Page 8 of The Hangman's Rope
God, being a woman sucked. There were so many more things for us to fear than death.
I took in a deep breath and huffed it out. Grim frowned and looked back over his shoulder just as the two men in the hall pushed their way back through the doors.
“About fucking time,” he growled at them.
“Keep your fucking panties on,” the menacing one said.
“What are you going to do with me?” I asked, afraid.
“You’re going with Hangman.” The man pulled off his sunglasses and fixed me with eyes as cold and hard as obsidian.
“Lorelai…”
I started to turn my head in the direction of Hangman’s voice but my eyes remained locked on the dark gaze that’d captured mine. I swear, the look in those eyes was so cold it could burn.
“Lorelai,” Hangman tried again, his voice patient.
I managed to look at him and he raked me up and down with his gaze and said softly, “You’re good. It’ll be okay. I promise. Now, come here.”
I took a halting step, and faltered, realizing he could be lying. But out of everyone in the room, he seemed the surest and the calmest and I would much rather take my chances with him than with anyone else. I went to him, hugging myself, and he put an arm around me, guiding me toward those double doors.
“That’s it?” I asked softly. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” he said gently. “You’re okay in this moment. Right now. I promise. One step at a time. Cool?”
I nodded a bit too rapidly and said, “Uh, sure… where are we going?”
“Not far, I promise,” he said.
“Okay.”
I let him guide me past the other two men, and I couldn’t help but hunch my shoulders when we passed the sinister one who looked down on me impassively as we went by.
“Don’t worry about him,” Hangman told me after we’d gone through the double doors. “He’s always gotta play lord of the manor.”
“Who is he?” I asked.
“I promise to answer what questions I can, later. Right now, let’s get you up top and out where it’s warm. You’re going to have to tread carefully. It’s about two blocks from here to where we’re going. Don’t try to run. Iwillcatch you,” he said. It didn’t sound like a threat, but more just a statement of fact. Still, it made me shiver.
He punched a button on a service elevator right outside the doors and they swooshed open for us. The floor of it was that diamond patterned steel, but it was warm beneath my feet. Much warmer than the cold linoleum.
“What is this place?” I asked nervously, half-afraid he wouldn’t tell me, half-afraid hewould.
“It’s a funeral home.”
“You’re joking,” I said in disbelief. He punched the only other button above the one glowing for what floor we were on and said, “Nope. Afraid not. You were set for cremation.”
I stared at him and he looked back at me impassively.
“Why?” I asked. “Who?” I followed up quickly.
“Your guess is as good as ours, honey. You’re seeing and hearing a lot of shit that you shouldn’t be right now. Somebody thought you were dead. Maybewantedyou dead, but for damn sure wanted you disposed of quickly.”
“Why are you helping me?” I asked, voice trembling.
“You could be useful,” he said honestly.
I didn’t think I wanted to know more. Instead, as the elevator, which was agonizingly slow, bumped to a stop, I decided it might be better if I just kept my mouth shut. If I just waited to see what would happen next.
