ENFORCER, page 5
Resting the suitcase on the bed, I turn around, examining the room. There are two doors. One, I presume, is a closet and the other, the bathroom. Biting my lower lip, I reach for the handle and slide the door open; my heart stops as I immediately spy tile, men’s jeans, and the silhouette of a man in a shower. Slamming the door hard and covering my mouth, I stumble back two paces and trip onto the bed.
“God, can I be any more obvious?” Groaning and pressing my hot face into my hands, I can only hope that he didn’t hear me slam the door like a child. It’s ridiculous. I shouldn’t be this nervous to be around someone who has expressed no interest in me, other than asking me to dance at a wedding a few weeks ago. Forget the shower; I’ll just put on pajamas, then check my phone and go to bed.
Making sure the bathroom and bedroom door is locked, I turn back to the suitcase and neatly unpack my bag, pulling out my long sleeve button-up pajamas that Holly got me to use for Christmas: They’re a matching set with whimsical black polka dots. Perhaps it doesn’t seem like something that a grown woman would wear, but there was something so charming about matching with my daughter. It reminds me of when she was young, and when I was young. I got lucky that I left some clothes at my parents’ house and they brought them to me when picking up Holly. I quickly slide into my pajamas.
I pull out my bathroom kit, relieved to hear that the shower is off. Maybe I could use his bathroom to brush my teeth and apply my evening face mask and then quietly slip to bed. Opening the hall door, rather than opening the bathroom, I stand and listen as he whistles through the door. ‘What is it with men taking so long in the bathroom?’ I wonder, strolling down the hallway, my feet sliding softly across the carpet.
Reaching my phone, I’m relieved to see only one text; it’s from Holly. “Hey Mom, I miss you! Grandma made meatloaf for dinner again. Yuck.” Smiling down at my daughter’s beautiful face, I quickly dial her number.
“Hey, Mom! How are you doing?” she asks. I hear noise and the clatter of pans in the background.
“Just getting ready for bed. What about you?”
“Oh, grandma is trying to cook again,” she shutters, and I can’t help but laugh.
“I don’t think she’s that bad!”
“That’s because you’re used to her, having grown up with her” she argues, her voice hushed as the sounds of pots and pans grows farther away. “Mom, where are you? I miss you! Are you at a hotel?”
“Yes, another hotel. Actually, no. I was at the hotel, but not anymore,” I correct, walking back to the bedroom with the charger and then plugging it into the wall next to the bed. “Right now, I’m staying at a friend’s house,” I say.
“Which one?” she asks.
“Um, you may not know him. Jake,” I say, partly hoping that she doesn’t know him.
“Jake? Jake Griffin?” she asks her voice raised.
“Yes! Be quiet!” I say.
“Why are you staying there and not a hotel?” she demands. Sighing and flogging myself in the bed, I close my eyes.
“That’s a really long story, sweetie.”
“I have time,” she argues.
“No, you really don’t, because your grandma’s gonna come looking for you soon.”
“Oh, you’re probably right. She’ll try to give me a second helping of meatloaf!”
“Just get back to her!” I smile. Sliding my hand up over my face, pushing back the tears that fight to come forward.
“I miss you, mom!”
“I miss you too, sweetheart. Have a good night.”
“Okay. Good night, mom.”
“Good night, Holly.”
I keep the phone pressed to my ear until she hangs up before setting down the phone. Shutting my eyes tight, refusing to cry, I inhale deeply, then exhale slowly. Now is not the time for this. Crawling into bed and pulling the sheets up high to my neck, I only hope that Jake doesn’t need anything in here because the doors are locked and the lights are out, and I have to sleep this off; It’s the only way I will survive.
I jumped up right in bed, my heart pounding in my chest. What woke me up?
“Diana! Diana!” a voice shouts from the hallway, as I begin coughing, gasping for air.
“Diana! Can you hear me? Open up!” the voice calls, and I hear a loud thump at the door. Jumping up out of bed, disoriented by the smoke around me, I reach for the lamp, flicking it on just as Jake smashes in through the door, knocking it off its frame and collapsing onto the floor.
“Diana! Are you alright?” He coughs as I whirl around the room, looking for the source of the smoke.
“Where’s your cough coming from?”
“I guess, I think, the entire building is on fire,” he says.
“The entire building?” I ask in confusion, whirling around, trying to decide what to do. “I don’t know what to do!” Grabbing me by the arm, Jake pulls me down the hall and pushes me to the floor. The hallway is thick with smoke as fire alarms go off in the building.
“Come on! We have to get out of here!” he says. “There’s a fire escape in the hall. Follow me,” he says, crawling ahead of me and glancing back every couple of seconds to make sure I am close behind him. I keep my eyes fixed on his boots as we make our way to the front door.
It hurts to breathe. My lungs fill with soot, and I feel dizzy. As I crawl further through, the dimly lit room goes dark.
“What happened?” I ask panic welling up inside of me.
“We lost power,” he says. “Come on. Stay close! We’re almost out the door.” Crawling until I run into him, I hear his hand turn the knob, pulling the door open as a thick cloud of smoke flashes into our room, and the double red flashing lights of the emergency power illuminates the hall. “Let’s go. Hold your breath. Just pull your shirt over your nose,” he orders as we continue to crawl below the heaviest portion of smoke and reach the end of the hallway. This should be it,” he says, his voice raspy, and panic bubbles within me as a flashback overwhelms me.
I freeze, unable to move as an explosion down the hall echoes, shaking me to my core. I find myself no longer in the hallway with Jake, but in my bathroom, while my home burns around me. Suffocating. Someone’s screaming.
“Diana!” Jake’s familiar voice snaps, and I feel him jerk my shoulder. “Diana! We have to leave!” I can’t move. All I can do is stare, squinting. Close to my face are dark eyes, reflecting the pulsing lights of the hall. He nods, then, rising, throws me over his shoulder and climbs out the window to the fire escape. There are sirens below and more flashing lights. I have time to wonder why sirens and ambulances use such frequencies when they can trigger seizures.
Opening my eyes, my head lowing side to side, I groan; my head hurts, and the air feels too tight in my chest. All this smoke can’t be good for me, especially so soon. I double over, choking for the air around me. My panicked lungs can’t comprehend what’s happening.
“Hey there! it’s okay!” he says, tapping me on the shoulder. “It’s alright. Just breathe. Breathe deeply and slowly. In through the nose, out the mouth,” he orders, rubbing my shoulder.
“Where are we?” I ask, looking around, finding myself inside a moving car.
“Somewhere in Wyoming.” I sit up quickly, looking around.
“Wait... what? We’re in Wyoming? You know what, I certainly hope so,” I say, coughing hard again. “We live in Wyoming.”
“Yes, well, let’s just say that we’re not gonna be in Wyoming for long.”
“What do you mean?” I ask mechanically and look around. The trees of our town are gone, giving way to a barren looking landscape suitable only to cattle ranchers and semi-drivers.
“We have to get you away from here,” he says.
“What are you talking about? I’ve already run off with you once and look where it landed me! I nearly died in a second fire!”
“Two fires in a matter of weeks. You know, what do you think the odds are of that?” he asks, turning to me, challenging me. “We’re dealing with some kind of arsonist who’s stalking you. Do you really think she will stop, now? Have you any idea how many people were injured in the fire tonight?” he asks, and I start to argue.
“Do you?”
“Two thousand people live in my building, Diana.” I open my mouth and close it. Two thousand people. They are likely home at that time of night. He shakes his head. “If I take you to a hotel, now, how many people are we willing to put at risk? How many people are worth your life?” he snaps. “Christ’s sake woman; listen to me. We have to leave. We have to get as far away as we can to protect the people around you,” he says, shaking his head. “Fire. Dying in a burning building is a horrible way to go,” he murmurs, his eyes hard on the road.
“I can’t help it!” I start to cry, quietly turning my face out to the landscape, still in my pajamas. “I’m sorry, Jake,” I mumble.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. It’s only your fault if you put people at risk from being stupid,” he says, and I nod. “We have to get you somewhere off-grid until we can get our bearings and know who and what we’re dealing with,” he says. “How did they even find us?” he asks. “No one knew that you left the hotel. Not the chief. Not Noah,” he says trailing off.
“Holly.”
“What do you mean?” he demands.
“I called Holly while you were in the shower. I told her that I was staying at your apartment and we left the hotel.”
“Goddamnit, Diana!”
“I didn’t know I couldn’t!” I argue, irritation welling within me. “I didn’t know I couldn’t make a phone call to my daughter! Why wouldn’t I be able to?”
“No. Someone burned down your home. They tried to kill you. And you were booked in a hotel under a fake name.” He stares at me, his eyes full of shock.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t use your phone because it’s been tapped. Erase social media, because if logged in, it checks you in for wherever you are. Facebook is the fucking worst,” he says, throwing his arms in the air. “You don’t have your phone, do you?” he checks, turning to me.
“No. It was at the apartment, you know.”
“Good. I don’t have mine either,” he says.
“How are we going to tell people we’re okay?” I am watching the landscape behind him zoom past us at a heart stopping speed.
“We won’t,” he says with a nod. “We go dark. We don’t tell anyone anything. As far as anyone knows, we died in the fire. They’ll be rummaging through the remains of that building for days.”
“I hope everyone got out.” Hot tears trickle down my face as I turn to face the passenger window. “I don’t want Holly to think that I’m dead.”
“Better for her to think you’re dead, but for you to not actually be dead,” he says so callously. I turn to face him.
“That’s my child,” I say.
“Yes. If you want her to keep having a mother, know letting her think the worst until we get this sorted out is the best thing for her,” he says, turning to me. “Don’t do anything stupid, again. It’s not just your life you’re putting at risk; it’s mine too,” he says, shaking his head.
“If we’re totally cut off from the world,” I say, adjusting my seatbelt, “how are we going to figure out who’s after me? How are we going to have a plan of attack?” I ask.
“I’ll figure that out as I go on. One thing at a time. But for right now, let’s just focus on getting somewhere safe and not revealing ourselves to anyone.
“Okay.” I nod, looking out the window. “Where are we going?” I ask.
“North Dakota,” he says.
“North Dakota?” I demand. “Why the hell would I go to North Dakota?”
“Exactly,” Jake says, smiling at me.
“Have you ever been to North Dakota, before?” I wonder.
“I’ve been there a time or two. You know; quiet place, rugged terrain. Most people forget about it. Kind of like Idaho, that way,” he says with a shrug.
“So why not go to Idaho?” I ask.
“Because I have connections in North Dakota.”
“Of course you do,” I say, shaking my head. “I feel like you have connections everywhere.”
“Not everywhere, but I’m working on it,” he says sparing me a small smile.
“I’m really sorry about what happened earlier. I didn’t know that it would put us at risk. I would never be able to forgive myself if I thought that I was responsible for the deaths of all those people.”
“I know,” he says with a nod. “We’ll keep an eye out for it. It’s possible that they all escaped,” Jake says, his jaw setting in hard lines.
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see like everyone else,” I whisper.
“I guess so,” he says.
I nod and I say, trailing off: “I passed out. I froze up, and you carried me out of there. That’s twice you carried me out of a burning building,” I say, feeling pathetic.
“You’re welcome,” he nods. “Now get some sleep,” Jake orders. “We have a long drive ahead of us.”
Chapter Seven
Jake
I told her that I had connections in North Dakota and it wasn’t entirely true. I know people, but I don’t know any all the way out here who would help us, which is part of why I chose it too. Why would either of us go to this desolate state? Don’t get me wrong, North Dakota can be nice in its own right. The rugged landscapes always gives me the impression of cattle ranchers riding into the sunset in rural Wyoming. But I never actually went there before, so this is going to be as much of a surprise for her as it is for me. Before we get there, though, I’m going to make a pit stop and pick up an emergency bag that’s on the border; call it old habits.
I’ve learned in every area of life, you need a backup plan, and escape route. So, I systematically placed escape kits and storage lockers on each side of Wyoming’s border which is exactly where we are right now.
Pulling the car off at the exit, I head for the hole-in-the-wall-town of Greensboro, optimistically named after this horrid climate. Parking the car in front of Easy Storage, I take one look at Diana, who is curled up in a ball with her head resting against the car window. Hopefully, she sleeps through my absence. All the same, though, I remove the key from the ignition, confirming she can’t take the car. I tuck my jacket tightly around me and walk through the darkness. It’s probably about five in the morning, but I’m grateful that we got here.
At this time, Easy Storage has a habit of discretion, something I admire about them. However, it’s better to be safe than sorry and have minimal witnesses as possible. Typing in the PIN code, I open the metal gate and walk to locker fifty-six. They’re all outdoor lockers, and are similar to storage units, just smaller, and stacked big enough to hold a duffel bag.
I swing open the locker and smile at the duffel bag in front of me; black, heavy-duty, and made for record terrains. I place it over my shoulder, locking the box behind me. She’s still asleep, but I know she’s going to need different clothes later. Closing the car door and turning the ignition, I looked behind me as I backed out.
There’s probably a Walmart a couple of miles from here. We can pay cash and get her a couple of basic items. I can’t remember the last time I went into a shop anywhere as common as a Walmart.
“What are you doing?” she asks, suddenly scaring me. I jerk the wheel.
“I didn’t realize you were awake,” I say, frowning at her.
“Yes,” she says. “Pretending to sleep is a skill of mine,” she says.
“Is that so?” I ask, a little surprised.
“Yes. When you’re asleep, your abusive partner has fewer opportunities to pick fights with you, or at least in my case,” she says, sitting up straight.
“Hmm,” I say, unsure how to respond to that little bit of information.
“What did you grab?” she asks, looking behind me at the duffel bag.
“A survival kit,” I say, getting back onto the highway and heading north.
“What’s in it?”
“Essentials.”
“Seriously?” she asks, looking back at me.
“Fine. You can open it,” I say. “Just be careful.” Giving me a side glance, she reaches behind her and pulls the heavy bag onto her lap.
“Wow, what do you have in this thing?” she asks. “It has to weigh like twenty pounds or more.”
I nod, allowing her to go through its content. Quickly unzipping the bag, her mouth drops open.
“What is this?” she asks, pulling out a box of ammunition.
“That is the reason why it’s so heavy,” I say.
“I see,” she murmurs. “And what about this?” she asks, pulling out two small cases.
“Those would be the second heaviest items in the bags.”
Reaching over and opening the little cases, she looks dumbfounded at the cases displaying two nine millimeters.
“I see,” she murmurs again, closing the case, and setting it down gently as if she were afraid it would fire. Flicking on the overhead light, she looks down.
“How much cash do you have in here, Jake?” she asks, mouth open.
“$100,000,” I say.
“You’re telling me you got $100,000 from a storage locker in rural Wyoming?” she demands.
“I am telling you that. Thank God nobody broke in and stole it. It’s a good thing I have insurance on it,” I say while casually changing lanes to pass a semi. She stares at me with her mouth open.
“Okay. Why do you have $100,000?”
“Because you can get pretty far with $100,000 cash if you’re careful,” I say.
“Have you ever had to before?” she asks.
“I’ve had to lay low plenty of times,” I nod. “Most recently with Charlie, Lucy, and Noah.”
