The second unanswered text sounded more desperate, telling her to stay in the parking lot. Eventually, he was downright begging her to respond and let him know she was okay. Okay, this was so not good.
The day had been a train wreck so far and she forgot that she’d turned off her phone notifications. It was a habit she’d picked up. She’d done it without thinking. During her second year as an adjunct professor, Kinsley had been burned by answering the phone right before walking into class.
What she’d expected to be a call about plans for later turned into her boyfriend of a year breaking up with her. Mike Anderson, the man she’d naively believed was going to propose to her had decided the two of them had no future.
She’d barely made it through her lecture and, from that day on, turned off notifications on her phone so she’d never take another call right before a lecture.
In retrospect, thank the stars she and Mike had gone separate ways. At the time, she hadn’t held the same sentiment.
Up close to Blake, she could see stress cracks on his face.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked as he rushed those last couple of steps to reach her. He grabbed her elbow to nudge her toward the side of the building with so much force her arm jerked forward.
“Blake? You better start talking to me,” she insisted.
“We shouldn’t be here.”
Chapter 3
The idea to launch her book talk at the 9-11 Tribute room of the Presidential Library had been Blake’s baby. Blake was losing it. With him standing so close she could feel his hands trembling. He’d left behind a career working for a big PR and Advertising firm in order to strike out on his own and her friend from college was making her launch his first big splash as an independent.
“What are you talking about?” She was starting to get really worried.
He lowered his chin to his chest and leaned in closer to her. He seemed frightened, like if anyone heard what he was about to say the place might blow up.
“Blake, you’re scaring me.” She stumbled and nearly tripped over her own feet in her expensive shoes. She wasn’t used to walking in those let alone being rushed, actually it felt more like she was being herded.
“They know you’re here. There’s someone out there…” Blake mumbled something she could hear or maybe it was unintelligible. His erratic behavior and wild eyes gave her the impression he was on something. It wasn’t like Blake to take medication.
For a split-second she wondered about his mental health. She leaned in to check for the smell of alcohol even though she knew better. Blake was a friend. And he was far too professional to drink on the job.
“Who are they?” Before Kinsley could ask what they had figured out she heard an unfamiliar sound. A pshshshsh noise and then a crack in the air.
One of Blake’s legs gave, and he immediately dipped down. Kinsley grabbed his arm and held him upright. She saw blood splatter on the white concrete block in front of them.
The facts registered. Blake had been shot. The two of them were still vulnerable. Her pulse skyrocketed as her fight, flight or freeze instinct kicked in. Hers came in the form of flight as the horror of what was happening slammed into her like a rogue wave on a sunny beach.
Someone screamed. Another person practically elbowed his way past them jabbing her ribs on the left side. Kinsley sprinted toward the glass doors. Her fingers dug into Blake’s flesh as she pulled him along with her. There was no way she was leaving him behind.
She’d been trained to deal with a campus shooter in the event here was one. Why couldn’t she think of one thing to do now?
“I’m shot,” he said, and his voice sounded hollow.
She’d been given a training video on how to deal with an active shooter in the classroom when she signed onto teach full time. The shots came from somewhere behind them. Being outside made them both vulnerable. She had to get her and Blake inside the building.
In the reflection of the glass doors, she saw a pair of men wearing ski masks coming up behind the two of them.
“We can’t stay here, Blake.” She pulled on the door handles fruitlessly. “Come on.”
“You have to go,” he said. “I’ll try to distract them.”
“Absolutely not,” she argued.
“They want you not me. You can’t stick around.” There was no way she was leaving him.
“I’m not going without you.” And then it dawned on her that he might be better off without her.
A siren pierced the air as she reached the double doors. She gripped the handle and pulled. A click sounded. The door barely moved. Locked? No, this couldn’t be happening. She tried again and again with the same result. The building must have a lockdown feature because a crowbar couldn’t pry those doors open.
A couple ran up beside Kinsley, panic etched in their faces. They gripped the bar, too. What was it about emergencies that caused people to try things multiple times even though it was obvious doing the same thing over and over again wasn’t going to work?
“Help him.” She motioned toward Blake. “Please.”
The female, she looked to be barely nineteen, mouthed an, “I’m sorry,” before her partner pulled her in the opposite direction. The two of them took off running at a full sprint.
There was nowhere for Kinsley to go because the pair of men wearing ski masks were directly behind her now and it was clear their intent was on her.
Slate eyes bore holes into the back of her head. She had no weapons except her book and her handbag. She spun around ready to fight. Blake braced himself by leaning against the window
