by Ciana Stone
She waited as Morgan placed the call. “I wonder if anyone else reported it.” She said when he returned.
“I don’t think so.”
“Well again, that doesn’t make sense.”
“Not much does these days,” he said and changed the subject. “I’ve been thinking. I have an idea.”
“What?
“We order a new couch.”
His answer was not something she expected. In fact, she wondered for a moment if lack of sleep had robbed him of his faculties.
“A…couch? We’re getting shot at and you want to order a couch?”
“Yeah. We find someone who will deliver a couch today. The delivery truck will have to use the delivery entrance. When it arrives, we’ll be waiting. I’ll pay for the couch and send it back to the store. And pay the driver to let us hitch a ride back to wherever he’s going. No one will think anything about a furniture delivery. Once we reach the furniture store or warehouse, we find a way out of the city.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “That’s good. But we’ll never find anyone to deliver something on such short notice.”
“With enough money you can get people to do just about anything,” he said in a bitter tone. “Believe me.”
Lola wasn’t about to argue or to question his sharpness. Everyone had baggage. One day she would want to know all of his. But today all she wanted was to get out of Washington. Morgan wouldn’t be safe here. She wasn’t sure where he would be safe, but she had to do whatever it took to find that place.
“Then let’s get busy,” she said. “I’ll get the phone book and we’ll start calling.”
“Ahead of you,” he said and rolled over to lift the phone book from the nightstand.
“Gotta get my pho—”
She stopped short when he tossed her phone to her.
“Mr. Johnny on the spot,” she said with a slight smile. “Okay, rip out some of those pages and hand them over.”
It took them two hours to find a furniture store that would agree to deliver a sofa the same day. But then Morgan offered an astronomical amount, along with a ludicrous tale about how he’d been smoking a cigar and inadvertently set the couch on fire and now his wife would be home that evening and his life was going to be hell unless he did something fast.
Lola had a hard time believing anyone would fall for that tale, but a small Mom-and-Pop furniture store did. They promised to be there by mid-afternoon.
“So now what?” Lola asked when Morgan finished making the arrangements.
“Now we wait.”
“We could get killed waiting. You don’t think that killer’s just going to sit around and wait, do you? He’s going to figure out a way to get to us.”
“We don’t have a choice, Lola. We have to wait on the truck.”
“Well, I’m not the world’s best at patience,” she said and started to get up from the bed. He pulled her back down.
“Then maybe we should keep your mind off the wait,” he suggested.
Lola’s eyes popped open wide. “You’ve got to be kidding? People are trying to kill you and you want to—”
“No one’s trying to kill me now,” he interrupted in a teasing tone, pulling her closer.
“Morgan!” she exclaimed, pushing away from him and turning to get off the bed. “Don’t you realize what’s going on here? Someone wants to kill us! We can’t just act like it’s another normal day.”
“It’s been hours since the attempt,” he pointed out. “Nothing happened all night and I don’t think there will be another such attempt. Especially not in broad daylight. It would be too risky, too much of a chance of being spotted. Trust me, whoever it is may be watching but they won’t make another move on us until we try to leave.”
“You can’t know that!”
“Yes I can.”
“How? How can you know what that killer is thinking?”
“Because that’s what I’d do,” he replied. “If I’d attempted an assassination with a high-powered rifle through a window and failed, I wouldn’t try it again. The target would be on the watch for it. Just like we are now with drapes drawn. And I wouldn’t try breaking in on them in a place like this. There’s too much security—guards and cameras. Again, too risky. But what I would do is wait until the target left, and pick them off on the street. In the resulting confusion there would be cover to get away.”
“But, Morgan, just because you have it reasoned out that way doesn’t mean—”
“Lola,” he whispered. “I know. But it doesn’t matter. Not now. All that matters now is that I want you. I need you, Lola.”
No other argument would have swayed her as effectively. But her fear kept her rooted in place. Her mind filled with the image of the man in the window, that rifle pointed at their apartment. He could be out there now, waiting for a chance to kill Morgan.
“Nooooo,” she put her hands to her head. She couldn’t let that happen. They needed time. Time to make their escape. Just a few short hours. If only they could be safe for just a few short hours.
She lost track of her surroundings, was unaware that Morgan had gotten off the bed and was shouting her name, shaking her. Her mind was focused on only one thought. Staying safe until Morgan’s plan could be set into action—stopping any more attempts.
“Lola, look!” Morgan exclaimed. “Please. Look at the clock!”
She snapped to, hearing only the word clock. She looked at it. Stared at it. Counted to one hundred. Time did not change.
“You did that!” Morgan exclaimed. “You stopped time.”
She shook her head. “That’s impossible. If time was stopped, then wouldn’t we be stopped too?”
“Who knows?” Morgan replied and went to look out of the window. “But this much I can tell you. Nothing is moving out there.”
“What should I do? How do I make it start back?” She paced back and forth, hugging her arms tight around herself.
“Maybe we don’t want it to start. Lola, if you can keep time frozen then this might be our chance to get away. We’ll have to travel on foot but in just an hour we could be miles from here.”
“You’re right!” She started gathering up things but he stopped her. “Just get your purse.”
“But my computer—”
“It can all be replaced. Come on, let’s go.”
They hurried through the apartment and into the hall. Morgan punched the elevator button. Nothing happened. No lights, no sound. Nothing. He punched it a few more times and they waited. Still nothing.
“I guess it’s like the clocks—stopping time stopped the elevator,” she suggested.
“Then we take the stairs.”
When they reached the lobby level they stopped and gawked. The man at the front reception desk was frozen, his mouth open as he held the telephone receiver to his ear. A woman was halted in mid-stride, looking over her shoulder at the man on the phone.
“This is a little creepy.” Lola reached for Morgan’s hand and they hurried to the door.
And found it immovable. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t open it.
“Let’s try the stairs to the parking garage,” Morgan said and pulled her along as he raced for the rear exit.
Like the front entrance, the door wouldn’t budge.
“Now what?” she asked.
Morgan frowned and shook his head. “I don’t know. It appears we’re stuck. If you unfreeze time then we’re in danger and can’t leave.”
“Doesn’t look like we can leave anyway,” she said.
He blew out his breath and headed for the stairs again. “Where are we going?” she asked as he pulled her along.
“To the apartment. We need to figure out how to use this to our advantage.”
When they reached the apartment Morgan stopped at the door. “Don’t you find it strange that we were able to get out of the apartment but none of the other doors work?”
Lola frowned at the question and reached for the doorknob. It turned and she pushed the door open
. “Okay, that’s odd. Why does this door work and not the others?”
“I wish I knew.” They entered and Morgan flopped on the sofa, frowning tightly. Lola went to the bathroom then sat on the bed. “Maybe I should try and unfreeze things,” she called out to him.
A moment later he entered the bedroom. “Or not.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t,” Morgan said softly.
“What?” She stopped and stared at him in shock.
“Don’t make it start back. Not yet.”
“Morgan, I don’t even know that it’s me who did this. And if it is I sure don’t know how I did it or how to undo it.”
“Then see if you can.”
She concentrated as hard as she could. He went to the window and looked out. “Still frozen.”
She had no idea how long she tried, over and over. And each time she failed.
“Oh god, what are we going to do?”
“Stop trying.” He took her hand. “Look, I know it’s crazy but if this is real then let it last—at least for a little while.”
“You’re out of your mind,” she whispered. “There’s a man out there…”
“Frozen,” he interrupted and suddenly laughed. “You’re right. This is so unbelievable maybe I am out of my mind. But if that’s the case, then at least let me have my fantasies.”
She resisted when he tugged on her hand. “Stop. This isn’t a game.”
He laughed, earning a frown from her. “Come on, Lola. We’ve been handed something…incredible. A moment in time that’s for us alone. Don’t waste it.”
His words struck home. Maybe it was crazy. Who knew? But he was right. They did seem to have been handed a moment where the rest of the world was on hold, and only the two of them were left to experience this standstill. Who knew what would happen in the next moment? If she failed to protect him, then it wouldn’t matter anyway.
Suddenly she wanted time to stay on hold, wanted the moment to be theirs alone. If it was to be one of their last, she wanted it to count.
Without another word she let him pull her down on the bed. He spooned his body around hers, moving her long hair to one side to kiss her shoulder. His hand stroked her thigh and up along the curve of her hip.
Lola felt his erection stiff and hot against her lower back and reached around to position it between her legs, feeling the hard length of it as she wiggled against him. His arms moved around her, hands cupping her breasts and gently thumbing her hard nipples through the blouse and bra. Even with the protection of layers of material, the feeling was electric. She wondered if his excitement could equal half of what she felt.
She lost track of reality, swimming in a sea of sensation until at last his body relaxed. Lola went limp beneath him. He fell down on the bed beside her, pulling her up against his sweat-streaked body.
For a few minutes, they simply lay there, floating on the wave of satisfaction. She rolled over and laid her head on his chest.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Morgan smiled and stroked one hand along the curve of her cheek. “I love you, Lola. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. My dream come to life.”
She returned the smile and closed her eyes. If she were to be trapped in one moment in time, this would be a good one because her fantasy had come true. Morgan Sands loved her.
* * * * *
Lola woke to find herself alone on the bed. She got up and went in search of Morgan. “Morgan?” she called as she crossed the living area and headed for the kitchen.
He stepped into view and she saw he was on the phone. Obviously time had restarted. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m going to take a quick shower.”
He nodded acknowledgement and she padded back to the bathroom. As soon as she’d finished showering and dressing, she went back to the living area. The blinds were tightly drawn, but the sounds of the city were loud thanks to the broken window. Morgan sat at the dining table in front of her laptop.
“What’re you doing?” she asked, wandering over beside him.
He turned to look up at her. “Lola, listen. I need you to sign this for me so I can email it back to my attorney.”
“What is it?” She peered at the screen.
“My will.”
“Your…no. No, no, no.”
“Lola, please!” He stood to take hold of her upper arms. “This is important to me. If our plan doesn’t work or something should happen to me, I have to know you’ll be taken care of. Provided for.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t want it. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”
“I’m just trying to be prepared in case—”
“No!” She broke away from him. “Nothing is going to happen.”
“I hope not.” He stepped toward her as she stepped back again. “But just in case.”
“Morgan, no.” She put her hands on his chest as he closed in on her. “Please. No.”
“Why? I love you, Lola. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Why shouldn’t I make sure that in the event of my—that when I pass on—even at eighty, that you’ll be provided for?”
“That’s not what this is about,” she argued.
“What difference does it make when? I want to do this. I need to know you’ll be okay, that—”
“But I won’t be,” she interrupted. “Not if something happens to you because of this…this mess. If you die, then I die.”
“No. Just because someone’s after me doesn’t mean they’d kill you. There’s no reason for them to—”
“That’s not it! Don’t you get it? I told you about Eulalia. About what I have to do. If I fail, then I die.”
Morgan felt the blood drain from his face. Actually felt a momentary dizziness.
His expression must have alarmed her, because she suddenly grabbed him. “Are you okay?”
“No. I’m anything but okay. What do you mean if you fail you’ll die?”
“Just what I said. If I fail to save you, then I forfeit my own life.”
He stared at her in shock as what she said sunk in. “So what you’re saying is that we either live together or die together. Is that it?”
“Pretty much.”
He raked one hand back through his hair. Suddenly he was even more afraid than he’d been when he heard the voices say that soon he would belong to them. He’d thought that even if he did have to risk dying, at least he could leave Lola secure. But now the game had taken on a much more deadly tone.
“Then we’re going to live,” he said in a firm tone. “And you’re going to sign this. Use your graphics tablet. Just sign it.”
“It isn’t legal without a witness,” she argued. “Besides, money isn’t important. I don’t care about that, Morgan. All I care about is getting out of this city and somewhere safe so we can figure out what to do. Please, don’t ask me to do this. If you love me, don’t ask.”
He gave in. Not because he wanted to but because he could tell by the expression on her face and the look in her eyes that she would not budge. And he gave in because it seemed that far more was at stake than his own skin. He would not let the voices be right. He would not die. And he would not let Lola die.
“Fine. Then let’s get packed, okay? It won’t be long before the furniture people will be here. I want to be ready to leave as soon as they arrive.”
“Okay.” She gave him a smile and leaned in to kiss him gently. “We’ll find a way to get past this.”
“And live happily ever after?” he asked, trying to tease.
“Without a doubt,” she agreed. “Now get rid of that thing on my laptop and let me get it packed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Neither of them had much to say. They’d agreed that they would only take the cameras and the laptop. Everything else they’d leave behind. That way if someone came to check it would appear as if they’d simply stepped out and planned on returning.
When the clock read two, they were both sitting on the couch, waiting in
nervous silence.
The minutes ticked by. A quarter past. Half past. Morgan started to get worried. He reached for his phone to call the furniture store, but Lola put her hand on his arm to stay him. “Give it a little more time.”
At a quarter to three, the house phone rang. Morgan sprang up to answer it. “Yes… Yes, we are… Yes, I’d like to go down and speak with the delivery person before they bring it up. Make sure it’s correct.” He gave a false laugh into the phone. “Yeah, you never know these days…thanks. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
He hung up the phone. “It’s time.”
Lola stood, looped her purse over her shoulder and grabbed her laptop case. “I’m ready.”
Morgan grabbed his camera case and opened the door. He looked both ways then stepped out into the hall. “Okay, come on.”
Lola followed him to the service elevator. They took it to the basement level, the parking garage. When the doors opened, Morgan pressed a hand against one side, preventing them closing as he looked around the area. Aside from a delivery truck with the name of the furniture store on it, there were empty cars, probably belonging to people who worked in the building.
“Mr. Sands?” the driver of the truck called out.
“Yes,” Morgan replied, and stepped out of the elevator.
“Man on the phone said you wanted to check the couch before I take it up?”
“Yes,” Morgan said and paused to look back at Lola. “Stay here.”
She wanted to argue, but the set of his jaw told her to stay quiet, so she just nodded. Morgan started toward the truck, cutting a look over his shoulder at Lola as the driver got out.
The moment he did, fear bit her hard and sharp. That was the man in the photo.
The realization that she’d reached the moment of truth almost paralyzed her. Nausea bubbled in her stomach but she forced her legs to move, keeping an eye on what was happening. She hurried toward the front of the truck.
The man was headed for the back of the truck. With his back to Morgan, there was no way Morgan would recognize him. “Be easier if you just climbed in and took a look,” the man said. “Save me from dragging it out if it isn’t right.”
“Sure,” Morgan replied.
The man pulled open the right half of the back door. “Okay, have at it.”
