Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-Three

LILY

D eafening silence might be a cliché, but it’s born of truth. The absolute quiet weighs heavy in the room. The querulous fire alarm has stopped, and I’m aware of the solid thud of my heart in my ears, each pump of blood an ominous countdown.

My job has always been dangerous, there was always a chance things would end badly. Dragging someone else into it is wrong, but I could no sooner walk away from Tate than, it appears, he could from me.

I wait. My eyes closed, focusing on how much I love Tate. If that’s my last thought on earth, it couldn’t be better. I’m trying to be brave and hold back the tears. I hate feeling this helpless and not being with Tate, even though he’s only in the other room.

The silence drags on, and I open my eyes to see Tate standing in the doorway still clutching the scissors in his hand. My heart sinks, he hasn’t had the courage to cut the wire and I can’t blame him. He’s shown so much courage already, just by being here. That do-or-die moment is terrifying. It’s unfair of me to even ask it of him. Sometimes it’s better to leave it to fate.

Then he gives me a crooked grin. ‘Who knew disabling a bomb was so easy?’ he says.

I almost pass out with the sudden relief.

‘The clock has stopped.’

I’m beyond words. We both are.

He comes to sit beside me, scooping me onto his lap. I ignore the bite of the chain at my wrist. The pain is more than worth it. I lean into him, aware of his solid body. My home.

After a while, each second spent savouring his very being, my head pressed against his chest, listening to the comforting beat of his heart, my body limp with relief and gratitude, my brain starts to process.

‘Tate?’

‘Mmm,’ he says from above me, his chin resting on my head.

Something has been puzzling me. ‘The alarm had only been ringing for a little while before you got here.’

‘And?’

How did he know where to find me? That’s one of a dozen questions I have.

‘You must have set off before it went off.’

‘Mmm.’

I jerk my head out from under his chin and tilt my head up at him.

‘Did you know they were going to evacuate the stadium?’

‘No. Apparently there was some discussion taking place, but everyone was keen for the game to go ahead.’

‘And you left the locker room?’

‘Lily, I had no idea where you were. Of course I left the locker room.’

I stare at him. ‘What about the game?’

‘What about the game?’

‘It’s the freaking Superbowl, Tate.’

He grins at me. ‘I know.’

For some reason, we both find this funny and there are still tears rolling down both our faces, our mutual pent-up hysteria spilling out, when a couple of suited men, who are clearly some sort of federal agents, appear at the door with their weapons drawn.

‘Put your hands up.’

Tate does as he’s told. I have more difficulty, but I hold my chained hands in full view. It would be the ultimate irony if anyone got trigger-happy now.

‘There’s a bomb next door,’ says Tate casually. Both men freeze.

‘A disabled bomb,’ I qualify.

One of the men crosses to the doorway of the other office.

‘She’s right. Fuck that’s one hell of a bomb. We still need to get you folks out of here.’

One of them is on his phone already and I hear the wonderful words, ‘We’re going to need a bolt cutter.’

* * *

Tate doesn’t leave my side, even when the firemen appear with the heavy-duty equipment to free me.

‘Do you know anything about the little dog out there? He’s sitting whining outside a cupboard, but it’s locked?’ asks one of the agents as a fireman snaps the metal links in half.

Tate and I exchange a quick look. ‘Pammie?’ he says and I see fear on his face.

‘Pammie Radstock?’ asks the agent.

Tate and I both nod and I explain that she was here earlier and that I’d taken her place.

The agent leaves the room and a minute later we can clearly hear the sound of breaking wood.

Thankfully, when they break the door down, she’s alive and indignant. I think I really like Pammie. I hope she and Winston can sort themselves out.

In minutes, the room is full of agents and uniforms, policemen and firemen.

I rub my wrists as I’m finally free and Tate loops an arm around me, clamping me to him.

The debrief is brief. Apparently, there’s quite an appetite for a football game and it’s of national importance that it goes ahead as soon as humanly possible. The usual crime-scene protocol is being abandoned, not that Tate or I care.

We’re being escorted down the escalators. ‘Excuse me, officer,’ Tate says with a charming smile. ‘Are we free to go?’

‘Sure. As soon as you’re downstairs and back in the locker room, we’re good to go and reopen the stadium.’

Tate links his fingers with mine. ‘We can see ourselves down from here. You don’t need to stay.’

The policeman frowns with uncertainty.

‘I’ve got a few things to tell my girl before I go play ball, if you don’t mind,’ says Tate, with an all-men-together sort of conspiratorial tone.

‘Oh. Yes. Of course, Mr Donaghue.’ The policeman gives us both a salute and hurries off. Below us, the doors open and people begin filtering back into the building.

Tate pulls me through the nearest door. We’re in one of the executive boxes.

He takes my face in his hands. ‘Someone once told me they could do a lot in nine minutes.’

‘Did they now?’ I ask and kiss him. ‘Lucky for us we’ve got a lifetime.’