If we live through this... I have a question to ask...
It was dusty. Hard to breathe. She inhaled again, struggling to not cough at the dust and smoke that hung in the stale air. The overpowering smell of sweat, tinged with blood, seemed to burn her senses. Despite it, she clung to him, holding tightly to his muscular form, breathing the smell of his clothing. Her ears strained to hear something besides their own respiration, and the beating of his heart.
Another volley of gunfire pelted the crumbling structure they hid behind. She uttered a muffled gasp and grasped him tighter. He sighed and pressed her forehead against his cheek.
"I'm sorry I got you into this. We just have to hold out a little longer. Help's on its way. Trust me."
She swallowed, looking around at the bodies of fallen thugs and gangsters, and tried not to be ill. She'd smelled blood so many times before, but now, it made her sick. And all she could do was huddle behind a dilapidated hulk of twisted concrete and steel hardly big enough to shield them both, and hope, pray, and shiver as he held them off. He had tried to remain optimistic, but she knew he was worried. He was conserving his shots. She suspected they were rapidly running out of ammo.
He turned his face toward her, his eyebrows knitted with worry. "If we get out of this, I have something to ask you later."
"There might not be a 'later', Brandon."
He sighed and nodded. "I know. This wasn't exactly the setting I had in mind, but..."
They were interrupted by the wind picking up and a loud thump-thump-thumping. Both of them looked up to see a helicopter descending fifty feet away.
Brandon grabbed Scarlet's hand and pointed to the helicopter. "We need to get to that chopper-quick! It's our ticket out of here."
"But..."
"No buts! I've got three shots left. When I say run, you run for that chopper and don't look back."
"But what about you?"
"Run!"
He gave her a shove and she darted from behind the concrete mass, moving faster than she thought she ever had. She hardly heard hurried footsteps and gunshots behind her as she lunged into the helicopter and was caught up by the crew aboard the craft. Brandon barreled in right behind her, half diving, half-skidding to a stop inside. A crewman motioned to the pilot and then closed the door. The chopper lifted off, leaving a seething swarm of irate killers below.
Scarlet and Brandon took several minutes to catch their breath. Scarlet's heart pounded in her throat. She was safe. She was uninjured and out of harm's way. So was Brandon. He glanced over at her, expression communicating exhaustion and elation at the same time. Realizing that they had made it out alive, he snatched her up in his arms and kissed her.
When their lips parted, Scarlet smiled up at him. "It's later now. You were saying something a minute ago."
He smiled, slipped a hand into his inner coat pocket, and withdrew something. Scarlet swallowed as he reached for her hand. His eyes were intense as he looked at her, then glanced down.
A knot formed in Scarlet's throat as he slipped a ring onto her fourth finger. He looked up at her again. Her hand trembled in his.
"Samantha Francisco, will you marry me?"
