Chapter 8
Tessa
I have never been as terrified as I am right now.
I can’t even see Zane’s face, but knowing he’s trapped down here and using his body as a shield for mine is enough to send me into a full-blown panic attack. My life is expendable; his isn’t. He has a mom and a sister who count on him. He might even have a wife and kids by now.
What will they do if something happens to him?
Me? No one will even remember me past the funeral.
No. He shouldn’t be here. Why is he here?
My breathing is ragged. I try to remain quiet just in case our attacker comes in here to check whether or not we’re still breathing.
All while I come to the realization that someone really is after me. It’s not just some paranoid fear.
It was easy to pretend otherwise after the attack in the alley, but this erases each and every bit of doubt, leaving me with a single question: Why? What did I do to deserve this?
I have no enemies—that I can think of, anyway. The only one who might have an issue with me has spent the last six years in prison.
Who’s coming for me now? Is this just my lot in life? To spend every moment at the mercy of violence?
The storm continues to rage on just outside our shelter, but it’s nothing compared to the terror in my veins.
Zane’s body is between me and the hole we fell through, and thanks to the bright lightning outside and the lattice slats surrounding this trailer, I was able to see that his gun is aimed straight ahead.
Will he really pull the trigger?
“Zane!” A masculine voice calls out above the storm.
“Down here!” he yells back. “Come on, Tessa, we’re safe now.” He releases my hand and starts crawling forward.
But I don’t move. Safe? I don’t even know the meaning of the word.
My body trembles, and it has nothing to do with the cold.
Zane’s hand finds mine again, and he gently tugs. “Come on, we’re okay.”
I can’t even find the words to respond as I crawl through the mud toward the hole. The good news is that I can’t even feel the pain in my thigh, though after this, I imagine it’ll be particularly sore.
Still, at least, we’re alive.
We reach the hole, and large hands reach down. Zane pulls me forward, and I reach up, letting myself be pulled from the hole. The moment I’m on solid ground, a blanket comes around my shoulders.
I’ve never met the man in front of me. He towers over me, and his size rivals that of a linebacker. But his eyes are kind though his expression is hard.
“You okay?” he asks.
I nod, then turn as a man who has his back to me helps Zane from the hole.
The moment I see his face, the icy terror returns.
Crimson streaks down the side of his face, mixing with the mud from beneath the trailer.
“You’re bleeding!” I shove the blanket from my shoulders and start forward, but a large hand from the man behind me grips my arm.
I go completely still, freezing in place.
“Let her go,” Zane orders. His voice might as well be coming from underwater, though, because all I can feel is the large hand gripping my upper arm.
Rough hands. Strong hands. Hands that hurt. Breathe, Tessa.
The man releases me, but I still don’t move. My gaze is fixated on the blood smearing the right side of Zane’s face. It drips down onto the collar of his shirt, leaving a trail of red amidst the smudges of brown.
“Did you see who it was?” Zane questions.
The man with his back still to me shakes his head. “They were gone by the time we got here. Likely saw our headlights in the distance.” His voice is familiar, beyond familiar really, so when he turns toward me, I shouldn’t be so surprised.
Weston Hayes and Zane were best friends growing up. He has a long beard now, and his eyes are much harder than they once were, but there’s no mistaking him.
“Tessa,” he greets, though his tone is cold. Sharp. Unwelcoming.
Outside, the storm picks up once more. I shiver, and the blanket is placed back around my shoulders by the large man who’d grabbed my arm a few minutes ago. When I look up at him, he offers me a tight expression that is not quite a smile.
I shift my attention away from the giant at my back and focus on the man who saved my life. “Your face,” I say again.
“It’s just a graze,” he says as he reaches up and gently touches the injury.
“I have stuff.” My legs tremble as I move, the pain still just an echo in my mind, given the events we just lived through.
I don’t look to see if I’m being followed.
I just limp into my bedroom and kneel beneath the foot of my bed.
After prying the floor vent open, I reach down and grab a plastic bag.
It’s covered in dust, but the first-aid stuff I’d stashed there to tend to my injuries is still there.
“Tessa.”
I turn at the sound of Zane’s voice. The blood on his face shatters me. I sink to the floor, my shaking legs finally giving out. No matter how hard I’ve tried to keep him out of this hell I live, he always gets pulled right back in.
And this time, I don’t even know why.
Maybe it would have been better if that bullet had hit me. It would have ended the threat to his life and erased all pain from mine.
Zane crosses the distance and kneels in front of me. His strong hands grip either side of my face. “You’re safe.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about! How can you not see that! You almost died!” I scream because I can’t do anything else. Because, once again, I’m the target of someone else’s fury.
“But I didn’t. I’m okay, Tessa. And so are you.”
I close my eyes and shake my head. “You’re bleeding.”
“This is hardly the worst thing that’s happened to me,” he says.
Opening my eyes, I stare into his. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“Yes.” He drops his hands from my face. “Police are on their way, okay?”
I nod. As much as I don’t want to talk to the police, there’s not much choice now. I just have to hope that they can figure out who came after me before they succeed. It’s not like hiding will do me any good. They clearly know I’m here. And if they tracked me here, then they know my real identity.
Would running even help? Will anywhere ever be safe?
Officer Alan Leopold may be eighteen years older and have quite a few new strands of silver in his dark hair, but I’ll never forget the man who didn’t put me in handcuffs even though he had every reason to.
He gave me a chance to turn my life around.
And I wasted it.
He and Zane are standing in front of where I’m sitting on the bumper of an ambulance. They flushed and re-bandaged my thigh, and now that the adrenaline has waned, the throbbing is back with a vengeance.
“Did you get a make and model of the vehicle?” he asks Zane, who shakes his head. There’s a bandage on his cheek where the bullet grazed him, and every now and again, I catch myself staring at it.
He came so close to dying.
Centimeters off and that bullet would have stolen the very beat of his heart.
A vise clenches around my own, and I let out a ragged breath. You’re both alive, Tessa. Keep it together.
“We didn’t see it. As soon as they started shooting, we took cover.”
“We’ll run ballistics,” Leopold replies. “Whoever did this—” He turns toward the house that is now riddled with bullet holes. “This wasn’t their first time.”
The storm finally let up, leaving a muddy ground that’s rutted with tire tracks. I’d watched the CSI team take pictures and imprints of them in hopes they could find something to help identify the person who tried to take our lives.
“No,” Zane says as he turns toward the trailer. “It wasn’t.”
“So, I need to ask. With your job— Is it possible there’s someone after you?” he asks Zane. “I don’t know exactly what it is you do, but is it the type of thing that could cause something like this?” He gestures toward the trailer.
“Possibly.” Zane glances at me. “But I believe it’s Tessa they’re after.”
Officer Leopold turns toward me. “Any ideas who or why?”
I shake my head and cross my arms, debating getting up so I don’t feel so small. “I was attacked outside of my apartment in Savannah, but I assumed it was a separate incident. Now, I’m not so sure. But I have no idea who or why. I haven’t done anything.”
“Is Savannah where you’ve been?” he asks. I don’t miss the sharpness in his tone. He’s angry that I left without a word, too. And why wouldn’t he be? Given he’s a cop, I bet he spent a lot of time trying to find me.
“For the last few years, yeah.”
“And you don’t have any enemies?”
“None that are walking free.”
Zane stiffens.
“Care to elaborate?” Leopold asks.
No, I don’t, because you’ll have to arrest me, too. “My dad is dead.”
He makes a note on his pad, then closes it and slips it into his pocket. “You’re both very lucky to be alive.”
Don’t I know it.
“Thanks, Alan,” Zane says.
“Yeah. I’ll keep you updated. In the meantime, I’d like to assign a protective detail to you, Tessa.”
“What? No.” Old fear slices through the new threat, and I shake my head.
“No need, she’ll be with me,” Zane says.
“What? No I won’t. I can take care of myself.”
“It’s me or an officer,” Zane says, his tone leaving no room for arguing.
Now, I stand. “I’m thirty-six years old, Zane. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“And I’m not asking. Someone tried to kill you—and me by proxy. Until they find out who, it would be a reckless decision to not accept help.” His gaze hardens, and I open my mouth to argue back—but then my gaze lands on his bandaged cheek.
On the dried blood crusted to his neck and the mud-covered shirt he’s wearing.
“Fine.”
“Which one?” Officer Leopold asks.
“Zane.” As much as I need distance, I don’t imagine I’ll get it even if I accept the police protection. Zane will still be nearby. He’s stubborn like that.
“Great. I’ll keep you both posted. Are you sure neither of you wants to go to the hospital?”
“No,” Zane says. “A hot shower will do some good.” He shakes Officer Leopold’s outstretched hand.
“Understood. I’ll be in touch.” He waves and turns away, leaving me standing here, frustration pushing past everything else.