Meet Me in the Dark

"I'll figure something out, Charlotte," I say for the third time.

She squeezes my hand, giving me a weak smile that breaks my heart. "I know."

I don't know if she believes herself any more than I believe her. Any more than I believe my own reassurances to her. Because I have no idea where I'm going to get the money to pay for her kidney transplant. Only that I need to get that money, somehow, some way. And quick.

"I'll just go talk to the financial department again. There has to be something they can do to help."

She scoffs. "They won't even put me on the list until they know that we can pay for the transplant. I feel like that's borderline attempted murder."

Her words hurt like hell, but I chuckle along with her anyway. Then I shake my head. "I don't understand why they're willing to cover the medicine for after the surgery, but not the surgery itself. It's stupid."

"It's greedy. You need to pay us $260,000 for the surgery, but hey, we'll cover the $17,000 in anti-rejection drugs after. You know, if you make it, and your body doesn't reject the kidney."

"Char," I murmur.

"Sorry, that got a little darker than I meant for it to. It's just so frustrating. I can't do anything to help from this hospital bed. I don't have a job, have no insurance, so all of this falls on your shoulders. My little sister's shoulders. There is not a single part of this that doesn't suck."

"I know, but we'll..."

"Figure it out. I know. It's what we do. What we've always done."

"You and me against the world." I grip her hand tighter. "Not even kidney failure is gonna bring us down."

"That bitch sure is trying, though." She laughs, and I can't help but join in.

The nurse, Veronica, comes into the room, a smile stretching across her face. "Well, it's good to hear you ladies laughing."

I'm so grateful for her. With Charlotte having already been here for over a month, Veronica has kept her company, in this room and during dialysis, and kept her smiling, when I wasn't able to be here. Ever since she asked if our parents would be visiting and I told her they’d died when we were younger, she’d taken to watching over Charlotte a lot closer. It was a little more bearable leaving here knowing that Veronica checks on her throughout the night while I’m at work.

"Everything looking good today?" I ask as she takes Charlotte's blood pressure.

"The same," she answers. "Which in this case, same means good.”

I nod, looking down at my phone. Why does the time always pass so quickly when I'm with my sister? Sighing, I look back at Charlotte and find her already staring at me, sadness in her eyes. I can feel the apology coming, but like every other time, it's not needed. So, I speak before she can.

"I've gotta get going to work," I say as I stand.

Charlotte always feels bad when I have to leave for work, a job she feels her sickness has trapped me in. Would I have chosen to leave school to be a waitress at a diner with a dickhead for a boss because it got me good tips? No, but was I more than willing to do it for my sister? Yes. I lean over and kiss her cheek.

"I'll call you when I get off."

"Don't forget. You know I can't sleep until I know you made it home."

"Yes, mom." I chuckle as I walk toward the door. "Bye, Veronica."

"See you tomorrow, honey. As for you, I believe we have a scrabble game for you to lose."

"In your dreams." Charlotte laughs.

I smile as I leave, holding that sound close to my heart. Because the fact is, I'm terrified I might lose it. I'm running out of time, and no closer to having the money for her surgery than when she got admitted a month ago. Between paying for her dialysis and hospital bills, rent, and all the costs for an apartment I'm barely in except to sleep, I'm drowning.

I press the button for the elevator, finally letting my shoulders slump as I wait for it to arrive. It feels like the weight of the world is on them, but I know I cannot afford to succumb. My sister's life literally depends on it. A ding sounds moments before the elevator doors open. I step inside, letting my head fall back to the wall.

It jerks back up though when a man, just barely, slides through the narrow space between the doors. I watch him with wide eyes as he stumbles into the elevator, wondering why the hell he just risked half his body getting caught in the doors to get into this car. The doors are open again now, but my eyes are stuck to the man, and as I take him in, my mind quickly shifts from trying to figure out if he has a death wish to noticing how damn sexy he is.

At least 6'6, jet black hair that's cut on the sides, and longer in the middle. Some of it falls over his eyes until he brings his hand up to brush it back as he finally lifts his head. Full lips that turn up a little at the corners, as if they're in a perpetual smirk, a beard that covers his chin and cheeks. The lines of it along his cheeks are precise, perfect, just like the rest of his face. I see his Adam's apple move with a swallow and my eyes shoot to his. And good lord, those eyes. Light grey, intense, and staring right back at me.

I look away, embarrassed at being caught staring, but still, I can't actually stop taking in more of him. His all-black suit fits him so right that it's immediately clear it was tailored just for his body. And what a body it is. His suit does nothing to disguise the muscular frame underneath, tight around his arms and thighs, expanding across his wide chest. I wonder what he looks like without that suit on. Without anything...

All thoughts of what he looks like naked stop at the sound the elevator begins to make. I look up at the ceiling of the car, where the grinding, mechanical sounds are coming from.

"That doesn't sound good," I murmur.

"We'll be fine," the man says, making me look back at him. “I'm sure it's just..."

The elevator stops completely. Completely. Jerks to a halt so suddenly that I have to grab onto the handrail to keep from falling.

"Oh my fucking God," I exclaim. "Tell me this elevator did not just stop working."

"Pretty sure it did."

"How the hell are you so calm?" I scream, panic setting in more with every second the elevator doesn't begin moving again.

"Maybe we can try and push the doors open," the man suggests.

"Are you kidding me? Every horror movie with an elevator scene has somebody peeking out to get their damn head chopped off when the elevator begins moving again. I don't know about you, but I like my head right where it is."

He chuckles, his tucked-in lips telling me he's trying, and failing, not to laugh at my hysterics.

"How are you so calm right now?" I ask again, finally letting go of the handrail to press the call button on the panel.

"I'm sure we won't be in here long."

"I'm glad one of us is sure we won't die of starvation in here. Hello!" I shout toward the panel.

"Maybe it's not working. Let me call the fire department."

I nod, sliding down to the floor just to get off of my shaky legs.

"Hello. Me and a young woman are in an elevator that's stopped working in Johnson Memorial Hospital... The seventh floor... The electricity is still working, or at least, the lights are still on... Alright, thank you." He presses the screen and puts his phone in his pants pocket. "They're on their way."

I nod, releasing a shaky breath as I look down at my phone, noting the time. They’ve got about ten minutes before I start losing my mind. I could swear it’s already getting harder to breathe in here. Or is that just me?

"Okay, okay,” I say, trying to calm myself as I look back at the man. “Um, you don't know me from Eve, but please keep me talking until we get out of here. Because the other option is I hyperventilate and you have to give me mouth to mouth to resuscitate me."

Those lips do quirk up then. "That doesn't sound so bad to me."

Well, heat rushing through me is one way to make me stop freaking out.

"But sure," he continues. "Maybe we can start with names. I'm Law. Well, Lawson, but Law."

"I'm Sophie."

"Sophie," he says my name quietly, slowly, as if he's savoring it, probably having no idea just the sound of it leaving those sexy lips is enough to make me have to avoid rubbing my thighs together.

Then he goes and makes it worse by taking off his jacket, those muscles I already knew were there becoming more pronounced through his white button-down shirt. I stay silent as I watch him, like some erotic movie playing out before me, his each move graceful, enticing, and sexy. I know I should stop staring, but again, I find I can’t.

He doesn’t make it any easier to look away when he unbuttons his shirt sleeves and rolls them up to just under his elbows. How can so simple of an act have me filled with desire, swallowing just to give my suddenly dry mouth something to do? The thought of being stuck in this elevator doesn’t seem so bad if it means he’ll keep undressing.

"What are you doing at the hospital today, Sophie?" he asks as he lays his jacket across his lap.

Well, that's like a bucket of cold water. I clear my throat. "I was visiting my sister. She's, uh, waiting for a kidney transplant."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is she just waiting until one becomes available or..."

I shake my head. "Not even on the list yet. Not until I pay this dumb ass hospital at least half of the money for the surgery."

He whistles. "That is pretty shitty. How much is that? If you don't mind me asking."

"Are you kidding? We've been elevators buddies for..." I look down at my phone. "At least five minutes now. It's $260,000. On top of the other hospital costs."

"And they can't help you cut some of those down at all?"

"Well, since the lady in the financial department looks at me like I'm not worth more than the dirt under her shoes every time I speak with her, I'm gonna say no."

"I'm sorry."

I shrug. "That's life. Anyway, why are you here?"

"Just handling some business. Was definitely ready to be on my way home, though. But I guess, the elevator had other plans for my night. Are you the one giving her the kidney?"

"I wish, which I guess sounds really weird to say." I chuckle. "But no, we're not a close enough match. The way I see it, I can always sell my kidney to get my sister a kidney."

I expect him to laugh along with my twisted joke, but he licks his lips instead.

"Or there's another option," he says.

I tilt my head. "And what's that? Are you some fairy godfather come to save the day and grant all my wishes?"

He grins, but it is anything but kind. Wicked, mischievous, knowing. "Depends what your wishes are for. I'm not magical, but I do think, should you accept my offer, I could make a few things better for you."

"Your... offer?" I slowly question, arching a brow.

"I'll give you three hundred thousand dollars," he states.

My defenses immediately rise, and I narrow my eyes at him, wondering what game he's playing. "No one gives anything for free."

"I never said it would be free."

"So what would I have to do for this three hundred thousand dollars?" I ask.

"Meet me every Saturday for three months."

"And do what?"

Although from the way his eyes are roaming over me, I'm pretty sure I already know.

"Whatever I want you to."

It feels like everything stills. My thoughts, my heart, shit, even my pulse. Whatever he wants. Whatever he wants. Whatever he wants. It repeats in my mind again and again.

"I'm not some whore," I say, my voice shaky.

"I'm not saying you are, unless you want me to treat you like one."

"Why would I ever want you to treat me like a whore?" I snap.

He juts his chin toward me. "Maybe from the way you've been rubbing your thighs together since the moment you said the word."

I immediately stop doing what I didn't even know I was doing. Fuck my body for betraying me like that. Because he's right. My mind is full of images of him taking me rough, hard, fast, making me scream his name that I only just learned. I shake my head, trying to rid it of those thoughts.

"This is a joke, right? What the hell would cause a stranger to offer me that amount of money for a few Saturdays?"

"When the stranger is interested in what it feels like to be between your thighs."

A whimper, a fucking whimper, damn near escapes me. What the hell? I've never had anyone talk to me like this, let alone someone I've been talking to for... I look down at my phone again. Seven minutes now. I stand, just to give myself something to do.

"I can't meet you," I tell him, and myself really. "How do I know you're not some serial killer and this is how you lure your victims to some dodgy hotel? Strangling them to death or something?"

He chuckles, dark and sexy. "Oh, I do love to choke, but not to death. Only until you cum."

"Oh God." I breathe. Just the image I needed right now.

"And I don't quite think I'd be luring victims with elevator cameras watching me."

I look toward the corner where the camera is, wondering if someone can hear our conversation, the proposition I was just given. A flush crawls up my neck, making me hot for all the wrong reasons.

"Does that embarrass you?" he asks, standing up too, making me look back at him. "That someone might have heard me saying I'll pay to fuck you?"

Oh God. I look away again, needing to hide the truth that might be in my eyes. The lust he'd find there if I looked at him for too long. Because I'm not embarrassed that someone might have heard. I'm turned on. I can feel the wetness coating my panties at this point. From the way he's watching me, his words, his voice. Then I do the dumbest thing possible. Check to see if he's as aroused as me. And fuck if his pants aren't tented... a lot.

"God, why haven't they gotten us out of here yet?" I groan.

"You'd pick the hotel. Just let me know which one, and I'll book a room. We meet, we fuck, we leave. Simple."

"What is simple about anything that you just said?"

"Do you accept?" he asks instead of answering my question.