude because that is hot as hell and I don’t have time to dissect why that’s hot as hell right now but I’m pretty sure it’s because somewhere deep inside of me I became attracted to the psychos.