Five
My breath leaves me at his words. Then I drop my head into my hands. Curses and pointed conversation blossoms all around me between Pitbull, Malcolm, and Lenny. And as much as I don’t want to be pulled off my shift, tonight or any night, the sensible part of me knows that it has to happen. Yes, I took an oath to help others, but I can’t continue to do that if I’m dead.
A shudder runs through me as a pitiful moan escapes my lips. Then everything goes quiet and two strong hands grip my shoulders. When Pitbull speaks, his voice is pained.
“Lorna, look at me.”
After a deep breath, I lower my hands to my lap. When I lift my head, he’s right there. Nothing but concern and determination reflected in his eyes.
“Yeah.”
“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” he says softly. “I swear it.”
“I believe you,” I tell him.
“I’ll stay with Malcolm while he assesses the victims at the next scene. When we’re en route, we’ll make a quick stop so we can get in another vehicle and be taken to a secure location.”
“Okay,” I nod. “But…what about my family? Can I tell them what’s going on?”
“Not tonight,” he sighs.
I nod again. Then I pull back and close my eyes as I try to wrap my head around this nightmare that has now become my life. I try not to listen to Pitbull’s clipped conversation as he makes the arrangements. I’ve heard about protective custody before, but I never thought I’d have to experience it. And what the hell am I going to do wherever I’m going? I’m in my damn work clothes with only my cellphone. What the fuck am I going to do with myself?
Unbidden, an image of Pitbull looming over me pops into my mind. I bolt upright and shake my head. But it doesn’t stop my body from warming at the thought.
“You okay?” Malcolm asks.
“Yeah,” I nod. “I just…I don’t know.”
“Yeah, I feel ya on that,” he says.
I give him a small smile as he wraps his arm around my shoulders. We stay like this until we’ve reached the scene. I grip Malcolm’s wrist before he rises.
“Be careful,” I whisper.
He smiles and gives me a wink. Then he rises and goes to the door where Pitbull is ready to exit as well. His face is calm and determined. Then he gives me a nod and pushes the door open. With nothing to do, I stay where I am and try to relax.
Not a chance.
In less than five minutes, Malcolm and Pitbull come back for the stretcher. They return in another two with a somewhat combative man with a gunshot wound. Without being asked, I rise and help Pitbull restrain him while Malcolm tries to treat him. Before I can help him, the ambulance stops, and the back door pops open again. Pitbull grabs my elbow and I follow him out. Another agent gets in the ambulance with Malcolm, and I climb into the back of an SUV with Pitbull.
“Do you know which location we’re using?” he asks the driver.
“Charlie two.”
“Affirmative,” Pitbull says.
Nothing more is said. I look down at my hands as they twist in my lap. Suddenly, Pitbull reaches over and covers them with his own. I gasp and look over at him. With our gazes locked on one another, he gently entwines his left hand with my right. The small gesture of comfort from the giant, intense man almost breaks me. Yet I welcome it. Hell, I need it right now.
He doesn’t look away until the driver tells him that we’ve arrived. Then I watch as he takes in the immediate area. When the SUV comes to a stop, he finally looks at me again.
“Stay put while I clear the area.”
“Okay.”
He squeezes my hand just before he turns and hops out. The quiet now is unnerving. So much so, I actually jump when Pitbull opens his door again.
“Come on.”
He offers me his hand and I take it and let him help me slide over and out of the vehicle. After he shuts the door, his places his hand on the small of my back and hustles me toward a nondescript apartment building. We disappear into the stairwell and head up to the second floor. On the small landing, he takes me to the second door on the right and walks me inside. Once the door’s locked, the gravity of my situation hits me once again.
No sooner do I start to sway; Pitbull catches me and carries me to the bed in the small studio apartment. Very gently, he settles me on it. Then his torso hovers over mine as he talks me through my second panic attack of the night.
“Deep and easy breaths, Lorna,” he says as he caresses my cheek. “Stay with me, sweetheart. You’re going to get through this. And I’m going to be with you. Just breathe, okay? Deep and easy. Nice and slow. There you go. That’s it, sweetheart. You got this.”
Seeing the soft side of this mountainous man is touching. And when I once again open my eyes and meet his concerned stare, I ask the question without thinking. And without realizing how it will affect things between us.
“What’s your name?”
Something in his expression falters for a moment. Then, as if he’s steeling his nerve, he takes a deep breath before answering.
“Ashley.”
I smile at him. He smiles back.
“Thank you,” I tell him. “For what you did just now.”
“It was my pleasure,” he says in a low voice.
“I don’t know about that,” I giggle.
“It was,” he nods. “But…can I ask a favor of you?”
“Of course.”
His eyes roam all over my face for a second before he continues.
“Say my name, Lorna,” he whispers.
My smile widens. And I gently brush my hand over his cheek before giving him what he wants.
“Thank you…Ashley.”