Nanny for the SEALs by Cassie Cole

41

Heather

I had never been in shock before.

One minute I was standing in the stairwell, desperately searching for Brady. The next moment, a masked man was pointing a gun in my face. My brain instantly shut off. It was like the opposite of waking up from a dream. Suddenly I was in a dream-like state. It felt like I was watching the events happen to someone else on TV.

The man told me to walk forward, so I walked forward. He told me to drop the radio, so I dropped the radio. My focus narrowed to his commands, because that was easier than dealing with the reality of potentially being seconds away from death.

Then a figure flew through the air, kicking the door closed on the shooter’s arm. The gun fell to the ground. It landed next to my foot. I could have grabbed it and commanded the shooter to stop moving.

Instead, I collapsed to the corner of the stairwell, folding myself into as small a target as possible. The shooter disappeared. Then Brady told me to stay there.

So I stayed there.

Even when the fire alarm went off, I didn’t move. I crouched in the corner of the stairwell, pressing against it like I could disappear into the drab-grey wall.

A nice couple—they reminded me of my grandparents—gently shook me to get my attention, then guided me to my feet and helped me downstairs.

Slowly, the shock began to wear off.

I was in the hotel lobby. Police were everywhere, interviewing hotel guests. I had just talked to one of them, I think. I told him what had happened. Now I was staring at the sushi restaurant to the left of the front desk.

Asher appeared through the hotel entrance. He scanned the room, found me, and then sprinted across the lobby. When he reached me, he wrapped me in a fierce hug.

“We heard,” he whispered into my hair. “Are you okay? How do you feel?”

“I feel fine,” I said, even though I didn’t feel anything at all. It was like my emotions were covered in a layer of numbness.

Asher held my hand and led me out of the hotel. I spotted Brady by the front desk, discussing something with two police officers and an EMT. He never looked in my direction.

I barely remembered the ride home. I do remember looking at the kitchen clock when we went inside. It was almost two.

Rogan came out of the hallway, a phone pressed to his ear. “We have her safe at home now. LAPD is there, in addition to our own security agent. We… Let me call you back.” He hung up and hugged me every bit as fiercely as Asher had. “Thank God you’re okay, Heather. What happened?”

“She doesn’t need to tell us now,” Asher said, but I waved him off.

“No, it’s okay. I need to say it out loud, I think.”

“Do you want to sit down?” Rogan asked.

“I’m fine standing.” I cleared my throat. “The shots came from our hotel. Brady went to chase them. But he stopped responding to his radio. Cooper was asking for his status, and he wasn’t responding, and I just… I just panicked. I thought something had happened to him. And I heard screaming somewhere upstairs, so I climbed the stairs a few floors and then… and then…”

The scene came back to me with nauseating clarity. The shooter appearing and aiming his gun at me. But now that I was remembering it, the layer of numbness was gone. And all the emotions I should have felt in the moment slammed into me like a hundred-pound gorilla.

I almost died. I had a gun pointed at my fucking face!

My stomach roiled like an angry sea. I pushed Asher out of the way and made it to the kitchen sink in time to empty my stomach all over the pristine stainless steel.

A hand rubbed my back. “It’s okay. This is all normal.”

“None of this is normal!” I managed to say before vomiting again.

Asher got me a glass of water while Rogan held my hair back. Finally my stomach settled down, but guilt quickly replaced it.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“It’s not your fault,” Rogan said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

His words didn’t comfort me. I knew the truth.

I had fucked everything up.

*

I don’t know how I managed to sleep, but I did. I guess adrenaline gives one hell of a crash.

“Miss Heather?” Dustin was asking me. “Are you okay?”

I opened my eyes and saw the boy standing next to his bed. His blanket was in one hand, and he was still wearing his Boston Red Sox jammies.

“I’m okay,” I said while getting up. “Just extra sleepy. Come on. Let’s wake your brother and sister up.”

I got the kids changed and made them breakfast—pancakes with fresh fruit. I thought again about last night, standing in the stairwell with the gun aimed at me, and another bout of nausea buffeted me. I just barely pushed it down without throwing up again.

To my surprise, the boys were behaving this morning. Micah even asked if he was being good enough to get a star for breakfast.

“You sure are,” I said.

He grinned widely at his siblings. “I’m going to get a treat from the big bucket tonight!”

“Nuh uh! I am!” Dustin shot back at him.

“All of you can get a treat from the big bucket,” I said. “If you’re good!”

Micah turned and whispered to Dustin, “I’m going to be so good.”

“I’m going to be the goodest,” Dustin whispered back.

The dads were all gone. Taking care of the fallout from last night, probably. I watched TV with the kids, then joined them for arts and crafts. I taught them how to make pop-up cards for Father’s Day, which was coming up in a few weeks. Dustin and Micah focused really hard on their cards, and the result turned out pretty good.

I made sure to give Cora plenty of attention and praise, too. I wasn’t going to take her behavior for granted anymore.

Brady came home just before lunch. The kids all jumped up and hugged him. I wanted my turn and then embraced him as tightly as I could.

“I’m really glad you’re okay,” I whispered into his shoulder. “Last night was so scary.”

Brady returned the hug, but not with as much warmth. “You too.”

I pulled away and grimaced. “You’re mad at me, aren’t you? You have every right to be. I messed up.”

I was hoping he would tell me it was okay, that I hadn’t messed up, that it was unavoidable. But Brady’s face was stoic as he said, “We shouldn’t have been screwing around on the job. If we weren’t distracted, maybe we could have gotten to the shooter quicker. I thought I had him in the stairwell, but…”

He trailed off and looked everywhere but at me.

“I was afraid for your life,” I said. “You weren’t responding on the radio…”

“Because I was trying to be silent,” he said simply.

“…and I feared the worst. I knew I should have stayed in the hotel room, but I had to see if you were okay. I told myself that I could help if you were hurt, and…”

I trailed off. It didn’t matter what I had felt in the moment, because it was obvious now that I had made a tremendous mistake. If I hadn’t gone into the stairwell, Brady probably would have gotten the shooter.

“There’s nothing we can do about it now,” Brady said, moving past me. “I just came upstairs to get changed. We’re meeting with Amirah’s agent.”

“Are they firing you?” I asked. “Firing HLS Security, I mean?”

“We’ll find out today,” Brady said.

He didn’t close his door any harder than normal, but in my guilty emotional state, it sounded like a slam.