I rewrote this chapter, so there may be inconsistencies that I forgot to put in this from the 'other' chapter. Can't say I'm totally satisfied with the chapter, but this is probably better than the other one.
Connie snuggled into her covers, but still was shivering. Why was it so cold? Did we forget to pay the electric bill or something? she wondered.
Then she realized she wasn't in her bed; she was in a sleeping bag, and in front of her sat a space heater, which wasn't on at the moment.
And on the chair, Gray sat, looking down at her, head tilted slightly, in the early morning light his eyes looking as clear as crystal, their pupils black pinpoints. He held a cell phone in his hand.
"I trust you're feeling better?" he said.
"Yeah. It's just…really cold." Her teeth chattered. But thankfully, she didn't have a headache, and all sickness from yesterday had disappeared during the night.
He punched some numbers on the phone, then handed it to her.
"Hello?"
Jason! His voice sent a thrill through her; tears came to her eyes, and for a moment, her throat tightened so she couldn't speak. "Who is this?"
"Jason? It's me!"
"Connie! Where are you?"
"I'm—"
Gray snatched the phone away from her.
"Yes, Jason," he said. "I have her. If you tell me where the weapon is, I'll let her go. No further harm will come to her."
She could hear Jason's angry voice from the other end of the phone, and wiped away the tears that had spilled from her eyes.
"Don't worry, she's fine. For now. And if you tell me where it is within, let's say, one hour, I'll set her free.
"What if you don't? Think about it, Jason. It's not even technically a weapon. Is it really worth this girl's life? Her sanity? Her—
"Yes, I know, you'll kill me when you find me. But I doubt you'll be able to find me before I've gone further than you want me to go.
"One hour. You could see her, undamaged, in a little more than that. Otherwise, the next time you hear her, she'll be screaming."
He shut off the phone, and stepped over to her. She scrambled up, away from him, fear pounding through her.
"Don't worry. If Jason cares about you, he'll give me the information the next time I call. If not, I may not even have to hurt you, if you'll give me a convincing scream."
"He-he won't give you his secrets that easily."
"Then we'll all have a reunion soon." He grasped her wrist. She tried to pull her arm away; he twisted. Pain shot through her wrist. "You, my dear, are the bait in the center of the trap, waiting for it to spring as soon as he steps inside." He smiled, like a wolf eyeing its prey. "When I have both of you, his father will have no choice but to give me his secret as well."
He released her. "But for now, I think it's time we have some breakfast. What would you like?"
She cradled her wrist, looked away.
"I'll get us both something." He turned toward the door. "Remember, if you try to leave, the door will blow up in your face."
He stepped through it, without doing anything visible that would indicate the 'trick' to opening it.
She stood there, shaking from the cold of his touch, from the ice of his words that had stabbed her heart.
To be the one that led Jason into the trap. She'd wanted to help him and now—she would be leading him back in the hands of the man who'd nearly torn him apart.
She turned toward the window. Dread, fear for him, longing to see him all jumbled up inside her, jostling against each other.
His voice, his face filled her mind—she longed to feel the warmth of his hand against hers—
A shock jolted through her. She'd felt this way before…an echo of it danced across her skin. The one who had broken her heart…not really through any fault of his own. But after that, she'd closed off any thought of love so that she probably wouldn't even recognize it when it appeared.
No, I'm being silly. Nothing's normal right now—how can I trust my judgment? I love Jason as a friend. I don't—couldn't possibly—love him, that way.
But even as she thought the word 'friend', it sounded hollow. After what they'd shared the past few months, their relationship was almost too close to be called friendship. During the many hours as he was recovering, they'd had a lot of time to talk. He'd shared the depths of his soul; she'd shared hers in return.
Would it have happened with someone else under the same circumstances? Maybe. But no one she knew was like Jason, not even—
Shut up, she told her mind. I have to think of a way to escape. I can figure out how I 'feel' later. If at all.
Escape is the only way to get out of this without drawing him into a trap.
I could try to go through the door; it might be a bluff. But I'd rather not take that risk.
She turned back to the window, huddled into her coat, her breath fogging out into the frigid air. Outside, pigeons pecked among the stones and hopped in the snow on the triangle section of roof that jutted out from the building. We're only about two stories up, she thought. Maybe I can break the window, and see if there's a fire escape, or some other way down. If not, I could jump….
She rummaged among the building materials for something that would help break the window, and found a sturdy, three-foot piece of wood.
Then, standing sideways, like a baseball player at bat, she swung.
Crash! The window shattered, showering her with glittering pieces of glass. She leaped back, shielding her eyes. Cold wind rushed inside, but she stepped into it, through the opening. Her shoes crunched in the snow on the roof. Crouching down, she walked toward the edge, and peered over.
Dizziness attacked her. It was only two stories, but there was no fire escape, nothing that she could climb down on, just a sheer wall of concrete. She stepped back, feeling sick. As a child, she'd always wondered what would happen if there was a fire and the only way to get out was to jump out the window, and break her leg or arm with the fall. What if I hit my head? I could die unconscious in the snow….
Maybe I'll try to yell for help, she thought, but saw no one near, only the abandoned building and a dilapidated railroad bridge not far away. Besides, if she called, Gray might hear her.
She closed her eyes. It's not just for me, it's for Jason.
Please, God, let this work.
She walked along the roof, inspecting it for a place with no ice, so she could hang off the edge and it wouldn't be as far to jump. Standing, she took a deep breath. I can do this. At least there's some snow at the bottom that might cushion my fall.
A 'clink' behind her. She turned and saw someone emerging through the broken window, gun in hand. Gray.
Terror flashed through her.
Without hesitation, she jumped.
