Four strangers are trapped in an elevator and forced to reveal details about their most malicious deeds within the hour to prevent a fall to their death. But as secrets are exposed, tension escalates, leading to a reality no one is prepared for.
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I glanced back and forth between the two pair of eyes and the silence in the space brought attention to the thump, thump, thump in my chest from my rapidly beating heart.
My fingertips grazed the button that held my pants together around my hips. I hesitated, but the ticking clock chimed in my mind, reminding me time wasn't on our side. If I were to get out of the elevator intact, I had to play the game.
Mr. Macho stared at my working fingers as he blindly tightened the bloody satin fabric on his injured hand. "What do I look like allowing a young lady to expose herself to a couple of male strangers? How about I conduct a quick frisk and we call it a night?"
"How about you keep your hands to yourself." I gestured to his injury, astonished that he still hadn't learned his lesson. If he continued putting his hands where they didn't belong, he might end up losing it.
He lifted his arms in defense. "Fair enough."
Their gazes seared my flesh as the damp, urine-soaked fabric peeled from my legs and over my shoes. I had once believed they were courteous to not mention the stench of ammonia or the yellow stain it left on my clothes, but I tossed their perceived courtesy out the window as they watched and waited like slobbering wolves to their prey.
Mr. Macho grunted. "Seb's a lucky man."
I kept a straight face as I pulled the pockets inside out and tossed the pants in the corner with the rest of my belongings. "Seb is a good man with a good heart, trying to navigate this unfair world like the rest of us."
"Tell me about it." Mouse scoffed. "Life isn't fair."
"Life is as fair as you make it," Mr. Macho chimed in. "We choose our path. We choose the life we want. Not some mystical deity."
"Speak for yourself," Mouse argued. "I didn't choose the streets. I never chose the streets."
"Maybe subconsciously you did," the giant went on. "Have you ever stopped to think that your reluctance to get off your lazy ass and work for the life you want is what contributed to your 'bad luck'?" His eyes never left me even though he spoke to the other man.
I tangled the edge of my shirt in my fingers and lifted it over my head in one swoop. Standing in nothing but my matching red lace bra and panties, and the red high heels that protected me from the tainted floor, I shook my shirt out like Mouse had, and toss it in the corner. I strategically separated and draped my many, long braids over my breasts to provide some sense of privacy beyond the lacy fabric.
"Nah uh." Mr. Macho flicked his wrist, instructing me to remove the veil of hair.
I sighed and pulled my hair back, feeling the ends of it graze my lower back. "Satisfied?"
"I'm not sure." Mr. Macho rubbed his chin, taking me in, scrutinizing. "A lady has plenty of nooks and crannies to hide things. How about you give us a spin?"
