But with such a powerful explosion, there was no doubt the woman inside knew something went very wrong. So why wasn’t she trying to get out?
Special Agent Drasco stood a few feet away with three other dark suits, quietly talking on his cell phone.
“Ethan. Here!” Chief Holton handed me a crowbar.
I stood up and hooked it under the edge of the door.
A guy from the drilling crew carried another crowbar. He walked to the opposite side and did the same.
“If it doesn’t budge easily, we might need to try the excavation machinery to lift that door up,” Chief Holton announced. “By the looks of it, it’s too thick to spring free with the tools.
“Yeah. We can’t even make a dent,” I murmured, repositioning the crowbar. “Let’s get the tow equipment in here.”
At that moment I heard a muffled sound like a distant scraping, coming from the trap door. Everyone else around us must’ve heard it, too, because the quiet conversations ceased, and we all gaped in that direction.
The door slowly lifted an inch and then a few more. I was kneeling right by it, so I grasped the handle with one hand and hauled up the door, opening it completely. A pair of wide-open, bright-green eyes stared at me from under a shock of dark, tangled curls covered by a thin hood of her jacket. Lush, pink lips parted slightly, but not a sound came out.
“Miss Glass.” Cornell stooped down, his hands on his knees. “I’m Special Agent Cornell, FBI. This is Captain McCoy and Chief Holton, both from the Portland Fire Department.
The green eyes darted from Cornell’s face to mine to Holton’s and back to mine. They locked with my eyes, holding me hostage, spellbinding me with almost a child-like intensity. God, she was gorgeous, breathtaking even, with her pale complexion highlighted with a little splash of a natural pink over her high cheekbones. Those green eyes were huge, framed in thick, long lashes. She was scared, too; I could sense it, although she fought not to show it. She bit on her lower lip to keep it from trembling.
I extended my hand to her. “We’re here to help, Miss. Are you hurt? The paramedics can see you now.”
She took my hand. “My name is Gloria,” the girl whispered. Her skin was warm against mine, her hand fitting perfectly inside my hand.
“I’m Ethan,” I whispered back. Why was I whispering?
“What happened here? It was horrible to be down in the bunker and not know.” She looked around, her eyes wide.
“There was an explosion. I’m sure the FBI agents will explain everything to you.”
“Where is Special Agent Vera? Special Agent Kolaski?”
I slowly shook my head from side to side. “The whole structure was leveled. Nobody survived. I’m sorry.”
She stared at me, open-mouthed, and then said, “Gone? They’re gone?” She looked away. “I slept in the safe room, as always. Special Agent Vera told me to secure the door last night and only open it when instructed by her or Special Agent Kolaski. How... what caused the explosion?”
“We don’t know yet. Here, let me help you out. Careful now.” I gently grasped her elbow with my other hand. She had small bones and not much meat over them.
Before climbing out, she hastily pulled her hood down, concealing her face.
Chief Holton and one of the feds were on Gloria’s other side, trying to assist with guiding her out of the chamber, but she pushed herself up, swinging one knee out onto the ground covered with chunks of concrete and other debris. She still held onto my hand, though, squeezing it hard until it hurt.
I winced. For such a slim woman, she packed some muscle, at least in her grip.
The feds swarmed around us like black crows. Special Agent Cornell was quietly asking her questions and declaring her absolute safety. Gloria shied away from them. A deep frown settled between her dark brows, while her delicate mouth curved down as if in resolve to block out his assurances.
“Are you a paramedic?” she asked me hopefully. “I feel nauseous.” She was shaking and pleaded with her eyes.
I wrapped my turnout coat over her shoulders, and she accepted it with a look of gratitude on her face. “Yes, ma’am, I’m trained as a paramedic.”
Drasco came up to Gloria and said quietly, “Miss Glass. As soon as you’re checked by the EMTs, I have an order to take you to an undisclosed location.
“No!” she backed up, bumping into me.
The contact made my body aware of her even more than before. The top of her hood brushed the spot under my chin, and a shiver ran through me.
“No. I want to be left alone. Do not follow me,” she said without moving away from me. She looked straight at Drasco. “I was promised absolute protection. Is this what you call safety?” Gloria angrily motioned around.
“Miss Glass,” Cornell hissed. “Not here. Not with the witnesses around, please.”
“Fine,” she murmured.
“Let me take you to the rescue rig.” I touched her back.
She nodded, and we walked away. Chief Holton and the feds went with us. Two of our EMTs were by her side already, but she seemed to want to stay close to me. That wasn’t too surprising. I was used to women gravitating toward me, as if I reeked of pheromones. Hell, I probably did. But there was something different about this girl. I had no idea what, and it was unnerving to be so confused about a woman.
Chapter Three
GLORIA
This was unreal. I was scared out of my mind. They told me the whole structure was blown away. I was the only survivor. Special Agents Vera and Kolaski—two women I became good friends with—were gone. Gone! Both of them dead! I was assured complete safety and protection. Now I didn’t know anymore whom I could trust. Anyone? Who? I had to get the hell out of there and withdraw my statement. No witness—no danger to my life. But could I do it? Could I live with myself, knowing for the rest of my life that I let the rapists and the murderer of my friend walk free?
“Please sit down here.” A paramedic guy who looked like a middle school kid motioned to the bench.
I glanced back. That firefighter, Ethan, was there too. I wanted him to stay. I didn’t want to go with the FBI. I couldn’t. Not after what happened last night. I didn’t believe them. Lies. All lies!
Ethan sat across from me. He watched me as if trying to read my mind. There was something about him that made my anxiety quiet down a notch. Or more than a notch. Every time I peeked at him, I felt calmer. Was this trust? How could it be? I just met him. I didn’t even know him. But it was a strong feeling of... hope? I was so confused, so terribly scared. I didn’t know what I should do anymore or whom should I trust? Where should I go now to be safe?
The paramedics got busy with me, but I couldn’t even concentrate on what they were doing. It was as if all my attention was spent on Ethan, because otherwise I would start thinking of what has happened to me in the last two weeks.
I knew I had to keep my anxiety at bay. I felt I was about to turn into a shaky, frightened-out-of-my-mind ball of goo. I hated that feeling. I hated not being in control. Ever since that night when the gang raped and murdered Helen, my friend and college roommate, I was at someone else’s mercy, all the time, never in control, never at ease. And now the explosion? That wasn’t an accident. That was them! They were doing this. They wanted to kill me to get rid of the only witness.
I’ve been in hiding for two weeks, scared and unable to function normally. The FBI witness protection program moved me from Florida, where I attended USF to this safe house in Portland. I didn’t know anyone here which didn’t matter since my real identity was not to be revealed. The only people close to being my friends were Special Agents Vera and Kolaski, who stayed in the safe house with me. And now they were gone too.
I wrapped my arms around myself and sunk my head between my shoulders, shutting out everything around me.
He was by my side in an instant, touching my elbow. “Gloria, are you okay? Do you need to lay down?” His low voice was soothing with hoarse edges to it.
Please keep talking to me. Just keep talking.
My breathing was shallow and ragged.
“Let’s give her oxygen,” Ethan said to one of the paramedics.
A moment later I was getting oxygen from a portable tank. The paramedic woman whose name tag read Chris eased me down onto the bench. I obliged and lay down. I was light-headed. They both hovered over me for a moment. Ethan’s brows were pinched together, his eyes dark and focused on my face.
I drew a deep, shuddering breath to compose myself. My heart thudded relentlessly in my chest. Was that from being so scared? Or... no, I wasn’t scared now. Not with Ethan so close to me. He made me feel safe. But he also intimidated me.
This was insane! How could he make me feel safe? I didn’t know him or his intentions. But he was a firefighter, so he was the good guy, right? He was here to help. This was his job. But it was the job of the FBI to help and protect me, as well. They failed big time. I started to shake again. My teeth chattered, and I squeezed my eyes tight.
Ethan’s hand was on my forehead. “Your skin feels clammy,” he said. He encased my wrist in his long, slim fingers and looked at his watch. “Stay still,” he demanded.
A shiver ran through me. I wasn’t cold though. I was actually too warm, even the oxygen wasn’t doing much good. My heart wouldn’t stop wanting to jump out of my chest, and my breathing got shallow and fast again. A forceful tone of his voice wasn’t helping either.
Ethan looked in my eyes. “Her pulse is racing,” he said to the paramedics without taking his eyes off mine.
His features were strong and masculine, his jet-black hair shiny, like raven’s feathers. I noticed how his Fire-Department issued white t-shirt stretched tight across his sculpted chest and shoulders while hanging loosely around his waist. Below the short sleeves of the shirt bulged his biceps, and thick veins ran through his arms and hands. He wore the bulky firefighter pants and heavy boots, but even those couldn’t disguise his lean body.
He caught me gaping at him and smiled a little, as if trying to say that it’s okay, that I’m in good hands. Or so I wanted desperately to believe.
Chris, the paramedic came to check on me. “How are you doing, Miss? Are you still dizzy?” She was about my build and height. Her blond hair was very short, almost completely shaved. A large tattoo of a snake curled over her left arm and wrist. Another snake tattoo ran from the top of her head, behind her ear, and wrapped itself around her neck, with its head disappearing under her shirt.
“I’m better. Thank you.” I pulled the oxygen mask from my nose and mouth.
“You might want to keep this on for a bit longer, Miss,” she advised.
I didn’t want to have it on my face. Strangely, I felt self-conscious. What a weird thing to feel in this situation. This was so bizarre. “I’m fine. I don’t need this anymore.” I shook my head.
“Will be right back.” Ethan abruptly stood up and left.
Chris took my pulse again. “All your vitals are good except for your pulse, which is understandable. You’re under a lot of stress.”
“Where did Ethan go? Is he coming back?”
She looked somberly at me. “Do you know him? I mean, have you known him before?”
“No,” I said, sounding suspicious. Why would she ask me that?
She sighed. “You should to go to the hospital, even though everything seems to check out fine.”
Changing the subject, right?
“No hospital.” That I knew for sure—I wasn’t going anywhere the gang could get me. They could easily find me in a hospital. Even if the feds had their agents there on watch. There was no way I would continue relying on the FBI’s protection. But how could I get out of testifying against the guys who raped and murdered Helen? I pressed my hands to my face, cupping them over my eyes, shutting out the outside world.
She asked quietly, “Are you okay? You can talk to me. My name is Christina. Chris for short.”
I caught a glimpse of her concerned face from between my fingers. She must have thought I was behaving like a child. But the truth was, I was scared again; my heart was racing, and I felt like screaming from the top of my lungs. Scared, scared, scared!
Ethan climbed in. In two long strides he was beside me. Christina stepped aside. He clapped her on the back and then kneeled by me.
“Hey,” he said, gently pulling my hands away from my face. “It’s okay.” His hands felt warm and strong. “My Chief talked with the feds. The Bureau is already investigating the explosion. They’re taking you to some new, undisclosed location.”
I only shook my head, unable to speak. He kept my hands in his, and I couldn’t think of anything else but the warmth that seeped from his skin to mine. It was like a drug, and I didn’t care that I knew nothing about this man. I needed a distraction from all the horrors I’ve been through. But there were more horrors in my future. I was sure of that. Could I face them alone? Did I have to face them alone? Yes, the unfortunate truth was this: I had nobody I could turn to for help. I was on my own.
Chris stepped out of the vehicle. “I need to find the Chief. Will be back in a sec.”
The other paramedic had gone a few minutes before. I was alone with Ethan.
“Gloria, listen to me. You have options, but you need to think this through. Do you have a lawyer? And anyone you trust to take you in? A family member or a good friend?”
“I have a lawyer.” I nodded. “But I can’t go to any of my friends. I don’t want to put anyone in danger.”
“Family then?”
I hesitated. I’ve never known my biological father. He, most likely, had no idea he had a daughter. I learned that from my mom’s journal, which was given to me, even though at the time of her death I was only three years old. All of my grandparents were long dead. I was raised in foster homes until my amazing guardian professor Tolinski adopted me. But he was gone now too. According to Mom’s journal, I had a great aunt somewhere in Denmark, but I’ve never tried to contact her. She was probably dead as well. “No family.”
Ethan’s eyebrows knitted together. A deep crease formed between them. He looked away for a moment, as if sinking intensely in thought. “There must be somewhere you can stay. If not, you’re better off with the FBI. They can protect you, take you to another safe house—”
“No way,” I interrupted. “I can’t rely on them. I...” the tears prickled my eyes, and I felt a sob building up in my chest. Crap, last thing I would let myself do was to cry in front of this guy. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath, getting myself under control. “Look, I can handle this.” I had no idea how, but the words of confidence were more for my own benefit than his.
Ethan ran his hand through his hair, disheveling it even more than it was before. He stood up, laced his fingers at the back of his neck with his elbows out, and walked around the rig, clenching his jaw. Finally he stopped and looked at the entrance. “Where the fuck is Chris? Wait here.”
Before I even opened my mouth to say something, he disappeared outside. Chris came back a moment after Ethan stepped out. I suspected she left to give us room to talk.
“Here, drink this.” She gave me a plastic bottle of water. I thanked her and drank half of it in just a few gulps. I didn’t even realize how thirsty I was.
“Doing better?” she asked.
“I guess.” I was becoming numb, which I welcomed with relief. The last few hours killed me—if not physically then mentally for sure. My situation was serious. I had no options. There was no way this attack was random. Someone knew exactly where I was hidden, and such information could be obtained only from one source—the FBI. There was a snitch, and I wasn’t stupid to hope otherwise.
Chris made a motion to check my pulse, but I waived her off. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”
She nodded. “Can I get you anything? We don’t have any real food in here, but if you’re hungry I can scramble a power bar or two.”
“Thanks, Chris. That’s very thoughtful of you, but
I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to eat anything.”
“I understand.”
I took another sip of water.
Ethan came back. He didn’t look happy. He said something quietly to Chris, and she responded in low whisper. I couldn’t make out the words, but I had a feeling they were talking about me. Chris gave me a fleeting glance and quickly looked away, nodding to whatever Ethan was murmuring to her. That was unbearable. What the hell?
“Hey,” I said. “Am I interrupting something?”
They both turned to look at me. I was pissed, and I didn’t make any effort to hide it. What would be the point? Everyone was freaking inconvenienced by my existence. But I was a fighter. I wasn’t done living, regardless of the crap raining down on me. I decided years ago that I’m never going to be a helpless mess, no matter what life throws at me. Although, everything that was happening to me now could break even the strongest. Nevertheless, I pushed that thought aside.
Wordlessly, Chris left the rig. Ethan crossed his strong arms over his chest. His biceps bulged, and his t-shirt tightened even more around his pectorals. The guy was gorgeous. I couldn’t deny it.
“So? What’s the story?” I asked. My voice sounded steely and pissed, and that was exactly how I felt.
“There is someone outside who wants to talk with you,” Ethan informed me.
He was calm, and I wished I could feel as unruffled. But then again, Ethan wasn’t on a powerful gang’s hit list. I was.
“Who is it this time? The FBI?”
“Not the FBI, but they want you to talk with him.” Ethan walked to the entrance, stuck his head out, and motioned to someone to enter before leaving the rig.
Great. What now? I bet they had some asshat here to convince me to stay in the FBI witness protection plan.
A middle-aged, overweight man with thin wire glasses set on the bridge of a big nose entered the rig. His hair was sparse and tied into a long, skinny ponytail at the nape of his neck.
The XOXO New Adult Collection: 16 Full Length New Adult Stories Page 182