Page 17 of Defended By Love

Still, I can at least try to get some answers.

Pushing my way through the crowd takes minimal effort. Most people are haunting the scene, drawn to the despair of destruction while grieving the loss of our city’s most sparkly jewel. They get pushed aside with a mere ‘excuse me’.

The reporters are much more tenacious. They’re rooted to the ground like parasites on a host. While the citizens feel a dull disconnect about what has happened, the reporters have honed on the more important part: this shouldn’t have happened.

My previous tactic of moving forward in the crowd leads nowhere. Elbows prove equally futile. So, I change to something that speaks their language.

“Excuse me,” I say, using my imperious courtroom voice, projecting for all to hear. “I work here and need to discuss something with the police.”

And, just like that, the crowd parts.

The chatter turns into a bated anticipation. They know there’s the possibility that I’m nobody and have nothing to say, but they’ve been dealing with nothing all day. On the off chance that I am somebody, they know I’m their best bet of getting a story if they can overhear me.

“Stay back,” the police officer says in a detached voice when I approach. “This area is off-limits.”

“Hi,” I say, switching to my witness interview voice—the one I use when I really need them on our side. “I hate to bother you. It’s just that I work there.”

The reporters hold their breath as the police officer looks me over. Suddenly, I’m regretting my choice to go out in casual wear. I practically sleep in blazers. ‘Always be prepared for the opportunity to work’ is my motto. Why did I decide to shirk it today?

Must have been my orgasm-addled brain.

Or, you know, the trauma of almost dying.

“I’d say worked there.”

I wince. He’s right. It still hurts though.

“I’m just worried about my coworkers,” I lie. “Can you at least tell me if everyone’s alright?”

The cop now turns his full attention onto me.

“If you really worked there, then you’d know that the whole place was closed and emptied for fumigation. We’ve double checked their security systems and it’s been confirmed that no one was in the building. Another lucky break.”

He takes a step towards me, pushing me back. Oops. I hadn’t realized that I’d stepped right to the precipice of the barricade to crane my neck at the wreckage. A glint of a colour among the sea of building catches my eye for a moment. It tugs at a thought in my subconscious.

“Now, why don’t you and all your reporter buddies back off. I’ve been here since the middle of the night, so it’s about time I have nothing left to say to you all except no comment.”

My brain abandons worrying at the thread about the colour as it fixates on his words.

“What do you mean by ‘another lucky break’? What’s the other one?”

The cop narrows his eyes at me, looking seriously pissed.

“Nothing. No comment.”

“You’ve been here since the middle of the night?”

“Yes,” he growls.

“Here? At this exact spot?”

“Jesus, yes. I am so sick of all these questions.”

I mull that over.

“You’ve been here because you’ve needed to set a perimeter at a safe distance. Only people with the proper protective hazmat suits can go any closer.” Although, there do appear to be several non-suited people milling around. One of them appears to be my boss, Dominic. The other is a tall man with a presence as big as he is. He’s too far away for me to really discern his features. I see enough, though, to feel like I recognize him.

Who could possibly be so important that my boss would talk to him before he even reached out to his own employees? I memorize what I can of the tall man, adding him to my mental file about this whole situation.

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