Double Dealing(6)

Getting back to my work, I left the Kokuho room and went back to the supply room, getting the floor buffer and chemicals that I hated. At the last minute, I remembered my mask and turned back, grabbing that before starting my work.

It's an unappreciated art, learning how to use an industrial floor buffer. If you don't know what you’re doing, even a strong man will end up exhausting himself as he tries to fight the inertia of the giant spinning disc underneath the machine. A woman my size could be whipped around in circles until she's flung off if she wasn't careful. I'd first learned doing a stint as a fast food worker two years prior on a different machine, but the principles were the same. I had gotten the hang of the JANM monster and could make progress, but still wasn't as much an expert as some of the others, I was sure.

With the face mask on, I also decided to put in some headphones, listening to a mix of music on an old iPod I’d bought when my finances were better. I'd have preferred to listen to Pantera live, but it was better than the monotonous burr of the buffer.

Every hundred feet or so, I had to stop the buffer to unplug it and change outlets, so I missed the initial attack on the Kokuho room. The guards had changed over perhaps fifteen minutes earlier when I saw mist coming from around the corner of the next corridor. Stopping my buffer, I approached the corner, more curious than anything else.

The mist was thicker around the corridor, nearly smoke, and I walked through it towards the Kokuho room, trying to figure out what was going on. I passed by a fire alarm and pulled it, sure that somehow a fire had started, maybe due to a short in the wiring or a light overheating. I kept going because I wanted to make sure the guard wasn't injured, and I didn't feel any heat yet.

The mist got thicker until I could barely see my hand in front of my face, so I was surprised and shocked when a man came out of the Kokuho exhibit room and bowled me over. He hadn’t been anticipating me, as he was knocked down too, both of us falling to the floor, him on top of me. As I fell, I saw him clearly, his mouth and nose covered in a mask similar to mine. My head hit the tile, and blackness dropped like a curtain over my vision.





Chapter 3





Jordan




I woke up in a bed, confused and disoriented. I blinked and realized I wasn't in a hospital, but in what looked like a log cabin of all things. Two of the walls were the sort of rounded log appearance that I associated with cabins at least, while the other two were thick-looking unfinished planks that looked like older wood. There were no windows, and the door was shut pretty solidly. The room was lit by a simple battery powered lantern that cast a slightly yellow LED shine around the room, not enough to really see, but enough to get the basics. I blinked again, wincing at the pain in the back of my head. I'd certainly hit my head rather solidly, that was for sure. "Hello?"

There was no answer, so I cleared my throat and tried again. "Hello?"

I heard movement outside the door, and the distinct sound of a latch being thrown back before the door opened and in walked a guy who looked like he was from an old poem, maybe something by Browning or Shelley. Thick, slightly wavy black hair capped a fine forehead which led to mysterious black eyes, like two obsidian orbs in the midst of a lightly tanned face. His lips and mouth were sensuous, the sort that made women wonder what they would feel like pressed against their skin. That is, when they didn’t wake up in a strange log cabin. His looks promised dark, forbidden pleasures that you didn't tell your friends about.

His face was just the beginning, though. He was kind of tall, maybe a shade over six feet, with an athletic physique that added allure to the promise of his hips and eyes. His shoulders were broad, capped with rounded muscle that went down to baseball-sized biceps and forearms thickly corded with muscle that rippled under a coat of black curls. His chest was just as impressive before darting down to an almost impossibly narrow waist before flaring out to strong legs, although he was wearing black cargo pants that hid most of what they looked like.

"Hello?" I repeated, feeling somewhat foolish. "Where am I?"

"I apologize for the strangeness, Miss Banks, but after my brother ran over you, we had to take you with us," he said. His voice was like pure melted butter it was so smooth, a mix of French, American, and something else that I couldn't put my finger on. Either way, it was a perfect match to his sensual body. "How is your head?"

"Hurts," I replied after a moment, blinking when I realized I'd been staring. I smiled, suddenly shy, only to feel my face flush when he smiled back. He had perfect teeth, something you don't see often when your nightlife is hanging around rock musicians. "Why am I not in a hospital?"