“She always said you were all talk, no action.”
“All talk, no action.” His voice echoed in his ears. Distant and flat.
The words turned into Ellora’s words, leaving his mouth in her high-pitched tone. “All talk, no action.”
The clock on the wall ticked off the seconds. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.
“Ellora would be shocked,” Anderson repeated, his voice his own once again.
“Anderson, are you counting?”
One, two, three, four.
One, two, three, four.
He looked down at his fingers, but they were invisible. Gone.
“I feel weird.” The words were little more than a whisper. “Something is wrong.”
“Don’t let your illness lie to you. You’re safe here. You’re safe.”
Anderson surrendered to the heaviness in his eyelids and let them flutter closed. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he nodded slowly, just once. When he opened his eyes, the room had grown darker than before. Still sitting across from him, the doctor’s gaze was intent. Anderson’s compulsive urges faded in response. “I’m safe here.”
“The party is starting soon. You should go. Show Ellora that you’re a man of action.”
“A man of action.” Anderson shook his head, blinking rapidly. Wiping a hand over his face, he gasped when the room shifted out of focus, then snapped back into place with painful detail. “What was in that pill?”
The doctor chuckled. “The pill was your standard prescription.” He took an orange bottle out of his pocket and handed it to Anderson.
“This bottle is orange.” Anderson turned it over in his hand, counting the pills. There were four.
“The bottle has your name on it. It is your medicine, Anderson.”
Anderson frowned, tilting the bottle to one side, then the other. “There are too many in here.”
“How did you like that water?”
Anderson swayed with the beat of the ticking clock. “It was good.”
The doctor turned to the shadow in the darkness, just outside the circle of light. “Water is a much better delivery system. A little flavoring and it’s undetectable.”
“Who are you talking to?” Anderson asked.
“My intern.” The doctor stood and motioned toward the door. “You need to go. The party is starting.”
“The party is starting.”
The doctor’s gaze met his, unwavering and filled with pride. “Show them you’re a man of action.”
“A man of action.”
“They’ll know Ellora drove you to it. They’ll know what kind of monster she is.”
Anderson laughed, the sound coming out like a cackle. “She’ll be so embarrassed.”
“She said you’re sick, that you need help. Show her who you really are.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Go. Don’t disappoint me, Anderson.”
Anderson scowled, offended that the doctor would ever think he would disappoint him. “Yes, Doctor.”
Anderson stood, car keys already out and in his hand. His eyes closed for an instant, and he was somehow in the parking lot, starting the engine. Damn, he was good. The radio played softly, the low, pleasantly familiar notes skipping forward in the song with reckless abandon.
Time skipped with the music, and he was exiting the freeway, coasting to a stop. The song had changed, the warm harmonies of a full string quartet giving way to a piano concerto.
Floating on the memory of the music, his hand was on the door to his building. The symphony was gone, replaced by humming that followed his every step. It echoed in the hall where the elevator waited, its mouth yawning wide, light bursting from inside it.
Anderson hesitated, but only for a moment. He didn’t remember the elevator looking so much like a monster rising from the depths of Hell.
Man of action.
As the doors slid open, metal scraping as they shuddered along the warped track, Anderson was surprised that the monster hadn’t swallowed him whole. Forcing his eyes to stay open, he carefully placed one foot in front of the other and wound his way through the long hallway that led to McBride Industries. The double doors were propped open, the afterhours party already in full swing.
Ellora stood just inside the doors that led to a wide balcony that encircled the inner courtyard on all four sides. Four. Four fingers. Four stories down to the fountain.
How eloquent.
What wasn’t eloquent were the party decorations. Balloons with storks and babies all over the blue and pink.
He blinked in surprise. Was the retirement party over, a baby shower taking its place?
He didn’t care.
He cared about one thing. Being a man of action.
Marching forward, Anderson walked up behind the brunette and snagged the champagne glass from her hand. This was his, now. His and no others.
Ellora’s mouth formed a shocked o as she turned. “Hey! Anderson, what the hell are you doing?”
He downed the entire drink in one quick gulp. It wasn’t champagne at all. Sparkling apple juice maybe? He didn’t care. He cared about only thing.
“You’re going to be surprised.”
Ellora’s face was a mixture of disgust and unease. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m a man of action.”
He grabbed her wrist, yanking the petite woman forward and through the double glass doors. He stopped only long enough to wedge a heavy metal chair against the door between them and his fellow employees. It wouldn’t buy him a lot of time, but he didn’t need much.
“What are you—”
He whirled on her and squeezed her arm so hard he could feel the bone pressing into his palm. “You mocked me and called me names. You drove me to it. I’m a man of action, Ellora.”
“Stop! You’re not making sense.” She twisted her arm in his grasp, trying to pull away, but Anderson dug his fingers deeper into her skin. “You’re hurting me.”
He took a step toward the railing, pulling her with him. She stumbled in her ridiculous heels.
“The wind will take your breath away. You’ll move so fast you won’t be able to draw air into your lungs.”
“Anderson, stop!” Her voice was more of a screech. “What are you doing?”
“The party is starting.” Another step closer. “It’s your party, Ellora. Your going away party.”
Her face contorted as she began to cry, struggling anew against his iron grip. “Please don’t do this, Anderson. They lied to you.
