by Taylor Dean
The camera is too far away. I can’t really tell what is going on. I can only see a group of people standing on the bridge above the suspended can, huge lights trained on them, and a light trained on the can below them. They lower something down to the can, but the wind is whipping at it, making it difficult.
A reporter keeps saying the same things over and over. A possible bomb is suspended under the Golden Gate Bridge. The bridge is closed to all thru traffic. The Army bomb squad has arrived and has the matter in hand.
Nothing new. He knows nothing. He’s a spectator like all the rest of us, waiting on tenterhooks to see what will happen.
Next, my heart is in my throat as I watch a figure rappel off the side of the bridge, the wind making him sway dangerously.
Is that Zane? I close my eyes. Please don’t let it be Zane.
The reporter narrates what he’s seeing, what we’re all seeing. A man risking his life to see what’s inside the suspended can.
New video footage appears on the screen. The reporter says, “This just in. Video footage of the can being placed on the Golden Gate Bridge. A man, reportedly acting suspiciously, was sighted on the bridge, attaching the rope and lowering the can. He climbed onto the rope in an attempt to lower himself down to the can. However, he lost his grip, and slid down, hitting the can on his way to the water below. His body has not yet been recovered. We have no further information as to why the can has been placed on the bridge or why the man made an attempt to get to it.”
I feel sick when I see the man slip and fall to the cold water below.
The image on the TV switches back to the present. I can’t tell what’s happening and the suspense is killing me. I walk back and forth, nervous energy consuming me.
Zane is there. In the thick of the danger. Possibly standing above a bomb. Possibly dangling next to one.
I could lose him. But then, anyone could lose their loved ones at any given moment. None of us know when our time is up. That’s why you don’t spend your life falling. No, if you love someone you say it. Become the fallen. Zane knew there was a chance he wouldn’t return home. He knew it, and he did something about it. He pronounced his love for me. Perhaps earlier than he might have under normal circumstances. But I’m so glad he did. I loved hearing those words from his lips.
I’ve finally found love. And I don’t want to lose it.
I hear the reporter say, “This just in. The Army bomb squad has ruled out the threat of a bomb. It’s unclear exactly what is in the can, but I repeat, the threat of a bomb on the Golden Gate Bridge no longer exists. Travel across the bridge will reopen shortly.”
I collapse on the couch, feeling like I can finally breathe normally.
No bomb.
The live broadcast ends and I no longer have the minute by minute view of Zane’s team working on the bridge.
I look out the window, knowing he’s out there somewhere, still on the bridge, still risking his life.
I can’t stand the tension, the waiting, the anxiety. I have to do something. I leave the TV on, in case any new updates are broadcast.
Then I sit at my piano and I play my heart out. I transfer all of my stress into hitting the keys with much more force than necessary. Forte all the way.
And I wait. And wait. And wait.
chapter twenty-two
~
I FEEL ZANE’S lips on mine. His soft, sweet kiss. It feels so real. I want it to be real. Am I dreaming? Wake up, Mila.
“Wake up, Mila.”
It’s Zane’s voice. He’s here, he’s home.
I open my eyes and see him hovering above me. He kisses me again. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
A weird sound escapes my throat, half squeal, half croak. I throw my arms around him, making him lose his balance and fall onto me. “You’re back.”
I kiss his cheeks, his chin, his nose, his forehead, his lips, his neck, whatever part of him I can reach in my frenzy. I repeat, “You’re back,” over and over in between kisses.
He goes with it, kissing me back when he can. When I finally calm down, he mumbles, “I’m gonna leave more often.”
I hold his head in my hands, I touch his shoulders, his back, his arms. “Are you okay? All in one piece?”
He grabs my hands, putting an end to my exploration, and holds them on either side of my head. “Hey, calm down. I’m fine.”
He kisses me like he did last night, a deep, penetrating kiss. A little wild, a bit out of control. A kiss that makes me feel like I have been kissed. And thoroughly.
He takes his time, in no hurry for our embrace to end. My hands ache to hold him, but I’m trapped, at his mercy—exactly where I want to be. I relax in his arms and enjoy the feeling of being loved by Zane.
He stops before things get out of hand. He lifts himself up and pulls me up with him. He’s still dressed in his uniform and he looks beat.
But he’s alive and perfect.
Holding my hands, he says, “Look at you. Fully dressed and crashed on the couch. Please tell me you didn’t stay up all night.”
“I did. I couldn’t sleep. I had to know you were okay.”
He pulls me into his arms and hugs me close. “I’m okay. Everything’s okay. This is my job. You can’t worry like this every time I get a call. You won’t survive it.”
“I know, I know. This one hit very close to home.”
He holds me in his arms, gently rocking back and forth. I could stay here all day. I don’t know how long he holds me, but it’s a long time. So perfect. He smells like the ocean, salty and fresh.
It comes to an end when Zane backs up and holds my face in his hands. “Okay now?”
I nod and we sit on the couch holding hands. “Tell me what happened. Every detail.”
He scrubs one hand over his face. He hasn’t slept and I can tell he’s exhausted.
“Never mind,” I amend. “Sleep first. Have you eaten?”
“No.”
“I’ll make breakfast. Eggs and toast sound good?”
“That sounds amazing.”
He sits at the breakfast table while I cook. I don’t need to prompt him any further. He starts telling me about the events of last night all on his own.
“Once I arrived on site with my team, the first thing we needed to do was rule out a radiological threat.”
“Radiological?”
“A nuke.”
“A nuclear bomb? They can be small enough to fit in that can?” I ask as I break the eggs into a bowl.
“Absolutely. We attached a portable radiation detector to a line and dropped it down. The winds were blowing like crazy, so we had to drop a second line to hold it in place. We slowly moved it all around the can until we verified it wasn’t a nuke.”
“But it still could’ve been a bomb?”
“Yep. We lowered down other diagnostic equipment to try and figure out what we were dealing with and to see if a person could safely approach. The wind was our enemy and it took a long time. But we finally determined it wasn’t a bomb.”
“Thank goodness.”
“So, I put on my gear and rappelled off the side of the bridge. The can was about sixty feet down.”
I freeze, ice running through my veins. “That was you?”
“Yep.” He points to himself. “Team leader. Gotta go.”
“They caught it on camera. Scared the life out of me. I hoped it wasn’t you.”
He shakes his head. “It was me. Once I was stable, I had to determine if it was safe to remove the lid. The can was a thirty-three-gallon plastic garbage can being blown around by the wind as though it was a kid’s toy. Once I verified it was safe to open the lid, I took a look inside. It was filled with survival-type stuff. A CB radio, a couple of jugs of water, food, clothing, a blanket, a flashlight, a life vest, and a handful of political pamphlets.”
“What the heck?”
“Turns out, the jobless guy who did it planned to live in the flimsy can for at least a week. Some kind of bizarre protest to bring
attention to the plight of the aged and infirm. Makes no sense.”
“But he fell when he tried to climb down to the can.”
“He did. They found him this morning, clinging to a rock near Point Diablo.”
“Wait, he’s alive?” I move the spatula around the pan as I cook the eggs.
“Miraculously, he survived. It’s a two-hundred-and twenty-foot drop to the frigid water below. That’s like falling twenty stories. He has two collapsed lungs and some broken ribs. He was nearly swept out to sea. Amazing he’s alive.”
“So, what did you do next?”
“Put the contents of the can into a satchel and sent it up. It’s evidence. Once back on the bridge, I asked the police if I should bring the can up.”
“What’d they say?” I ask as I butter the hot toast.
“They said, nope. Cut the line and let it drop into the bay. They had the evidence they needed, and they were eager to open up traffic to the bridge as soon as possible. So that’s what we did. After that, the rest of the night was clean up and paperwork.”
I bring our plates to the table and sit across from him. “Your job scares me.”
“It should. Complacency is what kills people. A healthy amount of fear and respect is in order to survive.”
“How long will you stay in this job?”
“I owe the military another year. Then I have a decision to make.”
“Stay in the Army or go back to your father’s business?”
“Yes. And once I make the switch, I won’t be leaving again.”
Zane starts to eat. I can tell he’s in a hurry because he’s ready to crash. I’m relieved that he won’t be in the Army bomb squad forever. Only one more year. I think that’s about all I can handle.
A wisp of fear enters my soul at the thought of him returning to Martel Investments though. More fear than the bomb squad inspires. It’s the enemy camp and he’ll be deep within the trenches. Right along with Ryker and Debra.
Should I be worried for him?
I don’t know. I’m distracted because my heart is still beating on double time after that crazy kiss on the couch. We’re definitely compatible. I want to beg him for a repeat performance.
“About last night,” he says.
We look at each other and smile like two kids who just stole cookies from the cookie jar.
“I guess I’m just like my father. Once I know, I know. I guess it runs in the family. Have I scared you? Do you wanna run away and never look back?”
Um, no. If he knew my thoughts, he’d be blushing. “No, not at all. But I’d be happy to run away with you.”
He offers me a fist bump. “Deal.”
In spite of his light response, the glimmer in his eyes tells me he’s more pleased than he’s letting on.
Me too.
chapter twenty-three
~
MY PHONE RINGS and I know I need to answer it this time. It’s Tuesday, nearly a week since I last spoke to Ryker.
Zane pauses our show. “You’d better answer. He’s not gonna give up. I think this is something we have to face and not hide from.”
I love that he says we. We’re in this together. “Yeah, I guess I better talk to him.”
It’s late evening for us. I think Ryker’s calling during his lunch hour in Japan. I stand, feeling bereft after leaving Zane’s warm embrace. I miss having my head nestled on his chest. Our time together in the evening is my favorite part of the day.
At least Ryker’s call is not a video call this time. He won’t see Zane in the background, waiting for me to return to him on the couch. It’s not like he’ll see that my hair is askew. Or the soft candlelight on the coffee table. All evidence of a romantic evening.
“Hello.”
“Hello, Mila. It’s been a while.”
“Yes, it has. I’m sorry. My performance season starts this week. I’m so busy.”
“I just bet you are.”
His tone gives me pause. “Excuse me?”
“I imagine you are one crazy lady right now. I know how you get before a performance. You have a one-track mind.”
“It’s true.” My guilty conscience is hearing things he’s not saying. I pace the floor and Zane watches me with troubled eyes. He knows the thought of Ryker floods me with uncomfortable emotions. My relationship with him feels unresolved. The thing is, I’ve already moved on.
“So, what else have you been up to?”
Besides making out with your brother? Not much. I’m obsessed with him. “Oh, I’m pretty focused on my practice sessions right now. Hard to fit much else in.”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way.”
Do I detect a bit of sarcasm? “Maybe when the season is over.”
“Where’s Zane? Do you see much of him? I hope he’s not bothering you.”
Oh, he’s bothering me all right—in the hot and bothered way. I stop pacing and meet eyes with Zane. He’s watching me with intense eyes.
I maintain eye contact with him. “No, Zane’s not bothering me at all. With work and renovations on his new home, our paths don’t cross often.”
Which is true. I wish we had more time together.
“I hope you’ve taken what I said to heart. He can’t be trusted. Don’t let your guard down for a second.”
Irritated, I tell him, “He’s given me no reason not to trust him.” I turn around and pace the floor once again. “Look, Ryker, did you call to talk about Zane or call to talk to me?”
“I called to hear your voice, of course. I miss you, Mila.”
“Ryker, I . . .”
“I know, I know. No need to say it all again. But I still look forward to seeing you when I return home.”
“I look forward to your return as well.” So I can officially end things face to face. I hope that sounded Switzerland enough. It’s the most I can give him.
Honestly, I look forward to Ryker’s return because then I can move out and not feel obligated to stay here. For the sake of my relationship with Zane, I need to sever all connections with Ryker. Until I move out, that won’t happen.
I look back at Zane. He hasn’t moved an inch. He’s still watching me, his expression brooding.
“Is he there right now?” Ryker asks, his voice low.
“Yes, he’s here. Would you like to talk to him?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead he says, “Where is he?”
“He’s watching TV.” I run my fingers through my thick mane, massaging my scalp. I think a headache is coming on.
“Are you watching TV together?” he spits.
I breathe in and out deeply in an attempt to remain calm. I feel guilty about ending things with Ryker, but that feeling is quickly fading. “Yes, we’re watching TV together.” I refuse to say more. It’s none of his business. I’m really beginning to hate this awkward situation I find myself in. At least Ryker hasn’t mentioned the word falling again during this uncomfortable phone call.
“Be careful, Mila. I can’t stress it enough. Zane is bad news.”
No, he’s not. He’s the best news I’ve ever had. The headline of my life.
“I’m only thinking of you. I have to go. Talk again later.”
The click of the phone seems loud in my ear. Ryker and his abrupt phone endings. When he’s done, he’s done.
I’m done too.
I let my hand fall to my side, feeling troubled.
I’m not uneasy about me and Zane. I’m uncomfortable with the location of our budding romance. I wish it wasn’t unfolding right here in Ryker’s penthouse. It makes me feel like he’s watching us, like I’m doing something wrong, engaging in forbidden love.
“That was awkward,” I say, my voice echoing around the room.
“Eventually, he’s going to find out about us.”
“I know.”
“Tell him.”
It’s not a challenge or a dare. He’s as calm as he always is. But I sense underlying tension. “I don’t think that’s wise. Your entire family wil
l . . . explode.”
“My family exploded a long time ago. Nothing we do will make it worse or better.”
“I want more time with you.” My voice holds a pleading tone.
“You have it.”
“Time without family drama.”
“It will never happen.”
“It’s happening right now. I want it to stay like this.”
He’s quiet for several moments, thinking it over. “Tell him, Mila. Tell him everything. Diffuse the situation.”
“I don’t want to.” Am I hurting him by keeping us a secret? We haven’t necessarily been careful or secretive. We just haven’t announced it to Ryker and Debra.
“Why?”
“It’s our secret. And I like it that way.”
“What are you worried about?”
“Once they know about us, I’m scared it will somehow ruin us.”
“Never in a million years. I won’t let them.”
My chest rises and falls. I want to run to him and throw my arms around him. Hold him close, never let him go. If I hang on tight enough, I won’t be able to lose him. Is he underestimating his crazy family?
I think he is.
“Are you scared to tell him?” he asks.
“No. And I don’t think I owe it to him, either.”
Zane looks down at his hands. “Okay. Fair enough.”
I know I need to say more. “As long as we’re both living in Ryker’s home, it’s weird that I’m seeing you. It makes me feel like Ryker and Debra have a say in our lives—and I don’t want them to have that kind of power over us.”
He nods slowly. “Well said.”
“Are you upset with me?”
“Nope.” He grabs the remote and switches the TV to a music station. An instrumental version of Unchained Melody fills the air.
He walks toward me, exaggerating each step, making me wait when I’m anxious to be in his arms. “If Ryker and Debra are going to mess with us, and make no mistake, they will mess with us, then I’m going to take advantage of every moment I have with you while I have it,” he says softly.
