“I’m not going to hurt you, but you need to be quiet and come with me,” he says in a hushed tone.
My breaths are harsh as I try to do what he asks, but my fear won’t allow me to. He nods and steps to the side then bends to pick my clothes up from the floor and toss them on the bed.
“Get dressed,” he demands, still gripping his gun.
The silver nozzle creates gleaming reflections of light from outside. It taunts me, forcing a ripple of trembles from my core. I fumble with my shirt, barely pulling it all the way on before struggling to put on my pants. I’m standing now, shaking uncontrollably and scared out of my mind. I know I was a little harsh earlier, but nothing that should result to this. I want to scream at him. If anyone should be pissed off, it’s me. So why am I the one being held against my will?
My breathing settles enough for me to finally make out words. “What are you doing?” I plead with my hands raised.
“We need—”
He’s interrupted mid-sentence by a loud bang coming from my living room. Liam quickly glances through the crack of the slightly ajar bedroom door then swiftly shuts it tight.
“Go to the other side of the room and get down.” He grips his steel, aiming it at the door. “Now!” he barks when he sees that I’m frozen where I stand.
Panic sets in, and I stumble over the edge of my bed, rushing to the window, ducking low in the farthest corner of my room. In a matter of seconds, things turn from bad to worse when the door is kicked in and smacks into the nightstand, sending wood shards flying into the air. With precision, he pulls the trigger, and a subtle shock wave sounds off from the silencer attached to his weapon. I hadn’t noticed it at first, I was busy worrying how he got back into my apartment. The bullet meets its mark, dropping a tall bulky figure to the floor. Everything is moving so fast that I don’t see the next shot, I only hear the thud of a second body hitting my hardwood tile.
Liam storms over to me and drags me by the wrist from the corner. Instinct takes over, and I jerk away, only for him to tighten is hold.
“We don’t have time for this, Lotus. We need to get out of here.” His voice is heavy and stern.
I hesitantly calm myself enough to listen to what he’s saying. I don’t know what’s happening, but his tone tells me there’s no room for debate. On the way out into the living area, Liam kneels to grab a pair of sneakers from the rack of shoes near my closet door.
He hands them to me. “Here, put these on.” He doesn’t look at me but instead watches the entrance.
I inadvertently snatch them from him and stuff my feet into the footwear. Stepping over the first intruder, I take in his features. He’s tall and pale-skinned. Blood puddles around him from the hole now left in the middle of his forehead. As I step around the second invader, I notice he’s just as tall but a bit larger than the first, and his dark skin is covered in specks of blood. But only he was shot twice in the chest.
Liam leads us out toward the exit, stopping to retrieve my coat from the hook near the door, and he tosses it to me. While I throw it onto my body, he snags my medical kit from the floor, tucking it under his damaged arm before picking up my purse and keys from the bookshelf resting next to my television on the other side of the door. I snatch up my phone from the couch and follow him out of my building onto the snow-covered streets.
There are a million things running through my mind, overloading my brain with questions and concerns. But I know now is not the time to ask or voice them. He’s been focused and determined to get me out of here since those two guys burst in, that he hasn’t stopped to look at me since. I don’t know why I’m trusting him or why they showed up to my apartment, but I do know that after seeing how he handled them, I don’t want to be here alone.
Liam’s ahead of me, ferociously fumbling around. It’s not until I see the headlights of my car and the loud chirping sound that I realize what he was doing. He stuffs me into the passenger side and rushes to the driver’s seat then shucks both bags into the back. When he’s settled inside, he revs the engine and peels out into the night.
“What just happened?” I ask, only to be ignored.
His face and body language are full of tension, anger, and something I’ve never recognized on him before. Watching as he weaves through the slippery streets of Duluth, I’m unsure if I should be grateful we made it out of there alive or worried over what he’s gotten me into.
Liam speeds down the highway, racing to get us out of Duluth. You’d think whoever’s after him is hot on our asses with how fast he’s going and the way he constantly peers into the rearview mirror. I’ve lost track of the hours we’ve been on the road, but we’ve long since left Minnesota. And during this entire ride, Liam hasn’t said a word to me. A part of me is okay with that, because I’m spinning with nerves. I work in a high-paced, trauma-filled setting every day, but nothing could have prepared me for what happened tonight. I’ve never seen anyone shot before.
Shot… Oh God, those men, they’re dead—in my apartment. The reality of that grabs hold of my sanity, and I start to lose it. My chest tightens, and I struggle to pull air into my lungs. The tremble from earlier returns, and I squeeze my hands into fists. I shut my eyes, working unsuccessfully to will my anxiety away. Tears sting behind my lids, seeping out and trailing my face. I start to hyperventilate, jumping unexpectedly when Liam’s voice calls out.
“Lotus, you okay?” he asks, but I’m unable to answer him. He places his hand on my back, rubbing gentle circles. But he soon retracts it when the car swerves. “Just breathe, babe. We’re safe, and we’re going to stay that way. Try to relax.”
His tone is calm, soothing, and it does help settle my nerves a little. I straighten my posture, opening my chest to allow oxygen to flow down my windpipe. This, coupled with his attempt of comforting me, helps, and I’m finally able to breathe normally again. It’s pitch-black out with the only light coming from the high beams on my car.
“Are you okay?” he asks again.
It takes me a minute to formulate words. “What happened back there? Why were those guys after you? What have you gotten me into?” My voice cracks at the last question, and another anxiety attack stirs. I inhale sharply and am able to get a hold of myself. And even though it passes, my muscles remain rigid with tension.
Watching him, I can see the uncertainty on his face. He doesn’t know what’s going on, or he doesn’t want to tell me. But neither of those reasonings will work for me. Something bad clearly happened leading up to tonight, and I need to know what it is.
“My father-in-law decided I’ve outlived my usefulness and tried to have me killed,” he answers before I can hound him again. “And because I’ve come to you, you’re now in danger, too.”
“You mean you put me in danger,” I bark. I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve already had to start over once. Now there’s people after me with fucking guns and God knows what other weapons. No… I can’t accept that this is happening. “You’re the FBI. Fix this shit and let me go home,” I scream.
“I can’t let you go home, Lotus,” he adds nonchalantly.
“Stop fucking calling me that,” I shout. “You’ve literally torn my world apart, again. Calling me by some age-old pet name isn’t going to work this time.”