Dean dragged Rourke from the car, grunting from the exertion. Rourke wasn’t moving. With adrenaline numbing my pain, I helped roll him over onto his back. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” I cursed. His shirt was soaked with blood. He groaned and put a hand to his stomach. I lifted up his shirt. Blood was pooling from a small hole a few inches from his belly button.
“We’ve got to move,” Asher said and lifted Rourke to his feet. He took most of Rourke’s weight by slinging his arm over his shoulder. Dean took my gun and yanked me up by my arm, making me grunt. His arm snaked around my waist after seeing how unsteady I was on my feet and the four of us ventured deeper into the parking garage.
We moved as fast as we could with me hobbling and Asher dragging Rourke. We were approaching the other side that exited into the street when tires screeched in the distance. Looking back, I saw one of our attacker’s SUVs come into view. We weren’t going to make it on foot. As I searched around frantically, an elevator by the exit caught my eye.
“Elevator,” I pointed. Dean left me to run ahead and I limped on as quickly as I could without falling. He pressed the button to call the elevator about a million times. By the time we caught up to him, the doors opened, and we climbed in. Not really thinking, I pressed the button with the letter B that had a sticker next to it that read, Staff Only. The doors closed on the SUV coming to a screeching halt outside and the elevator made its descent.
The ride was short. Once the doors were open, I pushed the emergency stop button, preventing anyone from calling the elevator. We stepped into a mechanical room. On the far wall hung a bunch of electrical boxes with metal piping coming out of the top, traveling up the wall into the ceiling. On one side of the room there was a desk with a conference phone, walkie talkies, and a keyboard. The wall above it held six CCTVs, surveilling different areas of the parking garage. On the opposite wall was a couple bulletin boards, a mini fridge, a small table with a microwave on it, and a metal door with a tiny window that showed concrete stairs leading up.
Noticing a walkie talkie missing from the charging station, I could only assume the security guard had bolted the moment guns had started firing.
Eyeing the door leading to the stairs, I darted for it and turned the bolt, locking it. It wouldn’t be enough, especially if they started shooting through the window. “We need to block off the door,” I said out loud, looking around.
“We’ll do that. Take care of Rourke,” Asher ordered, laying Rourke on the floor. He was pale from losing too much blood. I looked around again for anything that might help stop his bleeding. A first aid kit hanging on the wall had me hobbling across the room.
Dean and Asher worked quickly, moving the large metal desk in front of the door, and as they were lifting the mini fridge on top of it to block the small window, Dean yelled out, “Incoming!”
“We need to call for help,” I stated, ripping the white plastic first aid kit off the wall.
The door handle jiggled before the sound of loud banging. I could barely hear Asher talking on his cell as I kneeled next to Rourke and started sifting through the kit. I came across a few packets of gauze. Tearing the paper packaging, I stacked the pieces and pressed them firmly over Rourke’s wound. He groaned loudly.
“If it hurts, it means you’re alive,” I said, reassuring him and myself. I released a shuddering breath. Now that I was finally sitting still, my aches and pains were quickly catching up to me. I wanted to throw up from the pounding pressure coming from my head. The side of my yellow shirt was soaked with blood and there was a sharpness intensifying on my side. With one hand, I lifted my shirt. Damnit. I'd been shot just above my hip. I was bleeding, but not as profusely as Rourke. Glancing back at the first aid kit, I saw Band-Aids, disinfectant, and an Ace bandage, all of which couldn’t help me.
“Maura.”
I quickly dropped my shirt. Asher stood behind me, holding out his phone.
I took it and put it to my ear, expecting it to be Stefan. “Hello?”
There was a sigh of relief on the other end. “Maura.” Jamie’s deep voice reached all the way to my soul, soothing it with relief.
Shots went off and bullets embedded in the metal door. Glass sprayed out as the small window shattered. Dean and Asher took cover against the concrete wall. They both released the clips on their guns, going over how much ammo they had left. It was obvious they didn’t think the door was going to hold.
“Maura!” Jamie yelled, pulling my attention back to the phone.
“We can’t hold them off,” I said, voice strangely calm.
“I’m coming, baby.” He tried to sound just as calm, but I could still hear his fear. He wasn’t going to make it in time.
More shots rang out, cementing that realization. I did my best to tune them out as I let my feelings and regrets for the man on the phone come to the surface.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.
“Maura—”
“You asked me what had changed—what was really keeping us apart and the truth is…I was scared.” Tears I hadn't known were forming fell from my eyes. “I’ve loved you since we were kids and I haven’t stopped loving you. It’s only grown deeper. When I saw you with Angela, I realized you held my heart. You have the power to hurt me beyond repair and that scared me. I wish I could go back and yell at myself. Make me face my fear instead of running away from it because that would have meant I could have spent these last few days with you.” I sniffled and closed my blurry eyes. The shooting had stopped, but there was banging and the sound of metal scraping. Dean and Asher were cursing and yelling as they fought to keep the door closed.
“I’m almost—” Jamie’s words were cut off as shots went off from within the room, making me flinch.
Time was up.
“I love you, Jamie.”