by Barb Han
Blake reached her and grabbed her by the arm. She almost checked his breath to see if he’d been drinking. She checked her phone instead. Seven messages that escalated in warnings. The first instructed her to turn around and go back to the hotel.
The second unanswered text sounded more desperate, telling her to stay in the parking lot. Eventually, he was downright begging her to respond and let him know she was okay. Okay, this was so not good.
The day had been a train wreck so far and she forgot that she’d turned off her phone notifications. It was a habit she’d picked up. She’d done it without thinking. During her second year as an adjunct professor, Kinsley had been burned by answering the phone right before walking into class.
What she’d expected to be a call about plans for later turned into her boyfriend of a year breaking up with her. Mike Anderson, the man she’d naively believed was going to propose to her had decided the two of them had no future.
She’d barely made it through her lecture and, from that day on, turned off notifications on her phone so she’d never take another call right before a lecture.
In retrospect, thank the stars she and Mike had gone separate ways. At the time, she hadn’t held the same sentiment.
Up close to Blake, she could see stress cracks on his face.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked as he rushed those last couple of steps to reach her. He grabbed her elbow to nudge her toward the side of the building with so much force her arm jerked forward.
“Blake? You better start talking to me,” she insisted.
“We shouldn’t be here.”
Chapter 3
The idea to launch her book talk at the 9-11 Tribute room of the Presidential Library had been Blake’s baby. Blake was losing it. With him standing so close she could feel his hands trembling. He’d left behind a career working for a big PR and Advertising firm in order to strike out on his own and her friend from college was making her launch his first big splash as an independent.
“What are you talking about?” She was starting to get really worried.
He lowered his chin to his chest and leaned in closer to her. He seemed frightened, like if anyone heard what he was about to say the place might blow up.
“Blake, you’re scaring me.” She stumbled and nearly tripped over her own feet in her expensive shoes. She wasn’t used to walking in those let alone being rushed, actually it felt more like she was being herded.
“They know you’re here. There’s someone out there…” Blake mumbled something she could hear or maybe it was unintelligible. His erratic behavior and wild eyes gave her the impression he was on something. It wasn’t like Blake to take medication.
For a split-second she wondered about his mental health. She leaned in to check for the smell of alcohol even though she knew better. Blake was a friend. And he was far too professional to drink on the job.
“Who are they?” Before Kinsley could ask what they had figured out she heard an unfamiliar sound. A pshshshsh noise and then a crack in the air.
One of Blake’s legs gave, and he immediately dipped down. Kinsley grabbed his arm and held him upright. She saw blood splatter on the white concrete block in front of them.
The facts registered. Blake had been shot. The two of them were still vulnerable. Her pulse skyrocketed as her fight, flight or freeze instinct kicked in. Hers came in the form of flight as the horror of what was happening slammed into her like a rogue wave on a sunny beach.
Someone screamed. Another person practically elbowed his way past them jabbing her ribs on the left side. Kinsley sprinted toward the glass doors. Her fingers dug into Blake’s flesh as she pulled him along with her. There was no way she was leaving him behind.
She’d been trained to deal with a campus shooter in the event here was one. Why couldn’t she think of one thing to do now?
“I’m shot,” he said, and his voice sounded hollow.
She’d been given a training video on how to deal with an active shooter in the classroom when she signed onto teach full time. The shots came from somewhere behind them. Being outside made them both vulnerable. She had to get her and Blake inside the building.
In the reflection of the glass doors, she saw a pair of men wearing ski masks coming up behind the two of them.
“We can’t stay here, Blake.” She pulled on the door handles fruitlessly. “Come on.”
“You have to go,” he said. “I’ll try to distract them.”
“Absolutely not,” she argued.
“They want you not me. You can’t stick around.” There was no way she was leaving him.
“I’m not going without you.” And then it dawned on her that he might be better off without her.
A siren pierced the air as she reached the double doors. She gripped the handle and pulled. A click sounded. The door barely moved. Locked? No, this couldn’t be happening. She tried again and again with the same result. The building must have a lockdown feature because a crowbar couldn’t pry those doors open.
A couple ran up beside Kinsley, panic etched in their faces. They gripped the bar, too. What was it about emergencies that caused people to try things multiple times even though it was obvious doing the same thing over and over again wasn’t going to work?
“Help him.” She motioned toward Blake. “Please.”
The female, she looked to be barely nineteen, mouthed an, “I’m sorry,” before her partner pulled her in the opposite direction. The two of them took off running at a full sprint.
There was nowhere for Kinsley to go because the pair of men wearing ski masks were directly behind her now and it was clear their intent was on her.
Slate eyes bore holes into the back of her head. She had no weapons except her book and her handbag. She spun around ready to fight. Blake braced himself by leaning against the window and sinking down. His body went limp as his face contorted in pain.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Blake,” she said as she tucked the book under her arm and balled her fists, so she’d be ready for action.
Out of seemingly nowhere, a third figure appeared. Shock didn’t begin to describe her feelings as the large—familiar?—man charged toward them. He wore battle fatigues and a black baseball cap. She couldn’t get a clear view of his face.
He dispatched the man to Kinsley’s right in a matter of seconds with what looked like a Taser. Whatever he’d used was probably more sophisticated than something she could buy over the counter based on how fast the target went down at contact and how much he jerked around like electricity was pinging through his body searching for an outlet. The second ski mask wearer rounded on the larger man—a man she couldn’t get a good look at with all the arms flying. He’d ducked down low and was ramming himself into her attacker.
“Get out of here,” came a direct order. Kinsley instantly knew that voice. It looped her into a time warp that shot her back to a past she no longer wanted to be connected to and sent shock reverberating through her body.
“Gabriel.” The word came out on a gasp.
“Go. Do what I said,” Gabriel ordered as he wrestled Ski Mask to the ground. The first man wearing a ski mask was still convulsing on the ground, twitching.
“You know that guy?” Blake pushed against the glass, making an attempt to stand.
Every time Gabriel looked like he would pin Ski Mask down the man would twist or turn and knock Gabriel off balance. At first blush, Gabriel looked to be in charge, but she feared that could change in an instant. She didn’t want to leave him there to fight alone if she could help no matter how much his presence threw her off in the first place.
Half a dozen questions battled for attention. This wasn’t the time for logic and reasoning. She needed to act quickly either to help Gabriel or get Blake the heck out of there.
“Leave,” came out on a decisive grunt from Gabriel. His tone left no room for doubt that he was serious.
“We gotta go.” Kinsley helped Blake to his feet. He see
med to be in shock and, glancing down at the pavement, he’d lost a lot of blood.
But then Ski Mask managed to flip Gabriel onto his back.
Kinsley was torn. Did she stay and help Gabriel or get Blake to safety? The guy convulsing would most likely gain his senses soon and then it’d be two against one. Leaving felt like abandoning Gabriel. Her heart squeezed at the thought.
“Hold on,” she said to Blake.
He grasped at the door handle to hold himself upright. Kinsley looked for something to use as a weapon. There wasn’t anything but the book and her purse. She tucked the book inside, grabbed the straps and nailed Ski Mask a couple of times in the back of the head. She couldn’t feel sorry for the gash on his head when moments ago he’d tried to kill her and Blake was bleeding out from being shot.
Gabriel bucked Ski Mask off him and rolled over on top of the guy.
“Get the hell out of here,” Gabriel demanded. She knew he wasn’t being a jerk. He was trying to save her life. His rebuke still stung. Hurt feelings were useless, inappropriate and totally out of place under the circumstances.
One look at Blake’s pale skin and the amount of blood he was losing made the decision clear. There was no way she could stick around. He needed medical aid. At least she’d helped narrow the odds for Gabriel. He was back on top of the mystery attacker.
“Lean on me,” she said to Blake as the two pushed toward the side of the building. Blake was heavy and she could only thank her adrenaline burst for getting them this far. Raw strength alone wouldn’t have cut it.
A young man—he looked about the age of one of her students—hurried over and took some of Blake’s weight as she rounded the corner with him. Relief washed over her as security flooded the area coming from what looked like all angles.
Kinsley couldn’t begin to process the fact that she’d just been shot at, nearly attacked and had seen Gabriel again. Part of her, a very large part, wanted to go back and make sure he’d survived, that he was okay.
The last she’d heard about him after graduation and that horrible car accident was that he’d signed up for the military like he’d said he was going to. The Army. She didn’t begrudge him serving the country. She admired him for his service. Leaving her in the hospital without so much as saying goodbye had devastated her teenage heart.
Kinsley refocused. She was an adult now. She’d gotten over him. Right?
Wow, her mind was all over the place. It was probably the situation that had her normally logical mind in chaos. Her body reacted to seeing Gabriel again, too. But she didn’t want to go there.
“Thank you for helping,” she said to the young man who was easing Blake onto the grass so he could sit down.
Within a few seconds emergency personnel formed a circle around them. She looked up and saw a ring of gun barrels pointed at them. Her heart pounded her ribs and the world shrank. It seemed like all the air had been sucked out the universe and she struggled to breathe.
“He’s hurt. Help him, please,” she said.
“Hands where I can see ’em,” an armed guard demanded.
Kinsley’s focus became like a laser on the man as she thrust her hands in the air. “My name is Kinsley Greer and I’m here to give a talk about my book. On the ground is my publicist, Blake Henderson. And he’s been shot. Please help him.”
“On the ground,” the steady voice demanded. His gun was drawn on her.
Her pulse raced as she did what he said.
“Face down and keep your hands where I can see ’em,” the gruff voice barked.
This man had the wrong idea, but she didn’t argue. She didn’t like the thought he could be trigger happy. She’d never even remotely been in a situation like this in the past, so she had no experience to draw on.
“My friend is bleeding. Please, help him,” was all she shouted.
“These two are with me.” Gabriel’s deep timbre vibrated through her, warming places she knew better than to allow. “Let ’em up and get that man medical attention.”
“Yes, sir,” the guard said.
As Kinsley looked up her heart took a huge hit. Gabriel was beside Blake, helping him roll over onto his back.
Kinsley moved opposite Gabriel and focused on her friend, ignoring the heat bouncing off Gabriel. The Army had filled him out and given him muscles in places she didn’t realize there could be.
“We’ll get this taken care of and you’ll be good as new.” Gabriel was on his knees, his size dwarfed Blake. The image of him comforting her friend brought an odd sensation over Kinsley. She pushed it aside as unproductive and inappropriate.
Kinsley’s finger went up to the scar and trailed along it before she reminded herself to cut it out. She’d caught herself doing the same thing any time stress became almost too much to handle or her stress meter shot through the roof. She’d made a conscious effort to break the habit.
Gabriel was being a rock for Blake and she appreciated him for it. She had a dozen questions on the tip of her tongue but giving Gabriel the space to make sure Blake got the medical attention he needed was her priority.
“Get me an EMT,” Gabriel shouted like he was the one in charge.
Speaking of which, why did he seem like he was the one being listened to? She’d ask him that and a few other questions later, after Blake was stabilized and she made sure she wasn’t trapped in some bizarre nightmare.
“Ouch.” Blake wrapped his hands underneath his injured knee and winced in pain.
“This is going to hurt like hell until the doctor gets some good pain meds in you, which won’t be long.” She didn’t want to know why Gabriel knew so much about taking a bullet but reason told her his time in the military had taught him that and more.
“How long until I get something for pain?” Blake looked Gabriel in the eyes. Her friend’s skin was pale. Kinsley had never felt so helpless. She didn’t like it.
“It’s coming.” Gabriel motioned toward the guard from earlier.
The man came running.
Another thing Kinsley wasn’t sure she wanted to know the reason for. Gabriel was clearly used to being the one in charge of situations like this. She also wanted to ask him who those men were. She wanted to ask Blake what he was talking about earlier. She wanted answers.
But all of that would have to wait until she knew Blake would be okay.
Within a few minutes of Gabriel’s chat with the guard, the three of them were being escorted inside the building.
This whole experience was surreal. None of this could be happening. Kinsley’s brain couldn’t fathom guns being pointed at her, Blake being shot, or seeing Gabriel again. The eyes of one of the masked men would most likely haunt her for the rest of her life. Those dead slate-colored eyes.
“It’s the shock,” Gabriel said to her. He looked at her like he was looking right through her and could see what was going on inside her head.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She blinked at him, trying to provide a curtain to her thoughts.
“The reason everything feels like it’s hitting you all at once and nothing’s sinking in. The shock of what happened is wearing off. Your adrenaline is fading and your brain can’t begin to process what it just saw, heard and felt.” His voice was the calm in a raging sea.
She refused to gravitate toward it, toward him for comfort. So, she folded her arms across her chest to stop her body from trembling, no doubt more aftereffects from the shock.
“Blake needs to get to a hospital,” she said.
“As soon as it’s clear he’ll be taken out by chopper,” Gabriel said.
It hadn’t occurred to her that there might still be a threat out there. An icy shiver raced down her back.
“It’s precaution,” he reassured. “A special room in the hospital is being set up for him on a secured floor.”
Again, she blinked at him. More questions flooded her, some from the past. This wasn’t the time or place to deal with those.
“You arranged all th
is?” She stopped her toe from tapping against the tile.
“I have a few friends.” His knowing smirk shouldn’t rile her up. Fine. He’d figured her out. She was impressed. That probably shouldn’t irk her as much as it did. The only emotion she could afford to allow under the circumstances was gratitude. He’d saved Blake’s life and hers, too. She appreciated Gabriel for that.
“What kind of special job did you do in the Army that makes you know all this and be able to do all this?” she asked.
The smirk toyed with the corner of his mouth and his right dimple made an appearance. She’d loved that dimple, that face, with as much enthusiasm as a high school senior could. Meaning, she’d completely given over her heart to him with no knowledge of the pain she’d feel when he walked away from her.
“Your boyfriend will be safe—”
“Publicist,” she corrected. Why had she felt the urge to make sure he knew Blake wasn’t her boyfriend so strongly? And why did her heart flip when she’d caught Gabriel checking out her ring finger?
“Whatever,” Gabriel said, and she nailed him. Jealousy? Guilt? He couldn’t bring himself to look at her scar. The accident hadn’t been his fault even though he’d been the one driving. It had been raining. The road was curvy. They were distracted. But his actions after said a lot about how little he truly cared for her.
“I said he’s my publicist, Gabriel. I’m not lying to you.” She didn’t care why she felt so strongly about him knowing the truth. Maybe it was because when she walked out of his life this time, she wanted him to know it was because of him and not someone else. A little voice in the back of her head tried to call her out as a liar but she managed to quash it before it could gain enough bravado to seed. “Will he be okay?”
Gabriel caught her gaze, a miscalculation on her part. Because his dark eyes still held that same sex appeal, that same power. Ignoring it, him, Blake’s words roared back to her as she stood helplessly by and watched EMTs work on his left thigh. Words like attack and terror ripped through her.