jerk my elbow out of his grasp.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice rising. “We need to go!”
“Go where?” I stomp my foot, reminding myself of my three-year-old son, Sammy. “I’m not going anywhere with you until I know what’s happening.” I take a few steps away from him. “Is this some kind of joke? Is this some sort of weird initiation?” I point at him. “I’ve heard about you guys. I know you like to play practical jokes on people who work with you.” My sister is so going to get a nipple twist for this. One for each boob.
He takes a step toward me with his hands held out. His voice is much calmer than before. There’s no dimple going on though, so he’s not fooling me. “I promise you, this is not a joke nor any kind of weird initiation. There’s something going on outside, and I need to make sure you’re safe before I investigate what it is.”
“But what about my sister?”
“Your sister is with Ozzie, so she’s fine. Come on.” He takes me by the arm, more gently this time. “Please, follow me.”
Even though this is the most ridiculous start to a new job I’ve ever experienced, I can tell Dev is serious. And it seems like he wants to do the right thing by making sure I’m okay before he moves on to the next step, so I decide to play along. But if this turns out to be some sort of weird initiation or hazing ritual, heads are gonna roll.
CHAPTER THREE
Dev’s hand slides from my arm down to my hand as he drags me through the warehouse to our destination—a destination I do not yet know. I’m trying not to have all these silly, girly reactions to holding hands with this strange man, but it’s impossible. I can’t remember the last time I felt a man’s fingers wrapped around mine. I can say I’ve never felt anything quite like this before; his hands are huuuuge. This must be what Sammy feels like when he holds his father’s hand. Of course, Sammy is three and I’m thirty-two, and I should be over stupid things like this. Ridiculous, the things that will flow through a person’s head when she feels like she’s running for her life.
“Am I in danger?” Dev doesn’t answer me, so I continue, my sneakers squeaking in fast rhythm as I nearly run to keep up with him. It’s a good thing I’m not wearing corduroy right now or I’d be setting my thighs on fire with all the friction I’m kicking up. “Because I didn’t sign up for any danger when I told my sister I would come here and help. I’m not into danger like you guys are. I’m into warm baths and wine and quiet. Quietude. I like quietude. I’m no commando. I always wear underpants.” Apparently, when I panic, I overshare. It’s weird, learning new things about yourself when you’re over thirty.
My pleas are falling on deaf ears. Dev says nothing as we rush past a set of cubicles.
“Is this where I’m supposed to work?” I look over my shoulder, the comfortable-looking chairs and cubicles disappearing in the distance. I complained before about coding, but I won’t complain anymore. Just let me code! I don’t want to run from strange sounds!
“Later,” he says.
Another boom echoes out behind us, this time fainter because we’re farther away. I pick up the pace, no longer interested in those damn cubicles. Screw coding . . . get me outta here. He better be bringing me to a back door.
“Is somebody trying to get into the warehouse?” I ask, fearing the obvious.
“Could be.” We reach a hallway and he turns right and then takes another quick left.
“Where are we going?” I’m whining now. I can’t help it. I’m so going to kill my sister when I see her again. Forget nipple twists. Those are for minor transgressions; I’m going to put her in a figure-four and make her beg for mercy.
“You’ll see.”
He stops at a door that has a keypad on the outside of it. He jabs in a code, and the click of a lock releasing follows.
Pushing the door open with his shoulder, he takes me by the elbow and drags me in behind him. A dim overhead light illuminates the small closet-sized space we’re now standing in. I am so not impressed with this rescue plan. There are mops hanging on the wall, for God’s sake.
I crane my neck back