Read Online Withholding Evidence by Rachel Grant - Free Book Online Page B

fence. Go through it, cross the road, and keep running. Don’t look back. I’ll follow. I promise.”
    She scooted across the roof. At the edge, she dropped flat to her belly, then slid her legs over the edge while gripping the gutter. She quickly shifted one hand to the corner post and dropped out of sight.
    Keith waited until she ran clear of the roof before putting his weight on it, then he followed her lead and made his way to the edge. He slid on his butt, only flipping at the last moment to shove off the roof and jump backward. A support beam collapsed as he did so, and the roof came down, the debris falling with him to his small brick patio. He rolled to his feet and chased after Trina, catching her just on the other side of the gate. With an arm around her shoulders, he pushed her forward. They just needed to cross the lane and run up the rise, then they’d be far enough away—out of the blast zone.
    But they didn’t make it. A thunderous boom shook the ground. The shock wave sent him forward. He caught Trina and rolled, taking the brunt of the impact as he was ground into the paved road.

    T RINA COULDN’T BREATHE . She tried to suck in a breath, but nothing happened. Logically, she knew the impact had knocked the wind out of her, but it was hard to control the panic.
    A high-pitched whine filled an otherwise silent void.
    Can’t breathe.
    She rolled off Keith and struggled to her feet. He did the same. Massive road rash covered his arms. His back could only be worse.
    The ground felt like it was still moving, but that was probably her battered equilibrium. She swayed. Tried to take in a breath. Nothing.
    Keith cupped her face and said something. His mouth moved. Sound and air had both vanished, like she’d entered space but with a minimum of gravity.
    A great, gasping groan sounded, breaking the noise and air vacuum. She’d made the sound and managed to take in a sliver of oxygen. Her lungs expanded, but not enough. Not nearly enough.
    “Slowly, Trina.” This from Keith. A muted sound that drifted below the buzz. “Don’t try so hard.” His shirt was open and hung from his arms in pieces. His belt was still undone. Blood dotted his arms and tattered clothes.
    She managed another grunt, then a shallow breath. Slowly, her lungs filled with the acrid, smoke-filled air. She held her hand to her chest—her shirt was open like Keith’s, but thankfully not shredded—and turned away from the burning crater to gasp for cleaner air.
    With shaking hands, she buttoned her top. She had a million questions, but between her dulled hearing and inability to breathe, she could hardly voice them. Keith placed a hand on her back and pulled her close, hugging her against his chest.
    She took in several slow breaths, utterly grateful for the feel of his beating heart against her cheek.
    He spoke directly into her ear. “Ambulance, police, and fire will be here any moment. You need to be checked out at a hospital.”
    “So do you!” She yelled the words but could barely hear them.
    He nodded. “I won’t leave you.” She read the words on his lips, heard them in a faint echo of sound that rode above the high-pitched ringing that tried to block everything else.
    His lips touched hers, then he took her hand, and they slowly walked down the street, Trina with a slight limp. She’d twisted her ankle either when she climbed from the roof or when they rolled. She hadn’t felt it at the time.
    They had to circle a long block to get back to the street Keith’s town house faced. Or rather, had faced. The wail of sirens cut through the ringing in her ears. The first responders were arriving.
    They reached the corner and saw a crowd had formed a block ahead in front of the row of town houses. More people were filling the street as they approached. People’s eyes widened and they cleared the way for them both as she limped toward a fire engine that blocked the wreckage that had been Keith’s town house from view. Two