30 Seconds (9 page)

A psycho had kidnapped a pretty girl and her hot boyfriend was coming to save her. The minutes were winding down and her boyfriend was so close to where the kidnapper had stashed her. Dani was on the edge of her seat when breaking news interrupted the show with five minutes left to the end.

“Son-of-a—”

“We have interrupted your regularly scheduled programming,” the reporter announced.

“No kidding,” she muttered angrily. Now she wouldn’t know if the boyfriend got there in time.

“Gunshots have been fired inside the Cleveland Police Station.”

She stopped in the act of switching off the TV. “We’re going to Leslie Donald who is at the scene.” Her heart slowed when the image changed and she could see the police station. A dozen police cars were jammed in front of the building, their lights flashing. The doors to the police cars were open and officers huddled behind them with their guns drawn.

“Leslie, what is happening?”

“A group of twenty or so men stormed a Cleveland Police Station after one o’clock this afternoon with semi-automatic weapons, shot guns, and AK47s. There have been two explosions inside the building, possibly from grenades or other handheld devices. Many police officers were inside the building when the attack started, including the Chief of Police, Jackson Witten. The situation has been going on for over thirty minutes and it doesn’t seem to be letting up. Even now, you can hear multiple gunshots being fired. We don’t know yet if there have been any casualties”

“Who are these men?” the anchor at the news station asked.

“It has been confirmed that the men who stormed the police station are the ones responsible for killing ten police officers back in December.”

Dani’s heart stopped.
No, no, no.

She watched the live feed, barely breathing. The gunfire never ceased, but every few minutes, it magnified as though a hundred guns were going off at once. A second S.W.A.T truck from a neighboring precinct arrived and heavily-suited men erupted from the back. Emergency vehicles were on standby.

She sat in front of the TV, fear pumping through her like a drug, and her hands clamped around the remote because she was too afraid to let go of it
.

Maybe he’s not inside
.
Maybe he got stuck in traffic on the way to work. Maybe he was patrolling the streets when they attacked the station.

So many maybes…

She continued to watch as police officers from neighboring cities joined the chaos. They surrounded the building, stood beside their fellow men and women in arms, but no one went inside to help the officers fighting for their lives. They were waiting for the battle to end, for the shooters to come out. By then, it would be too late to help the officers inside.

“We just got confirmation of the police officers who are inside the police station.” The footage went back to the newsroom where a man and woman sat behind a glossy table. “Dominique Anderson, Phillip Bane, David Briggs, Steven Corbin, Jonathon Dane, Vincent Evers, Thomas Farris, Blake Herro—”

When she heard his name, the walls around her caved in, burying her alive. She couldn’t even hear the names of the other officers. All she could hear was his name over and over again in her head. She stamped her hand over her mouth to stop a cry from flying free.

In thirty seconds, her life had flipped upside down.

I didn’t confess my love to him to lose him now! I don’t want one night with him, I want hundreds.
God, please protect him. Keep him safe. Bring him home to me!

“We’re being told S.W.A.T. is moving in.”

She hugged the remote to her chest when the live chopper feed came on and she saw a group of S.W.A.T approach the front door. They stood there, hunched behind their shields. Seconds later, they scrambled back to take cover. Then the front door blew up and they ran inside. The blaze of gunfire grew louder. She held her breath.

“Please get Blake out safely, get them all out of there safely.” She couldn’t help but cry out to the walls around her.

All of a sudden, a blast blew out the front windows of the building. Flames rolled out of the empty windowpanes and screams filled the air. She watched in horror as the police officers surrounding the building lifted into the air. The camera for the station she was watching shook violently and fell to the ground. Static erupted over the screen before it turned black.

She grabbed the sides of the TV. “No!”

The stricken reporters who were safe behind their news desk blinked into the camera lens. “We are sorry, but we have lost footage. We will work to re-establish communication with our team on location and get back to you.”

“Ah!” She collapsed onto the floor, feeling helpless and sick. She clutched her hands over her heart. Her body vibrated in terror as endless sobs broke from her body.

A moment later, she dragged herself off the ground, sought another channel with live footage, and watched the jittery feed from the camera in the chopper hovering above the scene. The shooting had spread into the parking lot where the mobsters were making a stand; snipers were taking them out left and right. Police officers were crowded behind cars, trees, and walls and were shooting for their lives.

At six o’clock, the news anchors at the station reported that two out of the twenty something assailants were still alive. The odds were against them, but they weren’t giving up. The camera in the chopper zoomed in on one of the men as he took out a grenade, but a sniper shot him before he could pull the pin. Only one remained then and he refused to die. He shot two S.W.A.T members and three police officers before he was finally gunned down. By eight o’clock, the death toll had mounted to forty-seven and was climbing.

Not feeling safe enough to venture out of Blake’s house, she called her hospital, demanding to know if a police officer by the name of Blake Herro was there. If he was, they didn’t know. Many police officers had been brought in, but names hadn’t been processed on all of them yet. She hung up the phone and turned to the TV only to hear the names of the fallen officers weren’t being released yet.

Minutes crawled by. She paced back and forth, waiting for nine o’clock to come. When it did, she held her breath for a whole half hour. One minute past nine-thirty, a tear rolled down her cheek. Blake would’ve been home.

She sat on the couch as fear took its toll on her body. She hadn’t done anything but worry and pray since the news had first broken. She hadn’t eaten, gone to the bathroom, or taken a moment to breathe. She fell asleep when her exhaustion became too much.

Hours later, a sound snapped her awake. Lying in the darkness, she could have sworn she had heard the front door close. She sat up slowly, her hand on Blake’s gun, and eyed the hallway. Was Red coming for her now? Would she even care if he wanted to kill her?

She pushed to her feet and lifted the gun as the sound of someone approaching grew closer. Then a dark figure stepped into view. She had to blink to see clearly. When she could see, her mouth dropped. She tossed the gun on the couch and threw herself at Blake. They kissed urgently.

“I was so scared,” she said as she smothered his face in kisses. “Oh God, Blake.” She looked into his eyes. “I thought you were dead. I thought they got you.”

He shook his head. “You have me.” He held her tightly. “When I was trapped in the station with guns going off all around me, my men dying left and right, I told myself I was coming home to you and no one, not even Red, was going to stop me. I love you, Dani.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “I love you, too.” She pulled him to her, demanding his lips while her shaky fingers unbuttoned his black uniform. She paused at the Kevlar vest. Tears welled in her eyes. She tugged at the vest. “Take it off.”

He ripped off the Velcro and dropped the heavy vest on the floor. He took her into his arms and covered her mouth. She clutched his white T-shirt. With her hands still shaking, she pulled the shirt over his head. Her palms slid up his abs, down his back, and took his hands.

“Come here.” She pulled him to the fireplace and tugged him to the floor. She trailed hot, greedy kisses down his chest, whispering, “I’m going to savor every second with you.”

Chapter Nine

All the exhaustion from yesterday kept Dani asleep for hours after Blake left to return to the police station. She didn’t want him to go back, but understood why he needed to be there.

When the phone rang, yanking her out of her sleep, panic settled in. What if something happened at the police station while she was asleep? She answered it with her heart banging in her throat.

“Hello.”

No reply.

“Hello?”

When the other end stayed silent, she yanked the phone from her ear and slammed it down. She sprang out of the bed, wrapping the white comforter around her naked body, and hugged herself in reassurance. The phone rang again. She spun about, eyeing it with big, frightened eyes. She stepped slowly toward it as though it were a ticking bomb. She lifted the receiver, her hand shaking.

“Hello?”

“Hey, beautiful.”

She closed her eyes. “Blake, it’s you.”

“Of course it is. I’m calling to check up on you.”

She smiled. “That’s very thoughtful. I just woke up.” She paused. “How are things at the police station?”

“It’s a disaster. Red’s men killed a lot of officers yesterday. All the police departments in Cleveland are on high alert.”

“Can you do me a favor?” she said.

“Anything for you.”

“Stay safe.” It wasn’t a request, it was a demand.

“I will. I promise.”

She took his promise and held it to her heart.

“I have to go,” he told her. “I’ll be back around seven-thirty. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Bye.” She hung up the phone with a smile and got up to take a long, hot shower to melt away the stress from the previous day. After she changed into a sweater and jeans, she made herself some pancakes and a giant cup of hot chocolate to enjoy on the couch in front of the fireplace. She felt good. For the first time since the Mob exploded into her apartment, everything felt okay.

She spent the rest of the day trying to find something to do as she anxiously waited for Blake to return. She missed being at the hospital, yearned for the chaos of the E.R. She still wondered about Tara, the girl who had been in the terrible car accident.

To keep busy, and to keep her mind off Blake and Tara, she did what any woman would do. She dusted, polished, and swept to loud rock music. When the whole place was spotless, she baked cookies.

Hours later, as the sun dipped from the sky, she roamed restlessly from room to room. That was how she found an office at the top of the stairs which she had always assumed was a storage closet.

She scanned the books on a mahogany bookcase. Most of the titles were of crime novels and thrillers. She even spotted a few supernatural thrillers about a god and an angel. She took one off the shelf and flipped through it with a smile. She hadn’t expected this to be a part of his reading collection. She slipped it back into place and continued to roam.

She looked at the pictures scattered around the room. One was of him as a rookie, clean-shaven and proud. She moved to the desk positioned in front of the window, looked down at the book spread out in front of the laptop, and grinned when she realized it was a yearbook. The heading on the two-page spread indicated the pictures were of the senior class. She picked it up.

“Where are you, Blake?”

She ran her finger down the list of names on the left and paused when she saw the name Blake Junior Harding. He had the same cute curls and blue eyes. “Gosh, you look like a heartbreaker,” she said to his smiling portrait. “I bet all these girls had a major crush on you.” Her gaze moved over the two pages, over the many faces of pretty girls, to the corner of the right page. A note was written there in a girl’s handwriting.

“Blake,” she read aloud, “you didn’t even have to ask. I wouldn’t want to go to the prom with anyone but you. Love, Elle.” The second she read the name, she stopped breathing. Her mind flashed back to the moment in the woods after their snowball fight when he had called her Elle.

With her heart thumping, she looked at the names. Her eyes widened when she saw her name in print. “Oh my gosh,” she gasped. Her eyes fastened onto the picture of herself at eighteen, her red hair rolling over her shoulders like ocean waves. She looked from her picture to Blake’s, her eyes misting. Suddenly, pain shot through her skull and she was whiplashed into the past. She was eighteen again.
Insecure, young, and totally in love.

****

Arms encircled her as she closed her locker. She smiled, turned in the embrace, and wrapped her arms around Blake’s neck. He was wearing a Letterman jacket and was handsomely young.

“Hey, you,” she said. “I can’t wait for our date tonight. This’ll sound very girly, but I’ve been dreaming about prom ever since I was twelve.”

Blake kissed her lightly on the lips. “Without sounding too cheesy, it’s going to be magical.”

“Going with you makes it magical,” she admitted.

Blake pressed his lips to the back of her hand. “Tonight a chariot is going to pick you up and bring you to the ball. Like Cinderella.”

A big smile bloomed on her face. “I can’t wait to dance with you all night long.”

The memory transformed and now she was in her childhood bedroom with the pale-yellow walls and a purple bed. She was sitting in front of her vanity and her heart was racing. She had waited for this night for so long. She may be the fastest track runner in the whole county and she may prefer to wear jeans and sneakers, but she had dreamed about wearing a glamorous dress and slow dancing with Blake beneath a glittering disco ball.