Page 33 of Kill For Me Kill For You
And there was nothing he could do about it.
15
Ruth
A week after the visit from the police, Ruth stepped into the hotel elevator with Scott. She gripped his hand tightly. It was seven in the evening, and they were dressed for dinner. There was no one else in the elevator, and it rode smoothly to the lobby.
The elevator slowed, stopped.
Ruth breathed out, rolled her shoulders.
Scott said, ‘You can do this.’
Ruth nodded.
The doors opened on the lobby.
Scott stepped forward. Ruth didn’t move. He turned back toward her.
She held his gaze, fighting back the tears and that familiar panic that had begun to twist in her belly like a corkscrew. It felt as though the heels of her shoes were cemented to the floor.
‘It’s okay, honey. I’m here. Come on, let’s eat,’ he said.
There were three people waiting for them to exit so they could take the elevator. A young couple and a toddler. The man looked around Scott’s age. The woman was a little younger than Ruth. She was getting up from a kneeling position, still holding her child’s hand.
‘Just wait for the nice lady,’ said the woman to her little son. He was trying to get through the doors to the lift, but she was holding him back.
Ruth closed her eyes and took a step. Then another. She was in the lobby; the family had passed her. She heard the rollers on the doors as they closed. Above that sound, a melody played on the hotel’s PA system. A piano. Something soft, slow and jazzy. She could barely hear it over the sound of her pulse thumping in her ears.
She felt Scott’s hand gently tugging her forward and she opened her eyes.
The hotel lobby was dimly lit with a range of muted lamps and a huge glass chandelier that hung over the mosaic tiled floor. There were people all around. Young, old, black, white, Asian, some tall and some short. Men and women.
Strangers.
Gooseflesh covered her skin.
‘None of these people know you. No one is watching us. We’re safe. I promise,’ said Scott.
She held on to Scott tighter, and walked with him as he turned right. Together they made their way along a carpeted hallway. A tall man wearing a black leather jacket was coming the other way.
‘It’s okay,’ said Scott.
And it was. With every step, Ruth reminded herself that she was safe. No one was going to harm her. Not while Scott was here.
Yet her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. That feeling of being watched, like a cold blade on the back of her neck.
At the end of the hallway, a young greeter brought them into the restaurant and settled them at a table in the corner, just as Scott had requested. Ruth sat with her back to the wall, the whole restaurant in front of her. There was a decent crowd, but still a few empty tables. It was a good restaurant for a hotel. Great food served well at the Paramount earned them a loyal clientele. White linen tablecloths, subdued lighting, candles and silver and all manned by staff who were warm and efficient. The waiter poured water for them both while Scott scanned the wine list.
‘None for me, please, but you go ahead and order whatever you’d like,’ said Ruth.
‘Not even one glass with dinner?’ asked Scott. ‘It might help you relax.’
Ruth shook her head. The last time she’d had a drink was that night. And she never wanted to touch it again. Besides, she felt it might interfere with her meds. So far, they were holding her upright and she didn’t want to test that.
Scott closed the wine list, said, ‘I’ll just have a glass of the Malbec, please.’
The waiter thanked him and left them with dinner menus and a promise that someone would be along to explain the specials.
