He pulled a glove off, and his fingers wove together with mine as his feet hit something solid, then mine followed.
A split second later, chaos erupted around us.
Emergency workers and bright spotlights and a hundred hands unbuckling us and pulling us out of the shaft and asking questions and taking the harnesses off and telling us to hurry, and my hand separated from Ronan’s as a paramedic came between us, firing even more questions.
I absolutely panicked. “Ronan.”
“Hey!” Ronan yelled, shoving the emergency worker away and putting his arm around me. “Did we ask you for help? Step back.”
The guy held his hands up.
“Next person coming down is injured, help him,” Ronan ordered, handing the guy his gloves and harness. Then he turned us toward the front of the hotel, and his gaze locked on something ahead. Leading us through the small crowd of workers in the lobby without giving anyone a single glance, he held me close.
A policeman told us to exit quickly, but otherwise, people moved out of our way. As soon as we stepped outside, I knew what Ronan had been looking at. Standing inside a roped-off area with police tape, André Luna and Adam Trefor came into view, with Tyler and Ty standing beside them. Their gazes were both fixed on us, but standing next to Adam, with a blanket blowing around on his shoulders, stood Leo.
Leo quickly stepped forward with his arms outstretched. “Oh thank God, Sanaa, you’re all right!”
Ronan didn’t even hesitate.
His fist came up and slammed into Leo’s face.
Leo cried out and stumbled back, falling to the ground. Immediately he was pointing at Ronan and yelling at Adam and André as he held his nose. “Did you see that? Do something!”
Both Adam and André ignored him, and Adam stepped away from the Black SUV they were standing in front of to hold the rear door open against the heavy winds.
Ronan glanced at Tyler. “Harm’s coming down with an injured leg, probable concussion.”
Tyler nodded. “Ty and I will take care of him.” He and Ty took off toward the lobby.
Ronan helped me inside the SUV as André got behind the wheel and Adam got in the front passenger seat. Then Ronan got in next to me and shut the door.
A sudden and shocking silence followed as the howling wind and people shouting and a building creaking all muted while André started the engine.
Adam turned in his seat. “Do either of you need medical attention?”
Ronan tipped his chin at Adam, then glanced at the back of André’s head. “Call Talerco. I’d like her checked out.”
“I’m fine,” I insisted.
Ronan wrapped an arm around me and spoke low. “Precautionary.”
André made a call using the SUV’s Bluetooth.
Two rings, and a Southern-accented man answered. “What up, Patrol? Miss me?”
“Headquarters, unit one upstairs, bring your kit,” André clipped in rapid succession.
The man on the other end of the line turned serious. “Copy that. Anythin’ life threatenin’ I need to know about?”
“Negative,” André answered.
“On my way,” the man replied. “See you in twenty.”
André hung up.
Adam focused his austere gaze on me. “We’ll need to be wheels up in seven hours if you’re going to make your concert. The weather will have dissipated enough to take off by then, but it’ll be a longer flight.”
Before I could answer, Ronan practically growled at him. “We were meters from impact, she inhaled a shit ton of construction debris, and she’s not getting on a goddamn plane until she’s medically cleared.”
I put my hand on Ronan’s arm. “I’m okay.”
In truth, I didn’t know what I was. I was alive. Ronan was alive. Kyle was dead. And Ronan had said we had a lot to talk about. That’s all I knew.
I was ashamed to admit the concert wasn’t something I wanted to think about it. I probably had an excuse to cancel it, but the ramifications would be vast. It would cost me millions, probably generate a lawsuit from Trinity and prolong my connection to them for years as lawyers billed astronomical hourly fees.
I also didn’t want to go back to London.
And I really didn’t want to go back to that life.
Despite the week’s horrible outcome, the past few days, not having a constant entourage of industry people around me, it was… eye opening. And unsettling how much I’d forgotten about what was important in life.
Now, more than ever, I wanted out.
I wasn’t going to say I would never sing again. Maybe I would record more music, but I was done touring. I didn’t want to be in the spotlight anymore.
Adam simply nodded at Ronan and turned in his seat.
André glanced in the rearview mirror at Ronan. “Your texts came through. Police will need statements. All hotel staff and guests accounted for, no fatalities.”
I exhaled in relief.
Ronan’s arm tightened around me. “Copy.”
“Abernathy?” André asked.
Ronan didn’t hesitate. He told them everything. “After the second explosion, he made it to the top floor, detained Sanaa while I was helping Harm, and had a detonation device for third bomb planted on the top floor in the stairwell. I couldn’t reach it. Harm could, but not to disable it. We assumed the building had been evac’ed by that point, so Harm was able to get the device dislodged and away from us. I shot Abernathy. His body and the detonation device are in the suite with the jammed door.”
André nodded. “I’ll deal with the authorities while you two decompress at base. The hotel’s corporate headquarters have so far kept the fact that there was a bomber on site out of the media. They’re already spinning it as an HVAC issue aggravated by the storm. Trefor and I have been asked to keep everything under wraps and inform any of our team to do the same. Consider yourself informed. My guess is they’ll have NDAs delivered by lawyers within the hour.”
“We’re not dealing with any of that tonight.” Ronan’s hand absently rubbed my arm as he looked out the window.
“Copy,” André replied. “I’ll handle it.”
I was so thankful no one else had been hurt in the explosions, but something had shifted in Ronan’s demeanor since we’d left the elevator shaft, and I didn’t know what it was. All I knew was that there was a palpable tension in the car, no one mentioned Leo and we were going to base, wherever that was.
Seven fucking hours.
It wasn’t enough time.
She needed to get checked out, decompress, and get some sleep.
I needed to get my head on straight.
If she wanted her life back, I didn’t know what the fuck I would do. I knew myself. Watching from the sidelines as she sang her heart out to tens of thousands of people every night would kill me. It’d kill me more if she wanted to go on tour by herself. But I wouldn’t ask her to quit, not after the name she’d made for herself.
I’d heard what she’d said to Amherst and what she’d told me, but I didn’t trust it. She may feel that conviction now, but in a month? A year? Singing was all she knew, like the Marines had been all I knew. I hadn’t wanted out, but I hadn’t wanted a desk job either.