Hi?Ugh.
I screamed inside my head.
I’m standing in front of an Olympic boxer that moonlights as a model for the cover of romance books, and that’s all I could think to say?
My cheeks burned so hot I could have used them to start a campfire, and I was ready to disappear back inside the van and never come out again. However, the man who’d caught me just laughed softly under his breath.
“Hi. You okay?”
“Oh, yeah.” I hurried to climb to my feet, dusting myself off to chase away the lingering sensation of his arms around me. “I’m fine. Just tired after the long trip.”
“Then you should all get inside,” he said as he herded me toward the rest of the group. “We’ve got everything set up. Let’s get everyone settled in, and then we can do introductions.”
I still didn’t know the man’s name, and now, I was too embarrassed to ask. I knew there were several detectives and private investigators working on the case. Maybe he was one of Logan’s partners. He certainly looked like someone who could take down criminals.
When the man said we needed to get inside, I assumed he meant inside the house. To my surprise, however, he led us to a strange staircase behind a hidden door. The narrow steps stretching down into the ground were an intimidating sight that set off every self-preservation instinct I’d built over the years. I had half a mind to run away and call off the whole thing, andbased on the expressions of the people around me, I wasn’t the only one.
I jumped when a light hand landed on the small of my back. The unnamed man urged me forward, gentle yet insistent, and I automatically followed his silent instructions. I was halfway down the staircase before I realized what I’d done, but by then everyone else had followed and there was no way to run back up the staircase.
Whatever I’d gotten myself into, I was committed to it now.
The safe house at the bottom of the staircase was nothing like what I expected. I’d honestly pictured some place similar to the locked-down facility where the bell ringers had kept me for years. A place that was impregnable both inside and out and built for security rather than easy living. I hadn’t been looking forward to living in such a place again, not after the taste of comfort and freedom I’d experienced living at the recovery center.
What I got instead, was an underground paradise. A field of fake grass and an artificial sky created the illusion we were still outside, and a row of little cottages looked like they had been plucked right out of a storybook. There was even a large, lagoon-style pool with a waterfall. The whole place screamed luxury more than safety, though I didn’t doubt that it was also a fortress in its own right.
“What is this?” one of the other witnesses said as they stepped forward, gapping at the fake sky above. We’d barely had time to introduce ourselves before we were piled into the van and whisked off to the safe house. All I knew was that the witness’s name was Thomas and that he was also one of the surviving victims of the bell ringers.
Despite our similar history, I’d never met Thomas before today. Based on his looks, they weren’t one of the bell ringers “Angels”. That illustrious title was reserved for people whoresembled Clay and me. Blond hair and blue eyes had been what the bell ringers started with, hence their name, but they’d eventually branched out to cater to all tastes. So, Thomas, with his darker complexion, had probably been kept at a different facility.
I wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.
Would I have been relieved to meet familiar faces?
Meeting Clay again after several years had already been stressful enough, and I still wasn’t sure what to think about him. I probably wouldn’t have been able to handle any more mixed emotions.
The unnamed, dark-eyed man led us into the safe house, explaining about how it was an old Cold War bunker that had recently been renovated. There was a little house for each of us, and we were free to choose whichever one we wanted. Most people chose a house closer to the door, but the last house in the line caught my eye. All the structures were identical, but this one had the best view of the pool’s waterfall, which seemed very peaceful.
I didn’t have much to drop off, just some clothes and a few books and mementoes that I’d brought with me. We’d been given a couple hours to settle in, but I was too restless to stay in one place, so I left the house to explore the pool instead.
It was a leisure pool, not one meant for exercise, so it never got above four feet deep at the most. I didn’t have a swimsuit, so I merely sat on the edge, rolled up my pant legs, and dipped my feet in the water. The temperature was perfect, cool but not cold, and the waterfall created a series of constant ripples on the surface that lapped at my skin.
From this position, I could clearly see the rest of the bunker. Off in the distance, near the door leading above ground, the unnamed man who’d caught me earlier, whose name turned out to be Kitt, was in a deep discussion with Logan and two othermen I assumed were also detectives. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was clearly a heated discussion based on their movements. No one looked upset. Their expressions showed no sign of anger, but something serious was being discussed, nonetheless.
I watched them, idly kicking my feet through the water, as I reevaluated my assumptions about Kitt. At first, I’d assumed he was one of the detectives working on the case. However, I knew for a fact that Logan was the detective leading the case, and the two of them didn’t seem to be cut from the same cloth.
Curious, I studied the group of men for a moment, trying to figure out what had caught my attention.
It was their suits, I eventually realized. All the other men, who I was certain must be detectives or law enforcement of some sort, wore suits that were tailored a little looser in the waist to account for their concealed weapons. Kitt’s suit, however, fit him like a glove, showing off the sharp line of his waist and giving him an even more pronounced “V” shaped physique.
Out of all of them, he was the only one unarmed.
After a few moments, the men must have reached a resolution because their heated discussion disbanded. Kitt wandered closer to my area of the bunker, so busy looking at something on his phone he barely seemed to notice where he was going. Yet, despite the lack of attention, he never missed a step on the grass or the stone pavers around the pool.
Okay, so even if he wasn’t law enforcement, he was more agile than the average man, not to mention the amount of muscle I’d felt under his shirt when I fell against him. I couldn’t for the life of me figure him out, and the mystery was driving me crazy.
Kitt was about twenty feet away from me when Clay ran up to him.
“Hey, um, Kitt, right. Sorry, we haven’t really met before, but is your phone working? I’m trying to call my brother, and I can’t get a signal through.”
