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“This is…uh…very nice.” I turn in a circle to emphasize my taking it all in. Both Pat and Don laugh.
“Do you remember our wedding day?” he asks me. I nod. It’s a date etched in my memory, even though I’ve never been able to celebrate it with him. “Come over here and press the four-digit year, two-digit day, then two-digit month on the register.”
“Why in that order? Isn’t it normally the month, day, and year?”
“That’s precisely why we don’t do it that way,” Don explains. “Please, go ahead and input the numbers.”
I do as they ask, and when I press the last number, I feel a vibration in the floor as the entire bar suddenly shifts. Ahh! I scream, surprised by the unexpected motion. I watch as the entire area is repositioned, the process taking about 15 seconds to complete. “What is this?”
Patrick walks me around in a circle and shows me how everything from the stools to the refrigerators is on a raised platform that hides the tracks underneath. When we’re done, Don is halfway down a hidden stairwell. “Follow me! There’s more to see!”
There’s also a short, narrow hallway underneath the “man cave” with a door at the end of it. With wide, questioning eyes, I stare at Patrick.
“My dad built a panic room. Once you unlock this door, the one that we came through will automatically close.”
As soon as I cross the threshold, the door closes behind us. I’m amazed beyond belief by what I see. “This isn’t a panic room, Pat. This is a panic apartment!” There must be at least three bedrooms, a full kitchen, two bathrooms, and a huge pantry.
“It’s more than a panic room. It’s also designed as a ‘zombie apocalypse’ shelter,” Don says, half teasing and half serious. “A family of six can live comfortably down here for up to six months with the provisions that Charlie and I have stocked. If you and Alex need to come down here, you’ll have access to food, water, shelter, sanitation, and communications.”
I grip Pat’s hand. “Where will everyone else be while we’re hiding?”
Calm and confidently, he says, “Ensuring that it’s safe for you to come out.”
Chapter twenty-one
Patrick
Ihelp Alex get ready for bed and tuck him in, still in awe that this precious child is mine. Aware that I don’t want to leave him unattended, my mom offers to watch over him so I can take Ariella back to the panic room to show her how to use the communications equipment.
Once we return to the “secret lair,” as Ariella has dubbed the place, she asks, “Why didn’t you show this room to me the day we got here? As protective as you are, I’m a little surprised that you didn’t sequester us down here from the get-go.”
“Ari, if you felt like the upstairs was a prison, with its large spacious living areas and a few closed curtains, how long do you think you would have lasted in a subterranean apartment with no windows and recycled air?” I ask, already knowing her answer. I laugh loudly when a look of absolute horror spreads across her face at the thought of being stuck down here. She shivers and shakes her head vigorously.
“They call this a ‘panic room’ for a reason. It should be used as a last resort when we are actually panicked and there is nowhere to escape to safely. I can always move you both down here until this is resolved. It should be over in a few more weeks, and there are plenty of board games in the closet to keep you entertained!” I turn toward the exit, “Yes! That’s what we should do! I’ll have you packed up in a jiffy!” I tease. Ariella would survive down here if she had to, but she would be miserable the entire time.
Grabbing my arm, she stops me from leaving. “Absolutely not! I was just curious as to why you waited to show me, that’s all.”
“If there is a panic room hidden in a safe house, we only reveal the information when the circumstances become dire enough for the client—or clients—to use it. Most of them don’t need that level of protection, and the fewer people who know about the rooms, the better. It minimizes the risk of that information becoming common knowledge. If someone has the right equipment and comes prepared, they can defeat the multiple layers of security and gain entrance. It would take them a lot of time to do it, but it’s possible.”
“And you believe that our circumstances have become dire? Is that why you finally told me about all this?”
“Yes and no. I do believe that an attack is imminent, and the use of the panic room is a very real scenario. But one of us would have escorted you and Alex down here, and we certainly wouldn’t have given you the code. One of the reasons I told you about this place is because you’re my family, not a client. I hope that you will return to the ranch often so Alex can continue to build a relationship with his grandparents, regardless of whether or not I’m in a position to join you. I need to know that you would be safe when you’re here.”
I sit in the plush office chair positioned in front of the three monitors, pulling her onto my lap as I lean back and get comfortable. I look toward the ceiling and send up a silent prayer that I get to be with them during those visits—that she chooses to have me be a part of her and Alex’s lives. Ariella rests her head on my shoulder and runs her fingers through my hair. My eyes close of their own volition, and I hum with contentment as I enjoy her touch. “And what’s the second reason?” she asks in a breathy whisper that tickles my ear.
My arm snakes around her waist, and I nuzzle her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of jasmine that permeates her skin. “I had to wait for Ethan and Ben to grant their permission. After learning of our marriage, Ethan and Ben no longer classified you as a client either. Family comes first at Shining Knight, so it didn’t take much coaxing after that.”
Ariella’s fingers move from my hair, her fingertips tracing down the side of my face. She uses her index finger to graze my jawline until she reaches the small dimple in my chin. She flips her finger over so that her nail scrapes lightly down my throat and over my Adam’s apple, which bobs as I swallow deeply. As Ariella memorizes my features through her gentle touch, her eyes never leave mine.
“I love you, Patrick. I love you enough to renounce my title and leave everything behind,” she tells me before kissing the side of my mouth.
“It’s something I should have done years ago.” She slowly moves to kiss the other corner.
“I never wanted to leave you. If I could rewind time, I would have stayed by your side on that island,” she whispers, and I feel the featherlight touch of her soft lips on mine.
“Ari. I…”
She places her finger on my mouth to silence me. “I need to say this. I don’t know when we’ll get another moment of privacy.”
