Page 59 of Second Go-Round

A shiver shot through me like a bullet, followed by a rush of adrenaline at the sight of the vest beneath the guy’s sweatshirt.

“Shit!” I grabbed Christine’s hand and yanked her from her seat, spinning for the hallway on our right. There wasn’t an exit, but any space I could put between us and that guy…

A flash lit my periphery as I pulled Christine alongside me, and a whoosh of air blew me off my feet and farther into the hallway. Screams and a blast echoed in my ears as darkness descended, forcing me to the ground.

Chapter 25

Jarod

My heartbeat thudded in my ears as I blinked. Dust stung my eyes, and I coughed. “Christine?” I squeezed my hand to find her fingers still wrapped in mine. “Christine!”

I jolted upright but smashed my head. A wall of solid something hovered directly overhead—and to my right, I noted while reaching out in the pitch black.

“Fuck!” Shifting to my knees and keeping my head low, I moved closer to Christine. My free hand scrambled along her arm, up to her face. Wetness coated her cheek.

“Oh, fuck! Fuck!” I scooted in closer, blinking and trying to see her through the dense darkness surrounding us. Adrenaline shot through me. “Christine!”

She moaned.

“Oh, thank Christ! Are you okay?” I swallowed hard, my blood rushing through my system.

Another moan, this one louder, sounded from her, and she squeezed my hand.

“I’m right here.”

Training kicking in, I pressed against her side, slowly taking stock of what had happened while pressing two fingers against her neck. “You’ve got a good pulse. You’re okay.”

The guy had a bomb strapped to his fucking chest.

We were buried in rubble.

My chest went tight, my breathing going shallow regardless of my adrenaline gland pumping overtime.

Chill the fuck out, Zimmerman. You’re alive. Make sure Christine is okay.

“Can you move?” I whispered, running my hand down over her body as far as I could reach, my entire body shaky as fuck. I encountered wetness on her thigh—and a massive piece of rubble resting on her left leg.

Shit, shit, shit!

I’d attempt to save her, and she ended up injured while I…a few aches made themselves known, but I was too amped up to feel the full effects of having been blasted from behind.

“I—I don’t—” She coughed. “I think my nose got fucked up.”

“Shh.” Teeth clenched, I returned my hand up her body, gently running my fingertips over her face, desperately trying to slow my pounding heart. She definitely had a broken nose. I moved my touch around the other side of her face and up into her hair. A massive bump swelled above her temple, covered in wetness.

Head wounds always bled like a motherfucker, but that was a lot…

Cursing, I struggled to yank my sweatshirt off in the tight space we were trapped in, realizing in the movement that I had definitely fucked up my shoulder. Probably landed on it. I also had a broken index finger, I realized, as even more pain receptors came online in my brain.

I managed to untangle myself and turned my sweatshirt inside out. She didn’t make a sound as I pressed the hopefully clean area of the material against the side of her head.

“What happened?” she murmured.

“Bomb.”

“Are we dead?” she asked in a deadpan voice as though she didn’t care one way or the other.

“No.” I tried to peer through the darkness for any hint of light but couldn’t see a goddamned thing. The adrenaline began to wear off, bumps and bruises making themselves known in sharper focus.

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