by Molly McLain
“You know, midnight is right around the corner…” she says, drawing my eyes back to her. She quirks an eyebrow. “And I came with no one to kiss.”
My eyes widen unintentionally and a smile grows on my face. “I just can’t. It’d be unprofessional.” I look at her and she’s straightened a little. I continue, “Not that I don’t want to.”
She smiles and leans back in. “Who said I was asking?” My eyes go wide, embarrassed by my presumption, but she continues, “So, if you wanna kiss me, why don’t you?”
“We work for you. It just wouldn’t be right.” My eyes drift to Tito and Brad again who are quickly becoming a part of the party and I let out a heavy sigh. I look back at Savannah.
“Then you’re fired. And I’m so damn serious.” She giggles. “Now will you kiss me?” she asks, a nervousness in her tone that hasn’t been there all night.
“You drive a hard bargain.” I grin, motioning to the packed room. “But either way it would be unprofessional. And besides you’ve been drinking and I haven’t. I feel like that would be taking advantage.” She looks around, her bottom lip slipping between her teeth and a mischievous look in her eye. I can’t help but look back toward my team, who have obviously taken my own transgressions as the okay to let down all guards. My eyes then roam the busy room of fucked up people celebrating the end of another year… and the beginning of a new one. Even Ed, the older gentleman, so sophisticated before, is getting down and dirty on the dance floor and has quickly become the star of the show.
By the time my eyes land back on Savannah, she inches closer and curls a finger inward. I lean in a little and she whispers, “I may be buzzed, but I’ve wanted those lips since I interviewed you. You didn’t think I hired you for your conversation skills, now did you?” she asks, poking a tongue out at me.
“And here I was thinking it was my impeccable work history,” I respond, most definitely trying to sway the conversation. I will only be able to say no for so long.
“Mr. Stockwell, stop stalling. Midnight is just around the corner.” She glances toward the exit and then back at me. “Take me to the roof. My friends will be fine…” She draws a breath and then continues. “We can watch the fireworks from up there. And I can get my New Year’s kiss.”
I lean back and shrug, shaking my head. “So, funny story… I’m kind of afraid of heights,” I say, regretting my words as soon as they’re said.
“Wait, weren’t you some kind of hardcore Army guy jumping out of planes and shit?” she asks.
“Yeah, I did all that stuff without a problem. This is kind of a new thing from my last deployment,” I say, timidly, as my eyes leave hers. My thoughts stray to Rocco falling, fear etched on his face as he plummeted from the chopper door to the earth below, his screams echoing until they just… stopped.
“You know what…” I say, not giving her time to respond. “Screw it. We’re almost out of time. Grab your sis for the bathroom. I’ll let Tito and Brad know I’ll be watching you guys. We’ll head up to the roof and you let her know to go back in without us,” I say, grinning something stupid.
“Wait, are you sure? We can always go outside. I just imagine it might be pretty crazy out there right about now.”
“I’m positive. The only problem is, I’m pretty certain there’s no roof access here.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, putting a hand to my sleeve again. “We’ll make access.”
“Roger that. Well get on it,” I say, grinning.
She salutes so awful it’s cute and winks at me before heading toward her friends, the moon shining brightly through the massive windows. Fireworks are just minutes away from filling the room through those very windows with a brilliant combination of colors.
And I will be up top, kissing Savannah fucking Jordan.
At the beginning of the night that would’ve meant little. Right about now it’s sounding like the absolute best ending to the evening. Yes, the job is exciting sometimes, yes, the money’s good, but what’s all that without someone to share it with at the end of the day?
I find myself standing before Tito and Brad, my hands in my pockets and eyes scanning the dance floor as an announcer takes the mic as he calls out ten minutes until midnight.
“Soooo, we’re kinda fired,” I say, my eyes meeting them as people push in around us to fill the space in front of the massive windows.
“Wait, what?!” Brad asks, a startled look on his face. “What the hell did you do?”
Tito just grins from ear to ear. “Does that mean we can start drinking?” he asks.
“No!” I plead. “Relax. Enjoy yourselves, but let's save the drinking for after, okay?”
“You gonna tell us what happened?” Brad asks, a shit eating grin on his face that tells me he's starting to put two and two together.
“Later, alright?” I ask, shooting him a quick wink.
“Alright, brother,” Brad says and I shake hands with both of them before departing.
When I turn back around to search for Savannah, I find the crowd around me has grown thick, all waiting in loud anticipation for the oncoming fireworks. Some I recognize as her friends, but they're spread out among everyone else. I eventually spot Vanessa and make a beeline toward her.
“Hey, Vanessa, where's Savannah?” I ask, pulling her attention from a few friends beside her.
“She just went upstairs to the room really quick. Matty came and got her.”
“What? Why?” I ask.
“He was freaking out, talking about needing to speak with her right away... in private. Something about Travis,” she says, her brow wrinkling. “Shit, sorry, Jason, I thought it'd be alright.”
“I mean, I don't see why it wouldn't be."
“Do you wanna check the room. Just to make sure?” she asks, motioning toward the exit.
“Yeah, that might be best,” I respond.
She pushes through the growing crowd without another word and I follow after her. Once we reach the doors, leading to a row of elevators, three on either side, she quickly pushes the button to go up. As she does, a man in a disheveled tuxedo comes racing around the corner, grabbing her by the arm. She turns quickly, a look of shock growing on her face.
“Travis, what the hell are you doing here?” she asks, taking a few steps back through the opening elevator doors. I put an arm up to keep them open, my eyes locked on his.
“Vanessa, cut the shit, where is Savannah?” he asks as sweat drips down his forehead. “Please, Vanessa.”
“Travis, just leave her alone already. It's getting old,” she says.
“You don't understand. Matty is not right, Vanessa. Is he with her?" he asks.
“What are you talking about?”
“There's no time, Vanessa. He's on something. He's fucked up and he wants to hurt her. You have to listen to me,” Travis pleads, reaching into his pocket, which quickly gets my forearm against his throat, his back pushed up against the elevator doorframe.
“Look,” he forces out through a gag, his eyes dropping down. “Look.”
My gaze drops and I see a wad of bloody napkins clutched in his hand. I lessen the force against his throat.
“He attacked me. Just now out in the fucking alley.” His eyes dart to Vanessa. “You all think it's been me breaking into her place? You think I killed her fucking dog? You had it wrong from the get go, Vanessa,” he screams. “You had it all wrong. He fucking admitted it to me and now what? He's alone with her?”
I look to Vanessa, waiting to see what she wants me to do, but she looks clueless.
“Vanessa, please, if she's with him, we need to intervene. And we need to intervene now," he says, a sincerity to his tone that makes me believe him. I let him go and take a step back.
“He's not in his right mind,” he continues. I wait for Vanessa to say something, but she remains motionless, analyzing Travis. She finally turns to me and nods and the two of us step cautiously in the elevator with her.
“Why should I believe
you, Travis?” Vanessa asks, a hand meeting her hip, doubt in her eyes as the elevator doors close.
“Look.” He holds his phone out for her and she reluctantly takes it.
Her eyes narrow on the screen as she reads, her lips moving along with the words.
“It's from the last girl he dated. She sent screenshots and everything. He's obsessed with Savannah in a real bad fucking way."
The elevator dings and the doors open for the eleventh floor… Savannah's floor. Vanessa hands the phone back to Travis as the three of us exit. She shakes her head, doubt in her eyes.
“We've known Matty forever though. He's weird or whatever, yeah... but what the fuck is that shit?”
“I don’t know. That's what I'm trying to tell you. I never noticed either. But after he came back from saying hi to Savannah tonight he was livid. Going off about some new guy she's seeing.” He motions to me as we continue down the long corridor. “I guess that’d be this guy.”
“I'm her security,” I mutter, radioing Tito and Brad to advise them to keep their eyes open.
“Yeah, well, he didn't seem to think so,” he says as Vanessa points to a door to our right.
“This is it,” she says. “Want me to try my key?”
“Yes, please,” I respond and she pulls the key from her clutch and slips it in the key slot. A little light flashes green and she pushes against the door, but it budges only a bit as if something is blocking it.
“Help me!” Savannah's voice calls out before it's stifled quickly. A loud crash erupts from the room. Vanessa's face twists in horror.
“Oh my God, Savannah. Oh my God!” she screams, beating at the door with her fists.
She turns, tears streaming down her face.
“Jason, please help. Please.”
I turn to Travis, motioning to the phone still clutched in his hand. “Can you call 911?” I ask him and he nods, quickly obliging.
“You guys, please try and talk some sense into this guy. I'll be right back.”
“Where are you going?” Vanessa asks, her palms flat against the door.
“I'll be right back, just please, do what I say.” I point to the door, which is still cracked. “Talk to him.”
She nods and puts her lips to the crack. “Matty, please, please open the door,” she pleads as I walk a few steps to the next door down and quietly knock. It takes a few times, but eventually an old man in a robe answers.
“Can I help you?” he asks, eyeing me warily.
“Sir, I'm so sorry to bother you. We have an incident next door and I am security for an individual involved. If you wouldn't mind, I'd really like to get out on your balcony," I say.
He leans out the door and looks down the hall to Travis and Vanessa who continue pleading with Matty through the crack in the door. He looks back at me and nods, motioning for me to enter. I follow him in, the door closing behind us.
“Frankie, did you tell them to bug off? Momma wants to play,” a seductive voice carries from the open bathroom.
“Just a second, my dear,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.
“Fiftieth wedding anniversary,” he whispers, wiggling his caterpillar brows.
“Well shit, I'm even more sorry for the disruption then, sir. I promise to make it quick,” I say as we make our way to the large sliding glass doors leading to the balcony.
“You're okay, sonny. I gotta wait for the Viagra to kick in anyways,” he cackles, tries to quiet it, and ends up coughing as he shuffles to the couch and takes a seat.
I slide the balcony door open carefully, the sight of what's beyond the railing forcing my stomach into circles. I take a step out, my eyes closing, and I swallow hard. My heart pounds inside my ribcage. Quick, errant breaths enter and escape my lungs.
I take another step, completely outside now and my eyes slant open just a bit. The flurry of Vegas lights all run together through tunnel vision. I swipe at the railing, gripping it tightly, keeping my sight line straight ahead and not daring to look down.
As if I weren’t freaking enough, the fireworks start abruptly from the other side of the hotel. Loud spontaneous explosions and the smell of gun powder fills the air. If I closed my eyes it'd be just like I were back in Iraq or Afghanistan. To keep them open is a haunting reminder that I am eleven stories up and it's a long way to the pavement.
Curiosity piques and I take a glance down. The nausea is instant. And I see him, like I always do, reaching out for me to help, sheer panic in his eyes, and I reach back, but it's pointless. He was gone the moment he was thrown from the chopper.
I close my eyes tightly, forcing the thoughts away. I take a deep breath and keep my focus on Savannah. Savannah is alive. Savannah can be helped. But who knows for how long.
Willing my eyes back open, I let the air out of my lungs in a long exhale and then I work a leg up onto the railing. I then heave myself up until I'm standing on it. A hand claws at the hotel exterior though it will do me no good. The balcony next door, Savannah's balcony, is only a foot and a half away max, but it might as well be the Grand fucking Canyon when I look down. I shake my head, looking up to the stars and wondering how the fuck I got here.
My heart beats so hard I can hear it. A numbness overwhelms me that I worry may never get me from this railing and over to the next. But with one long step, and what is likely vomit stirring in my gut, I'm on the other balcony railing safely and I sigh with relief. I clamber off the railing onto Savannah’s balcony, careful to keep myself away from the glass doors and out of view. I can hear Vanessa and Travis banging against the room door all the way from here and through the brashness of the fireworks, which tells me I should probably act quickly. I first slip a hand to the handle and give a careful nudge, just to see if it's locked. If it is, my plan goes to shit quickly. To my benefit, and Savannah’s, it isn’t, and the door moves ever so slightly.
I peek around the glass door until I see Savannah. She’s seated in the desk chair and has sheets restraining her. Her eyes are black and blue. I peer further and see Matty, in only his tux pants and beater now, as he slams the door back closed, standing atop the couch he has blocking it. I pull back around to the wall and shut my eyes, seeing the room in my mind, and planning exactly how I'll execute this. Anybody crazy enough to take someone captive in a hotel room, which is essentially a death wish, is going to have a weapon, and the last thing I want, the last thing I could live with, is causing Savannah’s death. In the same breath, I don't want to have to kill Matty. I've done enough of that in my life. If I don't have to, I don't want to. So my best bet is to surprise him. I need to catch him with his back to me. I'd only have a second or two before the opening doors pull his attention.
As an idea develops, I dig a hand into my pocket and pull out my cell phone, dialing Vanessa's number. After a few rings, she picks up.
“Vanessa,” I whisper into the phone. “I need you to make as much noise as possible. Open the front door back up and keep it open. Put all your weight against it. I need you to get him over to that door, you hear me?”
“Okay,” she responds, her voice shaking.
I hang up and pocket my cell phone just as I hear them comply, relentlessly banging against the room door. I peek back around the corner and see him standing before Savannah, a gun in his hand, but his focus is on the door now. Just as I had hoped, he slips the revolver into his waistband and crosses the room to the door.
“Get the fuck away! You can't stop this!” I hear him yell as he climbs back up on the couch and pushes his weight against the door. It's time. I thrust the sliding glass door open, drawing Savannah's attention first, then, as I cross the room swiftly, Matty looks back, his eyes bugging out when he sees me. He reaches his hand back to retrieve the revolver just as I leap toward him, up and onto the couch. He manages to remove the gun from his waistband just as I wrap my arms around him, pinning his own arms to his side. He fires three shots, the bullets shattering the balcony doors.
Face to face, I can see the madness in h
is eyes. “On something” is an understatement. This guy’s eyes are rolling in the back of his fucking head. He fires two more shots, which are equally ineffective since his entire body is still in a bear hug. I pull my head back and with one fluid motion connect my forehead to the bridge of his nose with a loud thud. I do it three more times in quick succession before his head slumps to the couch cushion, eyelids fluttering. I release him and quickly pull the gun from his hands. I lift him completely as his eyes start to open, and I throw him to the ground as hard as I can. He crashes to the floor with a groan and curls up into a ball. I grab the rope holding the curtains back and use it to tie his limp hands behind his back.
With him restrained, I pull a combat knife from my belt and cut Savannah free from the sheets. She stands quickly, wrapping her arms around my neck and squeezing me.
“Thank you,” she breathes into my chest. “Thank you.”
Chapter 5
There’s a relieved silence between Brad, Tito and I as we sit on the curb, our jackets off and sleeves rolled. Midnight has long since passed and given way to early morning, and the slew of medical and police personnel that have kept us here for hours has finally started to withdraw. Savannah and Vanessa stand in front of the hotel, still speaking with two detectives as a group of her friends mingle around them. She continues to glance at me and I continue to smile back. I want nothing more than for this circus to be over, so I can make sure she’s truly okay. So I can hug her and let her know I’ve got her back. Like it or not, she can’t fire me because I can’t stand the thought of something like this happening again.
“Hey, boss, heads-up,” Tito says, tapping me on the shoulder. He points and I look to see Savannah approaching us. She brushes off the EMT waiting to transport her to the hospital and her sister joins their group of friends, curiously peering back at her.
“Hey, Tito, that bush over there looks just like a dick. Wanna beat it off?” Brad asks, standing.
“I’ll be damned, it’s got a head and everything. Shit yeah!” Tito exclaims, childlike, as he stands himself. He glances back down at me.
