EIGHT

Daniel was sitting with his head nestled in the palm of his hands and pulling at the roots of his hair when he heard a scream.

“LET GO OF ME!”

That did it! Who dared to interrupt his train of thoughts? He groaned and sprang onto his grey socked feet – he’d kicked off his shoes earlier in frustration like a little boy, and stormed out of the room in search of the source of the voice.

There was only one other room along this secluded corridor and it was from the room that lay a few feet down. The black door was closed but as an angry Daniel approached it, he heard muffled sounds coming from behind the walls and just as he was about to barge in and give the insolent fools a piece of his mind, out ran the same waitress who had bumped into him earlier on. Jane, he remembered her name. How could he not remember her? That woman was breathtakingly beautiful, like a breath of fresh air in an early spring morning.

He instinctively caught her by the shoulders as