We got back to the parking area and found Troy standing next to the limo talking on his phone. Ryan moved in that direction as I still attempted to gain control of my erratic heartbeat.
“Jackie, is your truck here?” Ryan asked as we got closer to Troy. I nodded, unable to find my voice.
He stopped a few feet from the limo and told Troy, “I’m driving home with Jackie.”
Troy studied us for a moment and must have noticed the dazed look on my face and the way our hands locked tightly. He smirked and nodded, never missing a stride on his phone call.
Troy pulled open the limo door and raised his hand to the driver who was standing beside the front door. “Where is your car?”
I pointed with a shaking hand into the field, and he moved that way, pulling me behind him.
I tried to yank my hand out of his, but he’d locked his fingers around mine. “Wait, I need my hand for a moment, my car keys are in my pocket. I can’t get them out.”
I dug my heels in to get him to stop, my arm extended and my fingers twisted in his. He relaxed his hand enough so that I could slip mine out. My fingers were numb, and as I tried to pull my key out of my pocket, it slipped out of my shaky grasp and fell to the ground. I bent at the waist to pick it up.
When I stood again, Ryan was contemplating me. His face was more determined than I had ever seen, and I wasn’t sure if I should be excited or scared. He took a step closer and opened his mouth to say something, but I never heard the words that came out of his mouth.
Our world changed in that second. A blast so loud and powerful came from behind me that it blew both of us off our feet. I landed on the ground face first with a painful thud, but pain was good, pain meant you were alive. After the initial shock of being on the ground, I attempted to suck air into my lungs, but sharp pains surged through my torso from my back. I fought to take inventory of my body. My legs were there, though my knee ached, and I could see my arms and hands. Obviously, I still had my head, since I was seeing and thinking. I pulled myself up to my knees.
A secondary explosion from the same direction brought me back to the ground on my own accord, and I put my hands over my neck to protect it. I rolled to my side and sat up to see that the limo was gone. Only pieces of the frame remained and what little was left, was burning. A car that was parked in front of the limo was on fire, too; so that must have been the secondary explosion.
Ryan! Oh my God, where was Ryan? I flipped back over to my knees, searching the grassy field we just walked through. He was about fifteen feet away from me, lying prone on his back. I tried to stand and stumbled back to my knees. The pain subsided in my back enough that it allowed me to breathe almost normally.
He lifted his head as I began to crawl his way. “Ryan!” I reached him, grabbed him by the shoulder, touched his chest searching his torso for injuries, and then ran my hand over his arms and legs to examine them. He grunted and tried to sit up.
The panic of him being injured diminished only slightly as I sat on the ground trying to breathe and control the overwhelming urge to burst into tears that he was alive.
Hands grabbed my arms and jerked me off the ground. I spun around in fight mode to find my friend, the author, in front of me. She was talking, but I couldn’t hear her, my ears were ringing. I shoved away from her as I watched people moving toward the limo over her shoulder. These weren’t fire fighters or police officers, they were civilians. My need to protect the scene kicked in, and I rushed toward the crowd, telling them to get back. There were other cars in the area, and who knew if any others had explosives connected to them.
When I turned back around, I saw my friend holding Ryan back. Ryan was unsteady on his feet, and she had no trouble controlling him. My ears rang, and sounds were distorted, but I could see Ryan’s mouth screaming Troy’s name. My last view of Ryan was of him being dragged away by officers to safety.
I stared at the scene in front of me. There were people screaming and running. A few injured people were scattered around the area. My line of sight fell back on the black smoke billowing from the limo and rising into the sky as I remembered the smirk on Troy’s face just before he climbed in.
My knees gave way as I realized that Ryan would have been in there, but he had all but demanded to ride home with me. I fell to the ground, and the sobs took over. What would I have done if I had lost him like this? Like Logan?
Chapter 25
Ryan
My ears still rang like church bells when I was dropped back off at home. Several police officers were scattered around the property, and some of them had dogs with them. I figured Jackie probably had them making sure there weren’t any bombs planted here. I was glad that one of us was thinking, because I certainly wasn’t.
Over and over again, the memories of what happened played in my mind like I was hitting rewind on a DVD player. The intense pressure and sound of the explosion made me feel claustrophobic just from the memory. I got out of the patrol car and made my way absently into the house. I felt numb.
As I approached the front door, it opened, and Roseanne came running out. She threw her arms around me and we stood on the steps. She cried as we stood there. I probably would have, too, but I just couldn’t feel any emotion.
Eventually, I went inside and took a long hot shower. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the images of the smoke rising in a cloud over the limo in the cloudless sky. Pieces of debris scattered around me, and people were screaming, running, and crying.
Jackie came to me on her hands and knees. A look of panic and concern was all over her face as she grabbed my shoulders and examined me from head to toe. I stared at her, unable to do anything else. She turned her face from mine to look over at the limo that was burning. She sobbed once, and then she dropped her hands from my arms and hung her head into her palms.
Her friend came running up to her, reached down, and pulled her to her feet. Jackie pushed her away and ran toward the limo. I wanted to jump up and tell her to stop, but I was frozen on the ground. I realized that she wasn’t going toward the burning limo, but was headed toward the crowd of people to tell them to back away.
I remembered that Jackie’s friend was also a police officer in another district, and I stared at her as she spoke quickly into her phone, scanning the area, her eyes constantly going back to Jackie as she moved people away from the scene and to safety. It was only then that I remembered who was in the limo.
Troy. Oh my God. “Troy!” I yelled. I tried to stand up. Troy had been in there. I felt arms wrap around me, keeping me from running closer to something I would never want to see. Another officer came and helped her friend, but I didn’t know who it was. All I knew was that I couldn’t get to Troy.
They pulled me back against a brick building about five hundred yards from the vehicle, and I slumped to the ground staring at everything that was happening in front of me, seeing it, but not comprehending it at all. Fire trucks and ambulances came in droves. Police officers were everywhere and several of them had dogs that were walking around different things.
From time to time, I saw Jackie out in the crowd, and I wanted to go to her, but I knew she was working. This was what she did, so I stayed where I was and observed her when I could keep her in my view. Eventually, someone came to get me and told me they were taking me home. I don’t remember if I said anything or not.
I stood in the shower with the hot water streaming over my head, images racing through my mind. I washed my body four times trying to get the invisible smell of the death off my skin. Somehow, I didn’t think I ever would.
I paced for a long time in my room and then along the atrium hallway. I didn’t want to be alone. The house was too quiet, and I knew that Roseanne was asleep. She told me she was taking a sleeping pill. I stood on the balcony and watched the two police officers patrolling around the house and speaking on their phones.
Finally, I went down to the living room and poured myself a drink. Maybe if I had one, it would soothe my nerves enough
to let me sleep. I found myself walking up the stairs again and stopped in front of Jackie’s room. I reached down and turned the knob.
As the smell of her spicy perfume hit me, I was drawn into the room further. I closed the door and went to sit in the wingback chair near the window. I would sit here and wait for her. The smell of her perfume drifting in the air around me made me feel less lonely.
I don’t know how long I sat there, but when I saw a car pull up outside and Jackie climb out, I glanced at the clock and saw that it was after one in the morning. We had left for the set at seven a.m. the day before. She was going to be exhausted. I thought about getting up and going back to my room, but I just couldn’t find the energy to move.
I must’ve held my glass for hours, never taking a drink. I heard her as she opened her door, and I didn’t know if I should say something before she stepped in. She jumped when she saw me, and I watched as she regained her composure. Her clothes were filthy with streaks of black down the legs. The bottoms of her pant legs were totally black. She had on a sweatshirt that she hadn’t been wearing earlier today, and I absently wondered where it came from.
“Sorry,” I said softly as I studied her.
“What are you doing in here?” She didn’t sound angry, just tired.
“Waiting for you.” She stood in front of me, and I looked up at her briefly before I examined my glass. I swirled the whiskey around in the crystal, watching as it slid smoothly around the insides.
“Can you give me just a few minutes? I really need to take a shower, Ryan. We can talk when I’m done.”
I could see the raw pain and exhaustion in her eyes to an extent that I didn’t understand fully. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No, you’re fine. Just give me a few minutes.” She turned and I looked away to give her some privacy to gather her clothing. I heard her set something on the table next to the bed. I stared out the window, and when I heard her close the bathroom door, I turned to see she had set her gun and holster on the nightstand. I returned my focus to the window.
She was done much quicker than I expected. When she stepped out of the bathroom, steam poured out around her. Her hair was still wet and brushed back. Her light blue camisole hugged her chest and small waist. She came toward me and I watched the way her pale pink cotton pants rubbed against her legs. Any other time, it would have aroused me, but the pain of today made me recognize the facts and not react.
She knelt in front of me and took my hand. The moment she touched me, the tears I held back since the first explosion came. She took the glass out of my hand, and watched her through blurry eyes.
When she turned back to me, I pulled her into my lap and held her tightly. The soft skin of her hand touched my face, and my tears fell silently. She wrapped her arms around me and held me as I cried for the loss of my friend, and the pain I caused so many people.
After a while, the tears dried up, and yet, we still sat there. Neither of us spoke as we held one another for hours and watched the sun start to brighten the horizon. I felt her yawn, and I knew that we both needed to sleep, but I couldn’t gather the strength to get up and leave. “I don’t want to be alone,” I said quietly against her neck.
“Neither do I. Come on, let’s go lay down.” She got off my lap and pulled me up.
As I followed her over to the bed, I felt empty and exhausted. She pulled the sheets down and I climbed into her bed. She tucked me in as if I was a child, and then climbed right over the top of me and got under the covers. I was prepared to pull her to me when she opened her arms, and I moved to lay my head on her shoulder.
Those few moments from the chair to the bed made me feel so empty. As soon as I put my arm around her waist, the feeling dissipated. She ran her hand lightly through my short hair while gently rubbing my other arm with her hand. I pulled her close to me one more time, breathing in her clean scent.
I didn’t think there was any way I would be able to sleep, but with her soft touches, I must have dozed off. When I opened my eyes again, the room was bright. I was now lying on my back with her nestled against my chest. Her soft hair cascaded over me, and my arm curved tightly around her back.
I felt a stirring in my body as she started to wake. I squeezed her hipbone gently, and I almost gasped when she snuggled deeper into my chest.
The feel of her soft hair against my chest made me reach out and start running my hand through it, allowing the silky strands to slide over my fingers. I was just pulling my hand through her long hair when the bedroom door opened.
Jackie snapped her head toward the door as I turned mine slower. Her quick movement caused our bodies to separate, but I held her hip tightly so she couldn’t move completely away from me.
The look on Roseanne’s face was priceless as she took in the scene of Jackie and I in bed together, but the better look was the one of utter shock on the guys face who stood behind her. The word “mine” ran through my head as I saw him look at her hotly.
Jackie moved away from me while she spoke. I detected a faint blush on her cheeks from where I was. A minute later, the door closed again, I slid over to pull her back to me. I wasn’t surprised when she dismissed me. It had obviously hurt her when Jim saw me there with her. Not that I was worried, I was glad that the first time I saw him, it was with Jackie lying across my body.
She went to her closet and grabbed some clothes. I figured I better apologize for what happened. I owed it to her after what she did for me last night. “I’m sorry, Jackie. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble with your boyfriend.”
“It’s fine, Ryan. He’s not my boyfriend.” She was staring at her clothes. I knew she didn’t want to look at me.
“Well, you might want to tell him that, because it was pretty obvious he was pissed that we were in bed together.” She had no clue what Jim felt for her. Though it was clear to me when I saw the way he looked at her.
“We were sleeping in the same bed. It’s not like we had sex, and you’re wrong about Jim.” She was quick to dismiss my words.
“You’re blind, Jacquelyn. That man is crazy about you.” I walked away from her and stopped when I got to the door. “Yeah, we might not have had sex, but that doesn’t mean that nothing happened.” I stared her down a second longer and then walked out.
Something had happened, that was for sure. Something had been happening since the first moment I laid eyes on her in the airport. After yesterday, when she had crawled over to me to make sure I was all right, and then went to work helping everyone and yet still came back here exhausted, and held me through the night, I realized that things had changed with us.
I wasn’t sorry about the change. I welcomed it. Yet, I also found myself afraid. What if I cared about her more, and she got hurt because of all of this? What if she was killed and it was my fault?
Chapter 26
Jacquelyn
I was exhausted, and it took everything in me to keep my eyes open on the ride back to Ryan’s house. Jimmy offered to drive me back, but I told him he had too much to do. I grabbed a ride with one of the uniform cops.
Before Ryan went home earlier, I sent several officers to his house with a couple of the bomb squad dogs to search the property. It came up clean, and I was grateful for that. One bomb in a day was enough. Well, two, but I wasn’t going to think about the second one. I had someone take Ryan home once I knew it was safe. There were now two uniformed officers stationed at the house at least for tonight. I would get a hold of my friend’s security company tomorrow and set up other guards for around the clock security while Ryan was at home and for when he traveled.
Right now, the only thing I could think about was climbing the stairs and taking a long hot shower. Steve dropped me off at the front door, and I spoke to Brandon who was stationed out front. He told me that Brad was out back, and they would be here until another two guys relieved them in the morning. I thanked him and drug myself into the house and up the stairs.
It was dark inside the house, and I assume
d Ryan was asleep when I saw his door closed. I quietly opened the door to my room and slipped inside. A light on the other side of the room was on and as I turned I saw Ryan in the chair next to the window. I jumped, I hadn’t expected him to be here and I was so tired, I couldn’t control the surprise.
“Sorry,” he mumbled as he looked at me from across the room. He was wearing black and green pajama bottoms and no shirt. I noticed the hardball glass in his hand, and wondered what exactly he was drinking. I could probably benefit from one myself.
“What are you doing in here?” I asked as I moved closer. He looked like hell, plain and simple. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his face looked pale even in the soft glow of the light next to him. I figured I probably didn’t look much better. In fact, I probably looked worse because my clothes were a mess from digging through debris at the scene.
“Waiting for you.” He lifted his face, and when our eyes met, I saw a deep sadness in them that I understood all too well.
“Can you give me just a few minutes? I really need to take a shower, Ryan. We can talk when I’m done.” I watched him as he stared at his glass, swirling the brown liquid around.
He glanced at me again, and the pain in his eyes sliced my heart deeply. He nodded. “Do you want me to leave?”
Normally, I would have said yes, but the expression on his face said he didn’t want to go anywhere, so I shook my head. “No, you’re fine. Just give me a few minutes.”
I turned away and grabbed some clothes out of my dresser. I pulled my gun holster out of the back of my pants, set it next to the bed, and then headed for the bathroom. I turned and studied him as he sat in the chair. He was staring out the window to his right. His somber look tore at my soul. I closed the door and turned on the hot water.
Ten minutes later, I walked out of the bathroom. My hopes of a long hot shower were cut short with the image of Ryan sitting in my room. He was still staring out the window, the drinking glass held absently in his hand that rested on the arm of the chair. It appeared to have the same amount in it that it did when I went into the shower.
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