Chapter 7
7
AMARA
I try to quell the fear rolling inside me as we step into the darkened space. The low lights keep it from being pitch black, but they aren’t as bright as the ones in the main room. Still, I can’t stop myself from trembling as I step in further, Lazaro’s hulking body blocking the light filtering in from behind us.
Get a grip, Amara.
Lazaro moves so that his phone light is pointing down the hallway, and I relax a bit. Okay, I can do this. If I’m honest, having him behind me is almost comforting. I’m not alone, which means the demons in my mind can’t take hold. Yes, I have this. I’ll be fine. I will not freak out.
I start walking, careful not to step on anything. We might want to look at it later. We continue for a short distance, and then I see it—a dip in the wall on the right.
“What’s that?” I ask as I turn, trying to make out what I’m seeing in the shadows. Damn, I really wish it was brighter in here.
Lazaro’s phone lights up a recessed area in the wall, with two doors kitty-corner to each other. Both doors are the style that make you turn a wheel to open them.
“Looks like their operation was even larger than we thought,” he muses. “Let’s check them out.”
It suddenly occurs to me that someone might have died down here. I really hope we’re not about to find a body or anything. I shudder at the thought. Nope, my nightmares are already vivid enough, thanks.
Lazaro hands me his phone, and I hold it up for him as high as I can so he can clearly see the doors. He starts with the one on the right, grunting as he works to turn the wheel.
“Bastard is probably seized,” he groans, straining until finally it gives way and creaks open. “I’ll go first,” he says, taking the phone back and pulling the door the rest of the way open.
Again, the air is stale, musty, and this time a bit earthy. I wrinkle my nose at the smell. Lazaro’s light flits around the pitch-black space before he finally turns to look at the wall near the door. After a moment, he walks toward it and flicks a light switch.
It’s suddenly much brighter than the hallway. I blink as my eyes adjust, then follow Lazaro inside.
“Wow,” I breathe, taking it all in.
It’s far smaller than the main room but has a similar layout. Fewer beds, no kitchen area, and the bathroom is on the left instead of the right. Toward the back are four workstations, with a smaller version of the big machine in the main room to their left, taking up the entire back wall. A smaller conference table sits to my right instead of in the middle of the room, and just like out there, there are a few loose papers and empty file folders.
I move toward them, picking them up, but it’s nothing that makes sense. One paper has a date on it.
“Nineteen forty-nine,” I say aloud.
“I have something over here that shows nineteen fifty-four,” Lazaro says, pulling my gaze over to him where he’s standing by the large machine in the back, where papers are tacked to the wall. “Looks like this place was used for a few years, at least.”
Then he turns back and says, “Let’s check the other one. See what else we can find.”
The second bunker door is just as hard to open, but Lazaro manages and finds the light switch again easily. I immediately realize this room is different from the others. It’s set up like a meeting room, with corkboards and maps lining each wall. Some places are damaged in a way that suggests whatever used to be there was ripped down. In the center of the room is another large boardroom table, and in the back left corner, a good-sized filing cabinet has been abandoned, open and empty.
“This is probably where the leaders met,” I surmise. “But why would they have it so close to the main door? Wouldn’t it make more sense for this room to be further down the hall? I mean, that tunnel keeps going.”
“American design is different from what I’m used to, but yes, that would make sense. Unless this room is a decoy; it might not have held anything of importance, but they could use it if they needed to.”
It’s a fascinating part of unknown history.
I look to the far left of the room and see another door. It opens with ease, revealing another bathroom. I close it and look around again, seeing a small wooden handle in the wall. It’s odd, and when I reach for it, it gives way easily.
Poking my head out, I realize that we’re back in the tunnel, in another recess with another door on the left wall.
“There are more exits and even more rooms. Damn, they must have been planning for an invasion or something.”
“Weren’t you just saying that in a setting like this, you never give yourself only one way out?” Lazaro muses. “Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if there are secret exits in each of these rooms—ones to the outside as well as into the other bunkers.”
The thought of discovering them excites me, but he gives me a stern look.
“No, not yet. We need to keep looking for the other way out, in case anyone finds their way in.”
“Do you really think they will?”
Lazaro shrugs. “They’re going to figure out pretty quickly that we didn’t keep running in the desert, which means they’ll start looking for places we might have hidden. If the existence of this place is mentioned anywhere, they’ll find it. We need to be ready for any possibility.”
Seriously, why are these guys so persistent?
“All right then. Let’s keep looking.”
The third bunker is bigger than the other two and looks to be the main sleeping and cooking quarters. The room has a kitchen on one side, and a good fifteen beds fill the middle of the room. There are two small bathrooms, both complete with showers.
The final bunker is smaller, the walls lined with shelves and scattered boxes on the floor, indicating it might have been used for storage. Inside one of the boxes are some well-packaged old cans. I pull out a couple of them, but of course, they’re expired by a good fifty years.
When we leave the fourth bunker, we find ourselves at what appears to be a dead end, but we can both feel and smell fresher air.
“There’s definitely a door nearby,” I mutter, studying the walls carefully.
I start moving my hands across the surfaces, trying to find a hidden latch or button, like the door upstairs and the table—there’s certainly a theme. Finally, I find a small lever, just above my head height. They clearly didn’t build their escape tunnel with a small woman in mind. When I pull it, the wall to my right cracks and releases, revealing a door that fits seamlessly into the rest of the wall.
Light pours through the crack, and fresh air fills the tunnel.
I give Lazaro a triumphant look, but it falters slightly when I see him staring at me intensely. Before I can ask him what’s wrong, he reaches out, hauls me up, and presses his mouth to mine.
My brain must short-circuit again, because I don’t even attempt to push him away. I kiss him back awkwardly, despite the voice inside my head screaming at me to stop. But he tastes so good, and I just need a little more.
When he pulls his mouth from mine, he rasps, “You amaze me, dolcezza.” Then he kisses me one more time, hard, before he sets me back on my feet, a sexy grin pulling at his lips as I sway slightly, my knees turned to jelly.
I put a hand on the wall to steady myself.
Yeah, I need to stop that ASAP. Kissing him is dangerous.
Lazaro turns and pushes the door open, the hinges screaming until we finally reveal the bottom of a sizeable hole in the ground and a ladder leading to a grate across the surface above us. Lazaro motions for me to wait as he carefully climbs it, head tilted slightly like he’s listening for noises outside. When he reaches the top, he peeks through the grate, and after a long, tense moment, he carefully pushes it up, both of us freezing when it makes a low grinding whine.
When nothing happens, he pushes it the rest of the way off and hauls himself out. I want to follow him up, but common sense tells me to stay put. After another five minutes, Lazaro comes back and calls down, “It looks like we’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“Can I come and see?”
He waves me up, and I start to climb. When I reach the top, I have to stifle a shocked gasp when he lifts me out to set me down next to him.
“Stop doing that!” I hiss in exasperation. “I know I’m tiny compared to your giant ass, but that doesn’t mean I like to leave the ground. I don’t need to see what you see.”
He rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t agree to stop. Damn it.
I look around and realize that we are indeed in the middle of the desert. Ahead of us is nothing but open, flat ground with sporadic vegetation, but behind us is a giant rock face that leads up into tall stone peaks above. Not only is this exit not visible from the road, it’s completely hidden; only someone who knows it’s here would ever be able to find it.
But that also means that if we start walking, we risk getting lost or even dying from dehydration. Outside of the bunker, the only protection from the heat of the sun is the shade from the rock face.
“It’s the perfect place to hide something like this,” I tell Lazaro.
He nods his agreement. “I’m glad we found this exit, just in case we have to get out quickly, but it’ll be safer to stay here and wait for Alonzo to arrive. I’ll give them this location as a backup.”
He pulls out his phone and sends a quick message before he turns and indicates for me to climb back in.
“Be careful,” he warns.
I ease my way down before he climbs back in, shuts the grate again, and then just jumps down the last nine feet to the bottom.
“Show-off,” I huff, turning and walking inside.
He chuckles as he follows me. He shuts the door behind us with a click, and I walk back down the hallway, grateful we left all the lights on. A little more than halfway down the tunnel, we find an old water filtration system, and another twenty feet past that is the generator station used to power the place.
We just reach the end of the hallway when Lazaro’s phone rings.
“I need to take this,” he tells me, stepping out of the tunnel.
“I’m going to explore a bit more,” I tell him.
“Be careful,” he warns, giving me a hard look.
He sure is bossy.
I wave him off and head back inside.
We have hours yet before they get here, and I love this kind of stuff. I mean, how often do you get to uncover something like this—something forgotten and full of secrets? Hell, considering it looks like no one has been here since the fifties, maybe the military has forgotten about it too. Or, they just don’t care about it.
If that’s the case, there probably isn’t anything down here that’s valuable or classified, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t secrets to uncover.
I start in the first bunker closest to the door, but after a bit of searching, I come up empty. Undeterred, I head into the next one—the meeting room.
If there’s another hidden exit, I’d bet my last dollar it’s in here, especially considering the room’s purpose.
The first place I check is the table, but I don’t find anything.
“No, that’s too easy, Amara,” I scold myself quietly. “They did that in the other room, so it would be the first thing they’d check in this one.”
I look around the space critically, then move to the cabinet. It’s a good six feet tall, so I can’t see the top or inside it. I drag one of the chairs from the table over to give myself a boost.
The top is covered in dust. The inside of the drawer appears empty, but from my angle, I can just make out something by the wall at the end of the cabinet. I squint a little, but it’s too far for me to make out clearly.
Well, looks like I’m getting dirty.
I grip the edge of the cabinet and jump, hauling myself up with a little bit of effort. It’s noisy, my clothes and shoes clattering against the metal, but I ignore it as I crawl across the top of the cabinet. I huff in disappointment when my reward is nothing but an old pen, laying discarded against a small crack in the wall.
I toss the pen aside and move my hands along the crack, feeling for any air or maybe another hidden notch. When I don’t find anything, I scoot back a bit and look down the wall. The perspective from up here is different, but nothing catches my eye to give me any clues. Guess I’ll have to get down and have a closer look.
I start to slide myself again when Lazaro suddenly shouts, “What the fuck are you doing?”
I shriek and jolt in alarm, which, of course, sets me off balance.
I grip the side of the cabinet desperately, but Lazaro crosses the room in only a few strides and scoops me off the cabinet before I can fall. His face is thunderous as he holds me against his chest.
“Are you insane?” he barks.
“I was fine until you yelled and scared me!” I bark back, glaring up at him. “Don’t you know not to scream at people who are on top of office furniture? Not everyone can see the tops of things with their feet still on the ground.”
“A smart woman like you should know better than to crawl on an old cabinet that’s probably been rusting and could give out under your weight,” he shoots back.
“Are you calling me fat?!” I yell in disbelief.
“What? No! Stop trying to twist my words. I’m saying that a damn mouse could be enough to make that rickety old thing collapse.”
That mollifies me, but only a little.
“Well, it’s fine, and I’m fine, so you have nothing to worry about. Now, put me down so I can keep looking around.”
He doesn’t do any such thing. Instead, he hitches me up higher in his arms, and I instinctively wrap my legs around him and grip his shoulders to feel steady.
His hands grip my ass, and I stiffen, but he ignores it.
“You and I need to have a talk about you putting yourself in dangerous situations, dolcezza,” he states silkily.
I do my best to ignore the tone of his voice, but damn, a girl can only do so much.
“I wasn’t in any danger,” I argue. “You’re the one who put me in danger by yelling. If you hadn’t, I’d have climbed back down on the chair and been fine.”
“And if the chair gave way or moved? You’d have fallen and hurt yourself.”
“Again with the fat comments,” I murmur.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters to himself, exasperated.
“Even if it had, I would have been fine. It’s not that much of a drop. The most I’d have done was jar something.” I purposely look down. “Not like if you drop me. From this height, I’m going to damn well break my neck.”
There’s a spark of realization in his expression before it’s replaced with determination.
“That will never happen,” he vows, and his grip on my ass tightens. “You don’t get to put yourself in danger, Amara. Ever. If you do, we’re going to have a problem, and I’m creative in my punishments.” His eyes flash, full of heated promises.
Heat pools in my belly.
Yeah, no. I’m not going there.
“See, you keep talking like we’re going to be something that we’re not,” I tell him dryly. “I never agreed to sleep with you, Lazaro, and that’s not going to change. I’m not interested in you or any other man.”
“If that’s true, why is your breathing labored and your body trembling right now?” he purrs. “Why aren’t you shoving me away? You know, when the body and mind don’t agree, I believe it’s sometimes better to listen to instinct.”
“Of course you do,” I mutter.
“Look, it’s not just you, okay? I don’t do relationships or casual sex with anyone.”
“Nothing about you and me will be casual, dolcezza.”
“Is the air down here starting to affect your head?” I demand, exasperated. “Or are you not able to hear what I’m saying?”
“I hear just fine,” he returns calmly. “But something you’re soon going to realize about me, Amara, is that when I see something I want, I go after it. I don’t give up easily. And you, dolcezza, the moment I saw you, I knew I wanted you, and I’ll do whatever I have to do to have you and keep you.”
Shocked, I stare at him.
Okay, that’s kind of hot, but also, what the fuck?
Who says things like that?
Does he expect me to just go along with this ridiculous plan of his?
His hand leaves my ass to cup the back of my neck, holding me still as his mouth descends on mine, making all those thoughts scatter. But he doesn’t kiss me outright. No, instead, he gently presses his lips to one corner of my mouth before doing the same to the other side. Then he traces his tongue along my lower lip, and I shiver in response.
I feel like my body is on fire, my nerves connected to live wires.
Is this what real desire feels like?
I thought I knew, but I was lying to myself. This is pure seduction—electric temptation.
He finally presses his mouth to mine, and I’m helpless to do anything but kiss him back. At least, I try to. I don’t have much experience in this department, other than a couple of awkward kisses a few years ago that I’ve never tried to recreate. But Lazaro must not care because he deepens the kiss, and I can only hold on to him desperately.
The taste of him is addictive, and I press closer to take more.
He gives a soft groan, and when I gasp as his grip on the back of my head tightens ever so slightly, he takes full advantage. His tongue slides into my mouth, tasting and tempting me, sending fire through my veins.
My hands curl into his neck desperately, wanting to be closer, needing more of him.
I don’t know how long we stay locked like this, but when he finally pulls away, my brain is foggy, my lips are tingly and swollen, and my breath comes out in harsh pants.
I stare at Lazaro, unsure of what to say or do, all while trying to understand the look in his dark eyes.
It’s wild, almost feral, and makes me want to see just how deep it runs.
“You are going to be the death of me, Amara,” he murmurs huskily.
Then he kisses me one more time before he pulls away and sets me back on my feet.
I learn the reason for the phrase made me weak in the knees when I have to grip his forearms to keep from stumbling.
I make the mistake of glancing down, thinking to gather my thoughts.
When I notice the tenting in his suit pants, the lustful fog in my brain quickly dissipates—but not before I blurt out, “You’re wrong. You’re going to be the death of me. Nope, hard pass. I don’t want to be split in half, thank you very much.”
He stills, and then he starts to laugh. Big, booming laughs that have me pulling away from him and glaring.
He looks at me, then dissolves into laughter again.
Asshole.
I wasn’t going to sleep with him anyway, but yeah, no.
From the looks of things, he’s big all over, and if he thinks all of that is coming anywhere near me, he is sorely mistaken.
Doesn’t matter how good of a kisser he is.
Tired of his laughing, I turn away, ready to resume my search of the room, but his hand grabs my arm and spins me around.
I glare up at him and his now red-flushed face.
“You, Amara Stanley, are adorable,” he tells me with a wicked grin.
Then he lowers his voice and adds, “I promise you, when I take you, it will fit. I’ll ensure it.”
I shudder at the erotic promise, which only makes his grin widen even further.
Smug bastard.
“Yeah, okay, whatever. Still not happening. Now, I’m done with this; I’m going exploring.”
I force myself to pull away from him.
I need to put some space between us before I forget my vow.