Chapter 16 Hannah
HANNAH
“Engaged?” I repeat the word back. “We’re not engaged, Thomas, we aren’t even dating.”
Thomas looks up at the ceiling, closing his eyes. “I need you to trust me, Hannah. Can you do that?”
“Thomas what are you—”
“I told them we’re engaged,” he interrupts me.
I let his words simmer in my brain, and I don’t know what to say.
He told them we were engaged? Why would he do that?
We barely know each other. There is no way anyone would believe that we are engaged.
It’s not believable. I mean, we only had our first date tonight, and with how much this town talks, everyone will know it’s fake.
“Why did you do that?” I ask, my voice shaking.
He drops his gaze to mine. His hands are still cupping my cheeks, and I try to slow my breathing. “The only way they’d let you come with me is if we were engaged, or married.”
Thomas hesitates for a long moment, studying my reaction before continuing.
“The thought of anything happening to you makes me sick, Hannah. I need to know you’re safe.
I promise I’m not trying to scare you, but the man who shot Henry was watching us tonight.
He saw you, and knows you’re someone important to me. ”
I don’t think about myself at this moment. “What about your family? Then they clearly know your family too,” I stammer.
“I know,” he soothes, rubbing his thumb across my cheek, swiping tears I haven’t realized have fallen. “Elena has assured me that my family is safe, but Hannah, I can’t go, knowing you’re here alone.”
I try to process the way tonight has undoubtedly changed my life. I could tell him no, that I’m not going to go along with it and stay home. I have to look after my grandma, I have a job, an apartment, a life.
Something is holding me back from telling him no, though.
“Okay.” My voice shakes as I speak.
“Hannah,” he breathes my name. He rests his forehead against mine, and his breathing shutters.
His palms shake as they grasp my cheeks.
It hits me then. He's as scared as I am.
It feels like earlier when he was about to kiss me, only this time, the stakes are higher.
His life's in danger. Heck, maybe mine is too.
My fingers twist in his shirt, his warm body heat radiates through the material to caress my skin. “Can I kiss you now?” Thomas asks again. This time, it’s more of a plea than a request.
I nod, even though I’m terrified.
I suck in a sharp breath when he tilts his head, and my eyes fall closed as I anticipate what will happen next.
My fingers thread in the cotton of his shirt, my heart pounding in my ears. Then, his lips caress mine. It’s a slow movement, but it sends goosebumps flaring across my skin. I lean into the kiss a bit more. He’s still taking the lead, but I’m allowing him to.
Thomas’s lips are soft and gentle as he opens my mouth with his, and his tongue slides against my lower lip.
I hold my breath, unsure of what I’m supposed to do.
I mean, you see kisses all the time in movies, read them in books, but it’s not like there’s a manual on how to kiss someone properly. Right?
I try to keep my brain calm, to keep me in the moment, but I can feel the anxious thoughts creeping in at the edges. You’re not good enough. Why does he want me? He’s going to regret this.
The door flies open behind us, and Thomas pulls back, removing his lips from mine.
I just had my first kiss in a dingy room at the police station.
A dark-haired woman enters, followed by the chief.
“We’ve received approval from the safe house that they’ll be ready for you.
You’ll have two hours to pack your things and make any arrangements.
Hannah, we’ve already alerted your boss to the situation, and made him aware that you will be out for an extended length of time. ”
The reality of the situation slowly dawns on me. It’s one in the morning. If I have two hours to pack, I won’t get to say goodbye to my sister, Tiff, or my grandma. I won’t get to fully explain to them what’s happening. My breaths come in quick succession, my thoughts going hazy again.
Thomas has me pulled into his arms before I can fully process it. He speaks low so no one else can hear. “What do you need, freckles?”
“Ice,” I murmur. I need something to ground me right now, and while Thomas’s embrace is helping, it’s not enough right now. This is all happening so fast.
“Can I get a cup of ice?” Thomas asks, or rather, demands. The door opens and closes again, and I swear I’m getting emotional whiplash from the last few hours.
I went from having one of the best nights ever, to being sent into protective custody with the man who gave me my first kiss mere minutes ago. I feel lost, spiraling out of control.
Thomas cups my cheeks, and I can vaguely sense him telling me to breathe with him while we wait. I follow his instructions, and it helps, but it’s not quite enough.
“Here’s the ice,” someone says as the door opens and closes. One of Thomas’s hands leaves my face to grab the cup of ice, and he holds it between us. I take it from his hand and bring it to my lips, tipping it and letting one of the small cubes slide into my mouth.
I rest it on my tongue, letting the painful cold help ground me, and calm myself. I don’t know what it is about ice, but it helps me, more than any medication or other technique has.
After a few minutes of the ice melting in my mouth, I can breathe normally again, and my head feels semi-clear. There’s still intense anxiety surrounding the situation and what's to come, but for now, I feel better.
“Sorry,” I murmur, taking another ice cube into my mouth.
“Hey, don’t apologize,” Thomas says, swiping a tear from my cheek. “Are you ready to sit down? I think Elena has some more information for us.”
I don’t miss the way he cringes, as if he’s hoping talking about the inevitable won’t spur me into my third panic attack of the night.
We sit down in the uncomfortable metal chairs, and Elena holds out some paperwork for us.
“We have an older couple that lives on a farm in southern Missouri that the FBI has on standby for situations like these. He’s a former agent, and knows how to keep you safe.
We’ve contacted them, and they are available to take you in for the time being. ”
Thomas rests a hand on my thigh, stroking his thumb on the bare skin there, and squeezing gently. My clothes are still covered in dried blood, but thankfully, my skin is clean. It’s enough to send goosebumps fluttering all over my skin.
Elena pauses, letting the information sink in before she continues.
“While there, you are to have no social media, no contact with your families, except through the burner phone that we provide you. We will bring you to your house once we are done here and give you time to pack. An officer will be with you the whole time to keep watch.” She slides a basic cell phone across the table.
“Can we call our family now?” I ask, needing to talk with them. To explain.
“Yes, you can use the station phone to call, but you cannot give them any details on what happened tonight, only that you are safe, and need to go away for a while,” Elena says, her voice steady and firm. “If you tell them any details, you risk compromising their safety too.”
I nod quickly, knowing I would do anything to keep them safe. Thomas squeezes my thigh again. He reaches out and grabs the phone from the table, shoving it in his pocket. I stand, taking the cup of ice with me as I do.
“Can we use an office?” Thomas asks, his brow raising. His blonde hair is still a disheveled mess from today, but at least now there isn’t any blood in it. He must have cleaned up after I did.
“Yes, that’s fine,” Elena agrees. Thomas takes my hand in his, and leads me down the hall toward the offices that are empty in the middle of the night.
He opens the door to the furthest one down, and I take in the room. It’s nearly empty aside from the basic desk, with a few scattered file folders on it, a computer and a desk phone. Leading me to sit in the chair, he kneels beside me, tucking a hair behind my ear.
“Do you want to do this alone?” he asks, and while I appreciate the gesture, I don’t think I can do it alone.
“No, please don’t leave me,” I beg. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You can do this, but if you need me to, I can take the lead,” Thomas says. My heart pounds. I’ve always been on the other end of the call, the one receiving bad news, so to be the one giving it tonight is hard.
“Is this really happening?” I ask. I know that it is, but I need to be sure. If I have to call the people I love most in this world, and tell them I’m leaving for an unknown length of time, then I need to know this is real.
Thomas frowns, brows turning down. “You have no idea how much I wish this weren’t happening, that this wasn't the way we would be getting to know each other, Hannah. But, it’s real. It’s happening.”
I nod. That was the confirmation that I didn’t want, but needed. I have both Grandma and Julia’s numbers memorized, so I dial Julia first. I put it on speaker, because I’m not sure I’d be able to hold the phone to my ear with how badly my hands are shaking.
Honestly, I’m not even sure where my actual cell phone is.
The line rings and rings until I’m not sure she will pick up, but then at the last second, my sister's voice comes across the line. “Hello?” she sounds breathless and anxious, though I suppose I would be too if I were getting a call from an unknown number at almost two in the morning.
“Julia? It’s Hannah,” I greet her.
“Oh my god, Hannah, where are you?” Julia asks. “We’ve been worried sick. You weren’t answering our calls or texts.” In the background, I hear rustling and a whispered, “It’s Hannah. No, I don’t know, I just answered.” There’s a pause, and then, “You’re on speaker.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell them. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“What happened? Why are you calling from this number?” Julia asks.