Commodity - Page 18

He’s absolute perfection from his surprised and intense eyes to the plain, white towel wrapped around his waist.

“Oh, shit!” Falk takes a step back, tightening his grip on the towel. “I thought you were still asleep.”

“Sorry,” I mumble, tearing my eyes away from his glistening chest and abs. “I didn’t mean to…”

…to stare…to ogle...to practically drool on you.

“Sorry,” I say again as I make my way over to the couch and sit down with my hands over my face. He ducks into the bedroom and closes the door quickly while I try to compose myself.

I can hear him rummaging around in the closet. I don’t want to think about how he’s probably standing there, sans towel, as he picks out something to wear for the day. I try not to wonder what the rest of him looks like as my heart beats quickly in my chest.

I must be losing my mind.

Since the day I was abducted, I haven’t had a single sexual thought. I haven’t fantasized about my favorite actors, watched a romantic comedy, or read an erotic book. I haven’t even masturbated. Men have been the farthest thing from my mind.

It’s just the situation.

Everything around me is in chaos, and he’s here, trying to keep me calm and safe. He let me break down, but he’s remained levelheaded. He’s comforted me. It’s natural to feel some kind of attraction. It doesn’t mean anything.

Closing my eyes, I lean back on the couch and try to clear my mind. Right now, I should be in front of a slew of government officials, giving my testimony for the fifteenth time. I should be pointing to the documented data where I first found the discrepancies, how I traced those through the computer system and found a holding company with a name that wasn’t on the books. I’d be explaining how I’d enlisted Daniel’s help in researching the holding company and describing the websites he’d found with pictures and video of underage girls.

“How do you know that Mr. Hudson was involved?”

“He was one of the men who assaulted me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

“You never saw him though?”

“I heard his voice.”

“But you never actually saw Mr. Hudson, did you, Ms. Savinski?”

“No, sir, but it is his DNA they found on me.”

“Hannah?”

I flinch and open my eyes. It takes me a moment to respond.

“Yes?”

“I think I have some clothes that will fit you if you want them.”

I head back into the bedroom slowly, limping. Falk is dressed in blue jeans and a dull green T-shirt. It’s a stark contrast to the suit he’s been wearing. There’s one handgun in a holster at his hip and another in a holster around his shoulder.

“My sister left some of her laundry in my dryer the last time she visited,” he says as he holds up a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. He points to a laundry bag on the bed. “There are jeans and a couple other shirts in there as well. They might be a little big on you, but they’re better than nothing.”

“Definitely better than nothing,” I say. “Thank you.”

“I’m going to gather a few things up and load them into the car,” Falk says. “I think the first thing we need to do is look for other survivors. There has to be someone else around. We can also go back to the airport to see if we can locate our luggage as well.”

“What are you going to put in the car?”

“Food and water,” he says. He takes a packet of what appears to be some kind of ready-to-eat meal and stacks it with a few others on the floor. “Also some ammo and a couple of the rifles.”

My skin tingles.

Tags: Shay Savage Science Fiction
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