Chapter IX

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Though I was suspended in the air, he still towered above me.

"Look at me," he demands. His eyes are still furiously dark, but they now reflect what seems to be concern. His brows furrow.

"Did he touch you?"

"No."

"You're positive?" He said skeptically. "You look awful."

What a knight in shining armor.

"Yeah, well, I don't think you'd look so great if you were in my position either," I lied. "How else could I possibly look right now?"

"No, I mean... Have you been hurt?"

"I don't really know. Yes? It seems that way. I can't remember anything, but my head is absolutely killing me."

When I said this, any previous hint of worry in his eyes was washed away, leaving him in the same expression he entered with.

"You can't remember anything? You don't know who I am?"

"I mean, I know who I am and yes, I just realized who you are, but how I got here – what day it is – if Shawn's hurt...." I trail off.

Ever closes his eyes before letting out a very frustrated sigh. Upon reopening them, he steps forward. He looks down at me and puts his hand to my stomach. Before I can ask what he's doing, he begins to push – sending me backwards. After probably a foot and a half of the sound of my handcuffs scraping against the pipe, I stopped. He wraps an arm around the back of my thighs and begins to lift me up; I am basically sitting on his arm. While I'm busy paying too much attention to that little fact, he takes another step forward and my arms begin to fall. 

I apparently had been hanging quite awhile, and feel a terrible ache the instant they move. I lower them slowly until they fall onto his shoulder. He is literally holding me now. I had instinctively wrapped my legs around him when my hands fell, not noticing until now. I expected him to put me down at this point, but instead he lifts me higher. He stares into my eyes as I ascended past him, above his height and then down again – over his back.

"What are you doing?" I ask, confused.

"I've no idea how long you've been there at the moment, though I intend to find out. I do know that your body is most likely incredibly tender, given your position. You shouldn't walk."

"But my dress-"

"I'm very aware of your attire." His hand moved to my butt. TO MY BUTT.

"Woah!" I exclaimed.

"Calm down," he returns, sounding annoyed. I feel a pull on the bottom fabric of my dress, and the hem touch a lower portion of my skin. He places his hand on the back of my upper thigh. I can feel that he's holding the fabric in place so it doesn't ride up.

After it's secure, he starts for the door. I look up at the room behind us. It was as it felt: cold and concrete. The pipe I was hanging on did, indeed, protrude from the ceiling. Halfway across the room, it ended, as if it had been cut. Underneath the pipe lay the man he had shot, still breathing. I winced, only a tad. A small pool of blood collected around the left side of his body.

On the way out I notice several pairs of feet. Are these Kingsley's men?

Kingsley's men. 

Why did Kingsley have men? What is it that he does for a living? How do I even actually know him? Jesus, why can't I remember.

I closed my eyes and tried ever so hard to push back the pain in my head so I could get to my memories.

He's a drug dealer! Shawn's drug dealer! Yes, that's right! Has Shawn sent him here? Or, maybe he was taken, too and had somehow called Ever to help?

Fuck. WHY IS THINKING SO HARD RIGHT NOW.

Ding.

I opened my eyes again, looking down at the floor. We cross from the concrete onto a wooden floor belonging to an elevator. The doors closed.

"Ever," I feel a finger on my thigh twitch. 

"What's happened? Why are you... saving me?"

I expect an answer right away, but he stays silent until almost twenty seconds later, when I hear the elevator ding once more.

"Ms. Hawthorne," he spoke almost regretfully. "I'm not here to save you."

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Sorry for the short chapter! Promise ten will be longer. 

Thanks for reading!

Sincerely yours, 

An Author Desperate for Feedback 

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