The Enforcer - Kelli Callahan Page 0,18

lungs can’t comprehend what’s happening.

“Hey there! it’s okay!” he says, tapping me on the shoulder. “It’s alright. Just breathe. Breathe deeply and slowly. In through the nose, out the mouth,” he orders, rubbing my shoulder.

“Where are we?” I ask, looking around, finding myself inside a moving car.

“Somewhere in Wyoming.” I sit up quickly, looking around.

“Wait... what? We’re in Wyoming? You know what, I certainly hope so,” I say, coughing hard again. “We live in Wyoming.”

“Yes, well, let’s just say that we’re not gonna be in Wyoming for long.”

“What do you mean?” I ask mechanically and look around. The trees of our town are gone, giving way to a barren looking landscape suitable only to cattle ranchers and semi-drivers.

“We have to get you away from here,” he says.

“What are you talking about? I’ve already run off with you once and look where it landed me! I nearly died in a second fire!”

“Two fires in a matter of weeks. You know, what do you think the odds are of that?” he asks, turning to me, challenging me. “We’re dealing with some kind of arsonist who’s stalking you. Do you really think she will stop, now? Have you any idea how many people were injured in the fire tonight?” he asks, and I start to argue.

“Do you?”

“Two thousand people live in my building, Diana.” I open my mouth and close it. Two thousand people. They are likely home at that time of night. He shakes his head. “If I take you to a hotel, now, how many people are we willing to put at risk? How many people are worth your life?” he snaps. “Christ’s sake woman; listen to me. We have to leave. We have to get as far away as we can to protect the people around you,” he says, shaking his head. “Fire. Dying in a burning building is a horrible way to go,” he murmurs, his eyes hard on the road.

“I can’t help it!” I start to cry, quietly turning my face out to the landscape, still in my pajamas. “I’m sorry, Jake,” I mumble.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. It’s only your fault if you put people at risk from being stupid,” he says, and I nod. “We have to get you somewhere off-grid until we can get our bearings and know who and what we’re dealing with,” he says. “How did they even find us?” he asks. “No one knew that you left the hotel. Not the chief. Not Noah,” he says trailing off.

“Holly.”

“What do you mean?” he demands.

“I called Holly while you were in the shower. I told her that I was staying at your apartment and we left the hotel.”

“Goddamnit, Diana!”

“I didn’t know I couldn’t!” I argue, irritation welling within me. “I didn’t know I couldn’t make a phone call to my daughter! Why wouldn’t I be able to?”

“No. Someone burned down your home. They tried to kill you. And you were booked in a hotel under a fake name.” He stares at me, his eyes full of shock.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t use your phone because it’s been tapped. Erase social media, because if logged in, it checks you in for wherever you are. Facebook is the fucking worst,” he says, throwing his arms in the air. “You don’t have your phone, do you?” he checks, turning to me.

“No. It was at the apartment, you know.”

“Good. I don’t have mine either,” he says.

“How are we going to tell people we’re okay?” I am watching the landscape behind him zoom past us at a heart stopping speed.

“We won’t,” he says with a nod. “We go dark. We don’t tell anyone anything. As far as anyone knows, we died in the fire. They’ll be rummaging through the remains of that building for days.”

“I hope everyone got out.” Hot tears trickle down my face as I turn to face the passenger window. “I don’t want Holly to think that I’m dead.”

“Better for her to think you’re dead, but for you to not actually be dead,” he says so callously. I turn to face him.

“That’s my child,” I say.

“Yes. If you want her to keep having a mother, know letting her think the worst until we get this sorted out is the best thing for her,” he says, turning to me. “Don’t do anything stupid, again. It’s not just your life you’re putting at risk; it’s mine too,” he says, shaking his head.

“If we’re totally cut off from the world,” I say, adjusting my