My nerves feel all fluttery but I'm not going to get anywhere sitting in my car. I have to get out eventually. If I don't, they'll just come get me.
I'm here now.
There's no going back from here.
I have to hope something good comes out of this, because whatever waits for me on the other side of that red door, I'm going to have to face it alone.
Pushing the car door open, I climb out on shaky legs. Flashes of my life come back to me, flashes of Paul, of curling up in a dark room under blankets, crying by myself. As much as I want to save Liam, I can't shake the feeling that I'm crazy for being here.
I pad up the stretch of concrete, searching for movement.
Nothing.
I really, really don't want to, but I push the red door the rest of the way open. It creaks and I grimace, my eyes darting around as if the sound may have summoned someone.
The lights aren't on inside and the vast, shadowy space does nothing to ease my jittery nerves.
I don't know where to go. My steps slow and I look around for direction.
There's still no one so I keep walking toward the back, toward more doors.
Nervous butterflies ravage my insides, worse with each step I take. The urge to turn around and run is so strong, I almost do it.
I don't know which door to choose once I reach them. I'm torn between not wanting to announce my presence, and wanting to call out and get it over with.
I pick a door at random—the third—and push it open. It opens into another dark, narrower space. It's chilly inside, obviously no heat, and I want to leave. So badly.
I follow the hall around a corner and it's narrower again, this time with doors all down the corridor on the left and right.
"You've gotta be kidding me," I whisper to myself.
I decide to turn back.
Before I make it back around the corner, however, I hear a door open and close behind me.
Spinning around, I move my back closer to the wall.
It's Paul.
Fucking Paul.
He smiles when he sees me, and proceeds to meander after me like he doesn't have a problem in the world. I guess, with me gone, maybe he doesn't.
"There's my stunning wife," he mocks.
I remember Pietro promising I won't have to go back with Paul. His word may be flimsy at best, but it's all I've got.
"Where is he?" I call to him, uncomfortable that he's coming closer.
"Pietro?"
"Liam."
Some of the smugness on his face falls, bitter resentment slipping into its place. "Thor's been grounded."
I resist the urge to taunt him. "I want to see him. That was the deal."
"Oh, you'll see him," he assures me, giving me the creeps.