by A. O. Peart
My eyelids fluttered. I saw Ethan and Chris bolt to my side. Ethan’s mouth was moving, but I couldn’t understand the words. He scooped me up in his arms and reclined me down on the bench I occupied before. Chris kneeled next to me and put the oxygen mask over my nose and mouth.
“Breath slowly.” I read her lips.
I was unable to keep my eyes open. Everything just stopped and went black.
I wasn’t sure how long until I regained consciousness. The oxygen mask was still on my face, and something very cold was placed over my forehead and under the back of my neck. First thing I saw was Ethan’s frowning face. His dark eyes were focused on me. They were so… dark, and deep… wow, I could get lost in them.
Chris was checking my pulse. Ethan touched the side of my face. His hand felt comfortably warm, gentle, and almost familiar.
I took a deep breath and sighed with relief. My heart slowed down, and I experienced a strange calm sliding over me. Maybe they gave me a shot of something to ease my nerves?
“Gloria, how are you feeling?” Ethan’s low, raspy voice sounded considerate. That gentleness didn’t quite belong to his masculine, chiseled features, and hard stare. He reeked of an alpha-male decisiveness and dominance. I would never want to get on his bad side.
“Did I pass out?” I croaked and cleared my throat.
“Yes. I think you had a panic attack. Has that ever happened to you before?” he asked.
I looked away. I didn’t want to think of the last two weeks. The panic attacks started immediately when the police took me in, after my frantic call to report Helen’s murder. It was as if a switch was flipped inside me. My normal laid-back, calm attitude was gone. It was replaced by a constant state of fright and awareness that the ruthless killers out there were looking for me. I was next on their hit list.
“When did they start?” Ethan’s stare softened a notch when I turned my head to look at him again. “The panic attacks—when did they start?”
“I feel so tired,” I whispered.
“Gloria, what about those panic attacks? Is that something new? Have you seen a doctor lately?” Ethan was persistent. He seemed like a man who never took a “no” for an answer.
He loomed over me, sitting next to me on the bench. Over six feet of a hard-muscled, wide-shouldered male made me feel vulnerable and stupidly weak inside. I hated myself for it. No man has ever affected me that way, and I didn’t welcome such intrusion.
“What panic attacks? I just freaked out for a moment. That doesn’t mean I had a panic attack.” I was angry—at him, at myself, at the FBI, and at everyone else who forced themselves on me in the name of protection, help, or whatever the hell they felt it was their right.
“This was the classic panic attack. I don’t know your story, but I assume you were in a difficult situation, and that might have resulted in a possible Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Have you talked with a physician about your symptoms?”
Okay, screw that. He was a trained paramedic and whatever else—I had a feeling there was a lot more to this guy than working as a firefighter. No way I could fool him. So I made a snap decision to tell him about this whole mess I was in.
“Two weeks ago, I witnessed a gang rape and murder of my good friend. We worked at a restaurant close to the University campus, just four evenings a week to make a few bucks and get some free meals. One night… it was really late… there was a large birthday party, and so we were asked if we could work till closing. Neither of us would ever turn away a possibility of making some extra cash. The place was two blocks down from the campus so we just walked back.” My voice shook, and so did my hands. I took a deep, cleansing breath to compose myself and then one more. They didn’t help much.
Ethan handed me a plastic bottle of water. I accepted, sat up, and took a long swig. Cool liquid felt calming and refreshing in my throat.
Chris took the ice packs that fell onto the bench and put them away inside a freezer part of a tiny fridge in the corner. She pulled out another set of ice packs, but I shook my head to stop her.
I looked back at Ethan. He was concentrating on me, waiting for me to continue.
“I realized that I forgot my purse from the restaurant, so I asked Helen—that was my friend’s name—to return with me to get it. But she said she had a sore spot on her heel and would rather wait for me there. I promised to be quick and come back in a couple of minutes. I hurried, but the restaurant owner stopped me to ask if I had the key to the locker. When I finally got back to the spot I left Helen at, she wasn’t there. And then I heard her scream. It sounded awful, scared, like that of a very hurt animal. Then it stopped. They must have covered her mouth. These guys were laughing and taunting her. I heard them slapping her. I didn’t know how to help without becoming a victim myself.”
I bit on my lip to stop the tears from falling. My vision blurred, and I swiped angrily at my eyes. Ethan and Chris were quiet, waiting for the rest of the story.
“They… they tore her clothes off; completely off. Didn’t leave a thread on her. They raped her, all four of them by turns and quickly as if competing which one can go faster and harder. She tried to fight back, but they held her down and covered her mouth. They punched and slapped her repeatedly. It was terrible, just terrible. And I felt so helpless and scared.” I gave in to sobs. They shook my whole body.
I could see that scene right in front of my eyes. Even when I squeezed them shut it wouldn’t go away. It was burned onto the insides of my eyelids. I could never forget it.
Chris wrapped her arm around me, but remained quiet. Ethan wasn’t talking either. But I felt them exchanging silent words, speaking with their eyes, wordlessly discussing what they just heard.
I had to tell them the rest of the story, because the part they heard left too much out.
So I continued, trying not to sob but with a lousy result, “I had to do something, but I was too scared to even move. I thought about running back to the restaurant, but everyone was gone, except for the owner. She wouldn’t be able to help—she was an older lady with bad knees and a replaced hip. My only option was to call the cops. But first I wanted a proof of what I was witnessing for the police to possibly find them. So I took my phone out and started to record them torturing Helen. I hoped they would finally leave her laying there when they were done, so I could drag her somewhere safe and call the cops. But one of the guys took a knife out and sliced Helen’s throat! Just like that; with no reason. Oh, God… that was horrible… blood was everywhere. I screamed, and they saw me. I ran. I got away. But I dropped my cell phone and didn’t dare to go back to pick it up.”
I had to bite on my knuckles to keep from bawling. The memories were too vivid in my mind, still too fresh. Before I realized what was happening, Ethan rubbed a small disinfecting wipe over my arm and swiftly pierced my skin with the needle, injecting me with something from a small syringe.
“This will calm you down,” he murmured.
I didn’t even protest. I was a mess, my mind was racing, and my heart was pounding uncontrollably against my ribcage.
Chris laid me down on the bench, and the ice packs reappeared on my forehead and behind my neck. Without a word, Ethan walked outside. Chris motioned to me to stay down. I obliged, because the dark swirls in front of my eyes were back, and I didn’t want to pass out again.
But whatever Ethan injected me with, was working wonders. My eyes closed, and I fell asleep.
I heard whispers, and they scared me. I bolted upright, shrieking.
Chris rushed to me. Her hands firmly gripped my arms, and she lowered me to the bench. “Shh, it’s okay. Shh.”
I looked around and remembered that I was in the paramedics’ vehicle. Ethan and his Battalion Chief stood at the other end, watching me. A moment later they returned to their quiet conversation, shooting me chased glances. I couldn’t even decipher what was said. After a moment they called Chris to join them.
She walked over to them and stood, listening and nodding at what
Ethan was whispering. Then she turned her head to give me a quick look. The medicine they gave me made me feel sluggish and calm. I didn’t care anymore what they were doing and what they were discussing. Now, I just wanted to close my eyes and breathe.
I must’ve fallen asleep again, because when I opened my eyes the Chief was gone, and Ethan squatted down by my side, looking determined.
“What’s going on?” I had to force my mouth to form the words. They came out slurred, no matter how hard I tried.
“You’re sure you won’t stay in the witness protection?” Ethan asked. I thought his voice sounded harsher than ever before.
“Didn’t I make that clear?” I scoffed, still slurring a bit.
“And there isn’t anyone you trust to hide you somewhere?”
“It’s not just about trust. It’s about not putting anyone in danger. The gang found me once, they will find me again. As you can see, they aren’t choosy at whom they kill around me.” I pointed toward the outside.
“Maybe they will, or maybe they won’t,” Ethan said.
I watched his face, but he didn’t betray what he meant by such a weird statement.
Chris stood next to Ethan and lightly punched him in the shoulder. He gave her a scornful look, but she just raised her eyebrows in a mocking come on, big guy expression.
“Go on, tell her the plan,” Chris prompted.
“What plan?” I asked nervously.
“I’m getting to it,” Ethan sounded irritated. He turned to look at me, frowning. “Listen, if these guys are watching you then we need to make you disappear. Poof. Gone. No trace.”
“Go on.” I nodded. I was wondering who the we were. The medication was still in full effect. I knew that, because I felt surprisingly calm. Normally, if I had to discuss my situation, especially with strangers, I would be scared out of my wits.
“You’re coming with me. I can hide you for a while. Chris is gonna help with that.”
“Wait, what?” I had a really hard time wrapping my head around his words. “Hide me where? How?”
Chris kneeled down by Ethan, next to my bench. “Gloria, listen.” She smiled encouragingly. “Ethan is a well-trained ex-Marine with a badass attitude and skills out of this world, but he’s also a really good guy, nevertheless.”
“That’s a fucking great intro, Chris. Thank you,” he sneered.
“You’re welcome, but shut up for a bit so I can explain to Gloria what needs to be done.”
I liked Chris more and more. She seemed like a no-nonsense, easy going girl. And she wouldn’t take any shit from a guy, even as imposing as Ethan was. His personality kinda stunk, but beggars can’t be choosers, so I wasn’t about to bring that up.
“We’ll swap our clothes.” Chris pointed to me, then to herself, and back to me. “I’ll keep that hood of yours on, just like you’ve been doing, and my head down, so nobody would see my face. Then I’ll go to ride with the feds in their car. You’re staying here. Ethan will drive the paramedics rig to Firehouse 8, right behind Jack, who will take the Engine 8 there. Both vehicles will enter the garage and park. You stay in. Nobody will have the slightest clue that the girl who went with the feds is not Gloria Glass. If there is a tail, they will go after the feds’ vehicle.”
“But you’ll be in danger! You’ll be in the FBI car, so if the gang opens fire—”
“They won’t,” Ethan interrupted me. “They aren’t stupid to attack in the open with so many witnesses, the cops, and the media around. Do you think the fed’s vehicle can possibly slip out of here unnoticed? No way in hell. There’ll be a full entourage following them.”
“But that’s crazy.” I sat up.
“Do you have a better idea?” Ethan barked at me.
I looked at him, speechless. He didn’t give the impression of being eager at all to become part of this plan, so why did he even agree to do so?
“You don’t seem excited to do this, and I don’t blame you,” I started.
He cut me off quickly, “I don’t get excited about stuff that needs to be done. I just do it.”
Asshole. There was no way I would spend any time at all with him. I’ve known plenty of jerks in my life already, and adding one more wasn’t going to happen.
I opened my mouth to tell him that he can stick that brilliant plan up his ass, but Chris spoke first.
“Okay, okay. Listen up. Don’t worry about me, Gloria. My girl Juno will get me from the feds. She’s a cop, and, believe me, nobody ever fucks with her. Ethan will drive you to my house. It’ll simply look as if it’s me he’s dropping off after work. Now comes the important part: you’ll immediately go inside, but then quietly exit through the back door. There is a small gate in my backyard that leads into the woods. You must be quick. Just run to the gate and out. You will see a trail. Follow it all the way through the woods, a mile maybe. Just stay on the path and don’t turn anywhere. The trail ends by a fallen tree. There is a large boulder on the right with two handprints in gold paint—that’s from Juno’s and my wedding ceremony.” She smiled and when she did, her whole face lit up. “Ethan will wait there for you in his truck.”
“Just don’t exit the woods until you see me parked on the road,” Ethan interjected. Geez, he had a rude way of interrupting everyone. “Don’t assume it’s my truck when you see it approach. I’ll stop by the boulder and lower the passenger’s window for you to see it’s actually me. Otherwise, just stay hidden until I arrive.”
Wow, that sounded like a script for some thriller story. But then again, my life in the last two weeks had been nothing short of a CSI screenplay material.
“Good?” Ethan’s eyes seemed cold. He pinned me down with his stare and then without waiting for me to comment, left the rig.
“Quick, give me your clothes.” Chris was already undressing and standing in front of me in only a bra and underwear. She motioned to me to do the same.
“How did you convince the FBI to agree to this plan? Wait, do they know?” I realized that if there was a snitch in the Bureau, which I suspected there was, this scheme was as dangerous as staying in the protection program. No, it was even worse, since more innocent people were now involved.
“No, they don’t know where you’re going. Nobody except Ethan, our Chief, and Ethan’s cousin Jack. All a hundred percent trustworthy people. You told the feds that you’re withdrawing, and that your lawyer will communicate with them. They can’t do anything now; can’t stop you. You’re a free citizen.”
I took from her the pants and the Fire Department issued shirt and put it down on the bench. It all sounded too easy. I made a mental note to call Jessica as soon as it was safe.
Pulling my own t-shirt off, I peeked again at Chris. She turned her head, trying to see what was happening outside. The snake tattooed on her scalp and neck ended between her small breasts. Its blood-red eyes were wide open, menacing. Both of Chris’s shoulders and arms were covered in colorful half-sleeve tattoos, and there was more ink on her flat stomach and lean legs.
I slid of my pants and quickly put Chris’s clothes on. They fit pretty well. Chris dressed in my hoodie and jeans. She smiled. “Huh, we must be the same size, just the way Ethan said we were.”
“Ethan? I thought it was you who figured that out.” I didn’t even try to keep surprise out of my voice.
She grinned at me. “Ethan knows more about women’s physique and clothes than you and I both put together.”
I felt my eyes opening wide.
Chris laughed. She had a nice laugh—like someone who’s carefree and happy. As far as I knew, she most likely was.
“Okay, I’m gonna leave now. The feds are waiting. I’ll see you later.” She squeezed my arm. “Don’t be scared. Ethan’s okay. He won’t let anything happen to you. He’s grumpy sometimes, but you can totally trust him.”
I pulled her into a hug. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I don’t know how I can possibly repay you.”
“No need to worry about that. I try to pay it forward. On
e day I might need some help, and so I want to believe I will receive it.” She hugged me back, pulled away, and smiled at me. A moment later she was out of the door.
I sat down with my elbows propped on my knees, resting my chin on my fists. Will my life be ever normal again? Will I ever live without fear? Nothing was the same anymore, and I knew that nothing would ever be.
Chapter Seven
ETHAN
I brought the paramedics rig inside, right after Jack parked the Engine 8. He jumped out from it and closed the garage door. The rest of the guys got out and went inside, straight to the bunkrooms to change from their turnout gear and heavy boots. Jack stayed with me.
“Is everything okay? Where is she?” he asked quietly.
I tipped my chin in the direction of the rig and then opened the door. “Gloria, stay here for a moment.”
She huddled in the corner like a hunted animal. Momentarily, I felt a pang of guilt for being so harsh with her.
Jack stuck his head inside the rig. “S’up. I’m Jack, Ethan’s cousin.”
“I’m Gloria,” she said in a small voice.
“Jack, wait with Gloria. I need to grab a few things from my bunkroom.”
“Sure thing, bro.” Jack nodded.
I just finished my twenty-four hour shift and had a four-day furlough starting today, which actually worked out perfect for our plan. In the kitchen, Ron and Craig, two guys from our team were getting lunch ready. It was their turn to cook. We always took turns in preparing meals for the rest of the team.
“Cap, are you eating with us?” Craig asked.
“No, thanks. I’m leaving in a moment. Jack’s staying though, so better make something for him, or you’ll have to deal with his pissy attitude.” I was just giving them shit for kicks. They cooked for everyone anyway.
