by Sydney Logan
He was my Coop.
I was his Abby.
And I’d never told him.
I crumble against the mattress and bury my face beneath the pillow. Hot, angry, despondent tears roll down my face, leaving me feeling empty and numb. It’s only when my sobs begin to subside that I hear the knock on the door.
It’s a quiet, cautious knock. So quiet I’m not even sure I’m really hearing it, but then it happens again—a little harder this time.
With a gasp, I jump out of bed and run to the door. Hope blooms in the pit of my stomach as I tiptoe to peek through the peep hole.
Don’t get excited. It could be the cops. Or, it could be Dean, keeping his promise to check on you.
At first, I don’t see anything, but then my eyes catch a flash of wild, dark hair, and I know . . .
And then I hear his agonized voice through the door.
“Please let her be in there. God, please—”
My trembling fingers quickly unbolt the door and his head jerks up. Brokenhearted and bloodshot baby blues stare back at me. Mind-numbing relief quakes through my body, and I grab the door to keep my legs from buckling. His handsome face is lined with unbearable pain and unfathomable regret, but his eyes gaze at me with crushing, overwhelming relief.
I take a step back, and his eyes never leave my face as he silently steps into the sanctuary of the room. We stare at each other until I can’t take it anymore, and despite the protests of my aching body, I rush toward him and leap into his arms, my legs wrapping around his waist. An agonizing shudder vibrates through him as his warmth envelops me, holding me so close I can barely breathe.
“You’re alive,” Ethan whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “I looked and looked and looked.”
All I can do is nod and bury my face against his neck while we cling to each other. I hear him kick the door shut before lowering us to the ground. Even then, we don’t let each other go. My fingers touch every inch of his face, and he touches mine, as if we can’t believe the other is actually real.
“Are you hurt?” His voice is gentle and soft.
“Not physically. Are you?”
“Not physically.”
The devastation in his voice mirrors mine. I trail the back of my hand across his blackened cheek before running my fingers through his hair in a pointless attempt to soothe him.
“Coop and Abby . . .”
“I know.”
His eyes widen with renewed terror. “I thought you . . . I thought you were . . .”
“I thought you were, too.”
Ethan gasps for air as he lays his head against my chest. For what seems like an eternity, we rest in each other’s arms. I can’t get close enough, and he can’t hold me tight enough. He places his ear against my drumming heart, and I hear him sigh softly.
I don’t know what he’s seen. I don’t know what he’s been through. But I know I have to stay strong, at least for a little while. At least until he can take care of me, too.
“I need a shower,” he says, “and then I’m holding you all night. Do you understand? All night.”
“Yes,” I whisper against his hair.
He untangles himself from my arms, and we help each other to our feet. Just as he turns toward the bathroom, panic grips my heart. Now that he’s here, I don’t think I can stand to be away from him—not even for a minute.
“Don’t leave me!”
Ethan must feel the same way, because he takes me by the hand and leads me to the bathroom. While he undresses, I turn on the shower and adjust the water temperature. While I undress, he steps into the shower. His hand appears from behind the curtain, and I gratefully accept it and climb inside.
There’s absolutely nothing sexual about it. At times, he turns his face toward the spray, and I know he’s crying. Otherwise, our eyes remain on each other’s faces as I help him wash away the most devastating night of our lives.
By the time we climb into bed, it’s nearly dawn.
“Come here, baby,” he says gently, pulling me into his arms. The room has grown cold in the wee hours of the morning, but his body is warm against mine, and I feel myself finally slowly begin to relax.
“Try to sleep, Ethan.”
“You, too.”
He ghosts his finger down my spine.
“You first.”
With a heavy sigh, I snuggle deeper into his arms. Tomorrow will undoubtedly bring more questions. But there are no answers to be found tonight, and I allow myself to drift into a restless sleep.
I’m awakened by the sound of muffled tears.
“Coop!”
My back is to his chest, and he’s holding me so tight I can barely breathe.
“Coop, where are you?”
I manage to twist around in his arms. Ethan’s face is wet with tears. Anguish floods his features as he whispers Coop’s name over and over again.
It’s a nightmare, and I know it’s the first of many, for both of us.
I gently stroke his face, and his entire body convulses beneath my touch.
“Jenna . . . Jenna . . .”
“I’m here.” I smooth his hair away from his face and kiss his cheek. “I’m right here.”
His fingers dig painfully into my skin, but I don’t care.
I continue to whisper until he finally calms down. I’ve nearly dozed back off when he kisses my forehead. Lifting my face toward his, and with a little help from the light of the moon streaming in through the curtains, I find his eyes gazing into mine. Very slowly, he lets his finger trail across my cheek before he leans down, kissing the very tip of my nose.
It’s not enough.
I cup the back of his head and pull his face close. Ethan’s eyes flicker to life, and we sigh into each other’s mouths as his lips brush mine. It’s gentle and warm, because that’s what we need. Just a soft, innocent reminder that he’s here, and I’m here, and we’re together.
“Good night, Jenna.”
I place my head against his chest.
“Good night, Ethan.”
Heat and smoke permeate the air as the explosion shakes me to my core. I hear windows shatter. I hear a scream. I have no idea if it’s mine or Coop’s. I can’t see the flames, but I can feel the heat. I cough and choke on the billowing smoke that fills my lungs as I struggle with the window—the same window that had confirmed my worst fears.
Not a blackout.
The window won’t budge, and it’s barred. Breaking it’s useless because I’m trapped regardless.
“Coop!”
My voice is rough, and I know he can’t hear me . . . wherever he is.
Blindly, I try to find an exit. I reach a stairwell just as another explosion rocks the building. I hear another scream.
Abby?
Jenna?
I rush down the stairwell and open the door to the fourth floor, pushing my way inside through the heavy smoke. A third explosion makes the building quake, causing the tiled floor to crumble. My feet fly out from under me, and I feel a sharp pain in my head just as my vision goes dark.
“Ethan!”
Jenna’s angelic voice echoes in my ear while her hands caress my face. My body relaxes beneath her touch.
She’s here. I’m here. And we’re alive.
I hold her tighter and whisper her name as I drift off once again.
I have no idea how long I’m unconscious, but I hear sirens. Smoke hangs in the air, so thick that I gag whenever I try to breathe, but somehow, I’ve avoided the flames. I try to climb to my feet, but a rush of dizziness crashes over me, making me stagger into what is left of a wall. I see another window there, but it’s barred just like all the others. I wipe the grime out of my eyes and try to focus on the street. Thanks to the emergency vehicles’ flashing lights, I can see our vehicle parked near the corner.
And it’s empty.
I wipe my face and struggle through the debris until I find a door that I pray leads to another stairwell. Or an exit. The smoke makes it increasingly harde
r to breathe, but I stagger down the stairs, only to stop in my tracks when I see them huddled in a corner on the landing.
“No . . .”
My best friend is there—blackened and bleeding. And in his arms is his fiancée.
Their hands are clasped with fingers entwined, her engagement ring visible despite the smoke.
I drop to my knees to check their pulses, but I know.
I know.
But I check anyway, and then my heart shatters.
My heart is thundering in my chest and my eyes snap open. This time, I don’t wake her, and I’m glad. She needs to sleep, and honestly, I don’t want her to see me this way. I need to be strong for her, and I’m anything but strong tonight.
But I will be.
I stare at her beautiful face. The morning sun tries to blink through the curtains, and it gives me just enough light to make out the shape of her mouth. With the very tip of my finger, I softly trace the outline of her lips. They part, and she sighs sweetly. Despite our horrific night, she looks peaceful and uninjured—neither of which I’d dared to dream. I’ve never been a religious man, but I’d never prayed harder than I did last night. For a few agonizing hours, I believed she was dead, too. But here she is—safe and beautiful and sleeping in my arms.
Content with that knowledge, I pull her against me and close my eyes.
“I’m so sorry.” My voice is a painful whisper. “I’m so, so sorry.”
I hear voices in the hall outside the stairwell door, and it’s the only reason I leave them behind. I hurriedly stumble down the flight of stairs. Through the haze and smoke, I watch from below as the firemen lift Coop and Abby’s bodies into their arms.
With my friends rescued, I turn and race down the stairs.
I’m not afraid of getting caught. I’m afraid that, if they see me, they won’t let me search for Jenna. They’ll insist I get out of the building, and I can’t. If Abby ran inside, I’m sure Jenna tried to follow her.
Jenna . . .
My entire body shakes just thinking she’s lost somewhere in the smoke and flames. I can’t even consider the possibility that I’ve lost her, too.
I search and search, and I’m both relieved and disheartened when I don’t find her.
But I do find the flames.
Dizzy and choking, I struggle back to the sanctuary of the stairwell. In my daze, I see an emergency exit. I give it a push and stagger out into the night. I find myself in an alley, and off in the distance, I see Jenna’s vehicle. With what energy I have left, I run straight to it. I climb into the front seat, slam the door, and bury my head against the steering wheel. Tears stream down my face as I do something I haven’t done since I was a kid.
I pray.
And then I drive.
When she opens the door, I nearly drop to my knees. Relief—beautiful, bone-crushing relief, courses through me. Her cheeks are streaked with tears and her eyes are wide with sorrow, but in this moment, I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life. The fact that she’s here . . . standing, breathing, and beautiful . . . makes me a believer in the power of prayer.
I wake up again but keep my eyes closed. Jenna’s warm against my side, and I bury my face in her hair. The scent of tangerine is a welcome fragrance compared to the stifling smoke from my dreams. I let her sweet scent drive the nightmares away, and for a few minutes, it works. For just a few moments, I forget that we were set up by a man who has no idea his days on this earth are numbered. I forget we’ve lost our best friends. I forget that I could have lost her.
“Ethan?”
I press a kiss to the top of her hair. “I’m right here.”
Jenna’s body relaxes against me, and she buries her nose against my chest.
The sun’s a little brighter now, but I don’t look at the clock. Time ceases to exist in the shelter of this room. The outside world is a shitstorm we’ll deal with later. For now, nothing matters except that she’s here.
Then she starts to cry.
The sound stirs a feeling in my chest that threatens to suffocate me more than last night’s smoke ever could. I hold her close and let her cry.
Last night, she was my strength. Today, I will be hers.
Jenna and I lay in bed for the rest of the day. We sleep some. We cry some more. We talk a little about nothing important. Then we talk a lot about Abby and Coop. Our peace is interrupted only a few times by the sound of a ringing cell phone somewhere in the room. It’s easy to ignore.
“Do you think it’s possible . . . that they’re alive?” Her voice is laced with hope.
“No, sweetheart.”
“But, maybe—”
“I saw them, Jenna.”
She quickly sits up in bed. “What do you mean?”
“I saw them. I found them.”
Her eyes fill with tears.
“Were they . . .”
She doesn’t finish the question. She doesn’t have to.
“Yes.”
“They were together? Dean said they were found together.”
I nod. She wipes away her tears and slides back down, settling in my arms once again.
“Who’s Dean?”
“He’s one of the paramedics from last night. He tried to get me to go to the hospital, but I refused.”
I narrow my eyes and immediately start inspecting her body for wounds.
“You told me you weren’t hurt.”
“I’m not. I just hit my head on the asphalt. I was unconscious for a few minutes.”
I’m livid.
“You didn’t tell me you hit your head! What if you have a concussion?”
“Stop it, I’m fine.”
“Jenna, maybe we should—”
“No, we shouldn’t. I’m not going to complain about a little bump on the head when you clawed your way out of a burning building and our two best friends are dead. I am fine!”
She starts to cry again, putting an end to any talk about going to the hospital.
It’s late in the afternoon when I decide she needs food. I don’t ask. I just know she needs to eat. I find my second cell phone in one of the duffel bags and call Gabriel. The relief in his voice makes me feel like shit for not contacting him sooner, and I apologize for keeping him out of the loop. He offers to bring us food, and within minutes, he arrives with pizza. We try to eat, and I fill Gabe in on what’s happened since last night. My usually stoic pilot gets visibly emotional when I tell him how I found Coop and Abby in the stairwell. Jenna quietly tries to eat, but I can tell it’s a struggle. She finally gives up, drops her slice of pizza, and sprints toward the bathroom. She slams the door, but that doesn’t disguise the gagging we hear coming from behind it. My feet twitch to go to her, but Gabe shakes his head, subtly reminding me she needs her privacy. After a while she reappears, but instead of going back to her food, she searches the room until she finds her cell.
“I have a message from Dean,” she says.
I stop chewing. The smell’s making me nauseous anyway.
“You gave him your number?”
“Who’s Dean?” Gabe asks.
“One of the paramedics,” Jenna explains. “I gave him my number because it was the only way he’d let me leave without going to the hospital. He’s worried.”
“So am I,” I tell her.
She sends a quick text message and then surprises me by walking over to me and climbing into my lap. Not that we haven’t been wrapped around each other like vines since late last night. I’m just shocked she’d let Gabe see how close we’ve become.
I gingerly run my finger against her scalp, and she winces.
“Sorry, baby,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her temple. I look over at Gabe. “Maybe we should find a doctor.”
“I told you I’m fine. Your hand may need a stitch, though.”
“My hand?”
She reaches for my left hand and turns it over. On my palm is a gash about two inches in length.
I shrug. “It doesn’t hurt.”
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Jenna searches my eyes before asking Gabe to get the first aid kit from her bag. I’ve never seen him move so fast, and I shoot him a disapproving glare when he hands her the box.
“It could get infected, Ethan,” she says.
I watch her face as she applies ointment to the cut before placing a bandage over it. I can feel Gabe’s eyes on us, but he’s easy to ignore when I have the most beautiful girl in the world on my lap, placing soft kisses against my bandaged palm.
“According to Dean, the police are looking for me. He hasn’t given them my information yet. He said he wanted to give me time to rest.”
I’m not surprised the cops want to talk to her. Even if they don’t realize how she’s connected, she’s still an eyewitness. Time is not on our side. It won’t take long before someone connects the dots. When that happens, they could arrest both of us. I’m not worried about going to jail, but I can’t kill Stavros if I’m behind bars.
And I can’t protect Jenna.
We have to hide. It’s our only option.
“Jenna, what do you think about Dean? Can you trust him?”
She considers this. “Maybe. I don’t know why. Probably because he reminds me of my dad. I told him what I could about Abby’s brother . . . and about Coop’s sister, but I couldn’t remember her name.”
I hadn’t even thought about contacting their families.
“I should call Coop’s sister.”
“I don’t know how to reach Abby’s brother.”
“Do you know his name?”
“Jason Moore.”
Gabe’s already on his phone, and within seconds, he has Jason’s last known address and phone number. I offer to contact both siblings, but Jenna thinks she should be the one to break the news to him.
She steps out onto the hotel balcony to make her call.
