CHAPTER FOUR
Hunt coughed against the dust filling his lungs as the roar faded.
The debris around him had shifted. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but his little air pocket was now smaller than before. Cement and rock pushed against him from every side, but at least it hadn’t completely collapsed on top of him.
“Kels”—he coughed again—“Kelsey, answer me.”
Silence met his ears, sending his pulse right back into overdrive.
He blinked and tried to rub the grime from his eyes. There was so much dirt and debris he was sure he’d never be clean again. “Kelsey? Talk to me. Tell me you’re okay.”
Every second that passed with no sound from her caused his chest to cinch tighter until it felt three sizes too small for his lungs. “Kelsey, dammit. Answer me.”
Still no response.
He pressed his palm against the cement near his head that separated his space from hers and used every ounce of strength he had to try to shove it aside, but it wouldn’t budge. Muscles burning, he finally dropped his arm and breathed deep, filling his lungs with the foul dust that only made him want to cough again.
There were plenty of times he’d felt powerless in his life—when his mom had been killed, when his dad had refused to get help for his depression, during his time in the military when he’d arrived too late to save a civilian or even a fellow soldier from a roadside bomb. But this—being stuck here in this rubble, able to hear everything that happened around him but unable to move a single muscle to help—was the absolute worst.
He closed his eyes. “Come on, Kelsey, say something, baby. I need to know you’re still there. Say anything. Kels?”
An eerie silence echoed around him. One he didn’t like. One that made his mind spin with images of Kelsey being crushed in the debris only inches away from him.
No. She wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be dead. Defiance and anger welled inside him. He shoved hard against the cement inches in front of his face again, determined to get to her. “I know you’re there, Kelsey. Say something, dammit.”
His muscles burned. Perspiration slicked his skin. He grunted as his lungs seized, not just from exertion but also from a misery he wasn’t going to survive.
Another rumble sounded, but he didn’t stop pushing against the stones. Debris moved around him. Dust filled the small space, causing him to cough all over again. But faintly, over the sound of his hacking, over the blood roaring in his ears, he thought heard a voice.
He slowed his struggle, sucked in a breath, and stilled. “Kelsey?”
“There!” the muffled voice called. “I knew I heard someone there. Hurry.”
Rocks and concrete shifted above him, and more dust rose in the air, forcing him to cough even harder. And then a blinding light broke through the darkness.
Hunt slammed his eyes shut. More rocks shifted. The voice grew louder, followed by another. And another. Blinking rapidly, he held up a hand to block the growing light as he tried like hell not to suck in too much dust. One by one, chunks of concrete were moved out of the way. Fresh air rushed all around him. And then hands were on his arms, pulling him free.
The cement near his legs shifted. The pressure holding him down released, allowing him to move the lower half of his body for the first time in hours. Fingers closed around his wrists. Pins and needles stabbed into his legs and feet as he was hauled up, and his weight almost went out from under him, but two rescue workers were there, tugging his arms over their shoulders so they could help him stand.
He blinked against the bright lights as he tried to see clearly. His eyes weren’t working right yet. All he could make out were shapes and shadows and a flurry of activity as he was helped over the broken cement and mangled steel. Sound registered. Voices shouting orders, the hum of machinery being used to sift through the debris, sirens, even the whir of helicopter blades above. But the one sound he couldn’t hear was Kelsey’s voice. The one thing he couldn’t see was her.
“No.” He shifted his weight to his feet, ignoring the pain in his legs as he pushed back against the two men helping him. “I can’t. She’s still stuck down there. I have to go back.”
“You’re in no condition to help,” the man on his left said.
“I can’t leave her.” Hunt pulled his arms from their shoulders and let his legs take the full brunt of his weight.
And nearly gasped because holy hell, his legs hurt like a motherfucker. But one step was all it took to realize there was no permanent damage. He was scraped, bruised, and probably bleeding in a few places, but he could walk.
He turned back toward the rubble and faltered when his eyes focused and he saw the damage for the first time. “Holy shit.”
The bottom two floors of the building were completely blown out on one side, and it wasn’t the side closest to where city workers had been tampering with that gas line. Piles of concrete and twisted metal covered the ground, along with papers, shattered glass, demolished furniture, and crumpled tiles.
He’d seen enough blown-out buildings overseas to know what a bomb could do. And his heart beat hard and fast, knowing this hadn’t been an accidental gas-line rupture as he’d hoped.
“Here!” a first responder standing in the rubble yelled, not far from where Hunt had been pulled free. “We found another one!”
Hunt’s heart shot into his throat, and even though his legs felt as if they might go out from under him at any second, he hobbled back toward the destruction, trying to see around paramedics and firemen and rescue workers, searching for any sign of Kelsey.
Someone stepped in his way. He spotted a hand being lifted from the rubble. His pulse went stratospheric as he tried to move around people blocking his path. Another arm appeared from the debris, white with dust.
Someone stepped in his path, blocking his view again. Hands landed on his upper arms. “Sir, you can’t help here. You need to get checked out by the EMTs. We can handle this.”
“I need to see if it’s her.” He struggled against the first responder’s hold, ducking his head so he could see around the man.
Please let it be her, please let it be her, please, please, please . . .
A dusty arm rose from the destruction, then a slim body, coated in dust. He couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman. Couldn’t tell if they were alive or not moving. Couldn’t see where the rescue workers were taking them.
More bodies stepped in his way, pushing him back. Frustrated because his muscles weren’t working right, because he couldn’t get past this firefighter he could normally drop with barely any effort, he yelled, “Kelsey!”
“Hunter?”
Kelsey’s voice was weak, but it was real. And it gave him the strength he’d been missing. He broke free of the firefighter holding him back and spotted two rescue workers heading toward him, helping her over the rubble.
She was covered in fine white dust, her face and arms and every inch of her body filthy and scraped and bruised, and she was squinting and blinking to see through the bright light. But she was whole. She was breathing. She was alive.
“Kels . . .” His relief was all-consuming. He met her at the edge of the rubble, captured her around the waist, and pulled her from the rescue workers until her body was flush against his. And then he lowered his mouth and kissed her.
Her hands landed on his shoulders. She sucked in a surprised breath. But before he could make himself stop, she groaned, tangled her fingers in his shirt, and opened to him, kissing him back with the same desperation he was kissing her.
His brain short-circuited. The only thing that mattered was her. Safe. Alive. In his arms, right here and now. He fisted her ripped blouse, drawing her even tighter against him, and kissed her deeper. Needing to taste every part of her if for no other reason than to prove to himself she was real.
Someone nearby chuckled.
A voice muttered, “I think these two are okay.”
Farther away, someone else hollered, “I found another one!” Then footsteps sounded on concrete before fading until he didn’t hear anything but his roaring pulse echoing in his ears.
Breathless, he finally drew back from her mouth, just a fraction of an inch. But he didn’t loosen his hold, wasn’t ready to release even an ounce of her heat that felt so damn good plastered against him.
“I thought . . .” Words lodged in his throat, and a rush of emotions he wasn’t ready for wrapped like tentacles around his chest. “When that last rumble sounded, and you didn’t answer me, I thought I’d lost you.”
She trembled and pressed her forehead against his. “I . . . I couldn’t hear you. I called and called. I was so scared something had happened to you.”
He lifted his hands to her face, drawing back just far enough so he could see her eyes. His fingers grazed a scrape on her cheek. He brushed a lock of hair back from her temples, so dusty it looked white instead of blonde. A nasty bruise was forming along her jawline, but he was relieved to see her eyes were clear. Clear and as brown as the blessed earth beneath his feet. Clear and so damn fathomless, staring up at him with truth and compassion swimming in their depths, his heart turned over beneath his ribs.
“I thought I was never going to see you again,” she whispered.
He knew people were watching. He knew he needed to let her go so the EMTs could make sure she was all right. He knew the way he’d kissed her moments ago had been rooted in relief and was nothing but a life-affirming reaction. He also knew he had no right or reason to kiss her again. Not when that life-affirming moment had passed. But he wanted to kiss her again. His gaze dropped to her lips, and a hunger so sharp it was all he could focus on took control of his body.
He lowered his mouth to hers once more. Only this time he didn’t kiss her with relief or to reassure himself she was alive. He kissed her the way he’d wanted to kiss her for five damn years. With every bit of passion he hadn’t realized he’d stored up inside for her.
She opened the minute their lips met. Groaned into his mouth. Dug her fingertips into his shoulders as she held on and lifted herself in his arms so she could press her body even closer to his. And then she kissed him back as if she never wanted to stop.
A little voice in the back of his head told him this was wrong. But it felt too damn good to stop. His hand slid from her cheek into her hair. The other wrapped around her lower spine, moving her against him. Vaguely, he heard footsteps and voices coming closer, but they didn’t deter him. Didn’t stop him either. Cupping the back of her head, he angled her mouth so he could kiss her even deeper. And when she answered with a tiny gasp and stroked his tongue harder, all he could do was wonder why the hell it had taken him so long to kiss her in the first place.
“You son of a fucking bitch!” a man yelled.
Kelsey lurched back from Hunt’s mouth and stumbled out of his arms. Blinking, Hunt reached for her, his mind hazy, his senses in a fog as to why she’d pulled away. Then he registered her shriek. Heard a thud as she hit the ground at his feet. But he didn’t have time to brace himself before a fist slammed into his jaw.
Kelsey’s eyes flew wide as she looked up to see Julian drawing his arm back to hit Hunt again.
“She’s my wife, asshole. Keep your fucking hands off her!”
“Julian! No!” She scrambled to her feet and grappled for Julian’s arm, but he was already throwing it forward, straight toward Hunt’s face.
She stumbled in the dirt. Looked up to see Hunt’s eyes widen. But instead of the sickening sound of Julian’s fist hitting bone, all she heard was the whoosh of air as Hunt ducked beneath the swing.
She scrambled back even farther, her heart in her throat. Julian whipped around and arced out with his fist again, but he was too slow. Hunt’s fist plowed into Julian’s gut before Julian even got his arm all the way around.
Julian grunted and doubled over. “Fucking asshole. I’ll kill you.”
Hunt lifted both hands in front of his face like a prizefighter. “Try it and you’ll regret it.”
Julian looked up at Hunt, but he didn’t make another move to go after him. Instead, he threw a vicious look Kelsey’s way. And the second her eyes met his, fear shot straight into her throat because she knew that look. The one that told her he was past any kind of sanity and engulfed in a rage that this time wouldn’t be mollified.
Her legs shook as she stepped back and lifted her hands in front of her. “Julian, don’t.”
“You.” Baring his teeth in a growl, he lurched toward her. “You unfaithful, no-good whore.”
Kelsey shrieked and stumbled. Lifting her hands in front of her face, she ducked and closed her eyes, her body tense in anticipation of his fist. But the blow never came. A grunt echoed, followed by a thud. And when she pried her eyes open, she found Julian splayed on the ground at her feet.
“You’re done threatening people.” Hunt grasped the back of Julian’s jacket and jerked him to his feet. “And you’re done using her as a punching bag.”
Julian scrambled to find his footing, tried to pull free of Hunt’s hold on his shirtfront, and lifted his fists. But before he could even utter a protest or pull his arm back, Hunt’s fist smashed straight into his nose.
Bones cracked. Blood spurted. And when Hunt let go of Julian’s shirt, the man crumpled to the ground like the broken cement all around them.
Kelsey gasped, unable to look away from the man who’d made her life a living hell for the past three years, writhing on the ground as he clutched his bloody nose. She should be happy. She should be ecstatic someone had just done to him what he’d threatened to do to her too many times to count, but she wasn’t. She was suddenly shaking and didn’t know why.
Footsteps sounded close. Hunt’s footsteps. She sensed others were rushing toward them, probably to intervene, and she knew she was safe. But instinct pushed her back another step.
“Kelsey,” Hunt said firmly. “Stop.”
The harsh command stilled her feet, but it didn’t slow her racing pulse or her rapid-fire breaths lifting her chest as if she’d just run a marathon.
“Are you hurt?” Hunt moved in front of her, gripped her at the jaw with warm fingers, and tipped her face up toward his. “Look at me. Did he hurt you?”
She blinked and shook her head, unable to meet his gaze. She knew Hunt was only trying to help her, but she couldn’t look at him right now. She wasn’t afraid of him. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her, and she knew he’d never blame her for what had just happened. She wasn’t even upset that Julian was currently moaning on the ground feet away from them—he deserved that and more after everything he’d done, especially if he’d had anything to do with the building collapse here today. But she still couldn’t make herself look at Hunt right now, because she was afraid if she saw even a fraction of the rage she’d seen seconds ago in Julian’s eyes, it would forever tarnish her impression of Hunt and what he stood for.
Her eyes slammed shut. A tremor she couldn’t stop racked her body. Wrapping her arms around herself, she repeated her mantra: Keep it together. Stay strong. You can get through this. Only it didn’t help. The shakes intensified, making her painfully aware she was teetering on the edge of a hysteria she might not be able to hold back.
“Shit,” she muttered, stepping back again. “Shit.” She’d just survived a collapsed building, for crying out loud. Why was she losing it now?
“Just breathe, Kels.” Strong arms closed around her like steel bands. And then all she felt was heat. Against her cheek, around her waist, sliding down her spine. The scents of citrus and leather hit her, scents that were familiar and comforting. But it was the rhythmic thump in her ear grabbed her attention. The steady beat that slowed her pulse. That gave her something solid to focus on. That drew her back from the edge of madness.
“You’re okay,” Hunt said softly as he held her. “Everything’s okay.”
Slowly, she became aware of sounds around her. Of Julian screaming that he’d been assaulted. That Hunt needed to be thrown in jail. That he needed a doctor before he bled out. Then she heard another voice, closer but muffled and clipped, sounding official, asking all kinds of questions about her and Julian and what had just happened.
“No, she’s fine,” Hunt said above her in a calm voice, talking to someone she couldn’t see. “Who let him in here?”
“Officers at the barricade said he went nuts when he saw his wife. He pushed past them before they could stop him.”
“They’re not married anymore. They’ve been separated for eight months, and their divorce went through this morning. He’s been harassing her for the last year. Just before the bomb went off, he sent her a text, threatening to kill her.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“I saw her face when she read it. That was seconds before the bomb blew. The timing can’t be a coincidence.”
“Does she have the phone?”
“No, she lost it in the explosion.”
“Miss?” the man asked gently. “My name’s Officer Callahan. Are you feeling up to answering a few questions? I guarantee Mr. Benedict won’t be able to hear or touch you.”
All Kelsey wanted to do was go on letting Hunt hold her, but that time was up. Steeling herself for what she’d see on his face, she untangled her arms from her waist and pressed her hands against Hunt’s stomach. For a second his arms tightened, and she was sure he wasn’t going to let her go. Then he released her. But he didn’t step back as she expected, and even though she knew it made her weak, especially after she’d very nearly had a nervous breakdown right in front of him, she was glad. Even more relieved when he reached for her hand, wrapped his strong, solid fingers around hers, and squeezed.
“Brett’s an old friend, Kels. He knows better than to throw bullshit at me.”
Officer Callahan chuckled. And for whatever reason, the sound eased more of the tension inside her.
She chanced a look up at Hunt’s face. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes were calm, not the least bit enraged as Julian’s had been. The last of the panic she’d felt before unwound inside her.
“I-I’m sorry. I’m not usually such a wreck.” Brushing the filthy hair back from her face, Kelsey looked to Officer Callahan. He was shorter than Hunt by several inches, with a receding hairline and a nose that looked as if it had been broken more than once. But his hazel eyes were kind, and the way he smiled and hooked his thumbs in his belt in a nonthreatening way relaxed her even more.
“No judgment from me,” he answered. “You’ve been through hell today.”
She had been. But she still didn’t like the way she’d very nearly crumbled a few minutes ago. Or that she’d almost done it in front of Hunt.
Glancing past Callahan, Kelsey spotted several officers surrounding Julian at the back of an ambulance. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but their aggressive stances needed no explanation.
“Hunt was just telling me about the text you received.” Callahan pulled a small pad of paper and a pencil from his breast pocket, drawing her attention his way. “Can you describe the cell phone for me?”
“It’s an iPhone. Silver. In a clear case with pink flowers.”
“When was the last time you remember having it?”
A scream echoed from the direction of the ambulances. Kelsey’s gaze shot in that direction to where Julian was now bent over the back of the ambulance with his cheek pressed against the floor of the vehicle while two officers wrestled his hands behind his back and snapped cuffs over his wrists.
“Um . . . I . . . the production assistant took it from me just before I was supposed to go on air.”
“Sir?” A female EMT with brown hair tied in a neat ponytail reached for Hunt’s arm with gloved hands. “Your leg is bleeding. We need to take a look at that.”
Kelsey’s gaze dropped, and for the first time she noticed Hunt’s left pant leg was shredded from hip to ankle and that his thigh was red and oozing beneath the torn fabric. “Oh my God.” Sickness swirled in her stomach. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing.” Hunt brushed the EMT’s hand away, tightening his hold on Kelsey’s hand when she tried to release him. “I’m fine.”
He wasn’t fine. She stared at the wound, remembering how he’d said his legs had been pinned in the rubble. Her gaze lifted to his face, but she could tell with one look he wasn’t feeling any pain. His focused eyes were locked on her as if she were the one who was injured. As if making sure she was okay was all that mattered.
Emotions slammed into her from every side. Emotions that stole her breath and drew her right back to that moment in the destruction when he’d told her she mattered. That he cared. That there was no one else he’d rather be with. Followed by the overwhelming way he’d kissed her when she’d been pulled from the rubble. Not once, but twice.
He’d meant those words. Meant every single one. Her lips tingled as the memory of those kisses flooded her mind. And in the aftermath, her skin warmed and her heart sped up until the only thing she wanted was for him to kiss her again.
“She’s fine, O’Donnell.” Officer Callahan glared at Hunt. “Go get your leg patched up before it falls off.”
Hunt shot a frown Callahan’s way, then looked back at Kelsey. “I can stay.”
Words lodged in her throat. She couldn’t seem to make her tongue work. And this inability to speak had nothing to do with fear or a breakdown or anything to do with Julian. It had to do with the man in front of her. With the way he’d protected her. With the way he was still protecting her. And all the ways she wanted to thank him for being exactly what she needed.
The best she could do was shake her head.
His brow wrinkled, as if he were unsure, and knowing he wouldn’t leave her when he was worried, she said, “I’m fine, Hunter. Go.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Very. I’m fine.”
His features relaxed. Releasing her hand, he pointed toward the line of ambulances. “I’ll be right over there if you need me.”
“Holy hell,” Callahan breathed. “Get out of here already, O’Donnell.”
Hunt glared Callahan’s way once more, then looked down at the EMT. “Okay, lead the way.
The EMT placed a gloved hand around his arm, helping him as he hobbled toward the ambulance. And as Kelsey watched, she hated that she’d been so wrapped up in herself and what had happened with Julian that she hadn’t noticed he was injured. At the same time, though, something inside her warmed with the knowledge that he’d been so wrapped up in her he hadn’t even noticed himself.
“Stubborn jackass,” Callahan muttered at her side. “You must have the magic touch.”
Kelsey blinked and looked toward the officer. “I do?”
“You must. He never listens to me. Never listens to anyone, as a matter of fact.”
As Callahan jotted something in his notebook, Kelsey watched as Hunt carefully climbed up on the open tailgate of an ambulance and extended his leg for the EMT to inspect. He was strength and resilience and family, she realized. Not in a way that made her feel confined, as her brothers and parents often did, but one that made her feel safe, protected, cherished. And for reasons she didn’t quite understand, she suddenly wanted to have the magic touch for him. Wanted to be the magic for him that he’d just been for her. Couldn’t keep from wondering what that would be like.
“We should probably get you checked out too,” Callahan said, flipping his notebook closed.
Kelsey blinked, still unable to look away from Hunt. “I’m fine. I’m not hurt.”
“Humor me, will ya? I’m sure you are fine, but I’ll feel better when I know for sure. Plus, I want you to tell me about Benedict before the FBI gets wind of you. Hunt said you’ve had problems with the man in the past. If he had something to do with this bombing, trust me, Portland PD wants a piece of him before the Feds get involved. And if you’re at the center of all this, I want to know every damn thing about you and Benedict before the Feds come looking for you.”