Page 6 of Securing Jane

She nodded, and he grimaced in commiseration. In training, he’d always worn a gas mask until being told to remove it. He’d never taken a spray right in the face, and certainly never with his eyes open.

He’d been relieved when he’d opened the door to the mail room, but now he knew this was more serious than he’d first thought.

“Come on, we need to get you to the decon station.”

Jane nodded and allowed him to help her to her feet, but she stayed hunched over and didn’t touch him in any way, shape or form. Storm realized that was because her hands were covered with the orange-red spray, as was her upper body.

Whoever had rigged that mail bomb knew what they were doing.

In compliance with federal regulations, there was a small shower-like decontamination station in the corner of the basement mail room. As far as Storm knew, it had never been utilized…until now.

He turned on the water, and at first it came out a rusty brown color, but it quickly began to run clear. Jane whimpered at hearing the water.

Without hesitation, Storm wrapped an arm around Jane’s waist and stepped under the water with her. They were both soaked in seconds, but at the moment, he didn’t worry about that. He needed to wash the caustic spray off Jane’s face and hands.

The water was cold, and he felt her shiver under his hands, but she didn’t pull away. Snot ran down her face and she’d gotten some vomit on her clothes, both washed away in the spray, but Storm had seen far worse in battle.

Tilting her face up to the water, Jane did her best to not drown herself as she tried to wash off the spray and cough at the same time.

Storm wasn’t unaffected by the toxic atmosphere, although he hadn’t gotten a direct hit in the face. He felt his eyes watering and his own mucus membranes doing their best to repel the nasty chemical. But he ignored his own suffering and concentrated on doing what he could for Jane.

Her medium length brown hair was covered in the CS gas, and he tried to help her wash it out. Everywhere he looked, he saw the telltale signs of the orange spray. “You’re going to have to take off your shirt and pants,” he told her as gently as he could. “I can see it dripping down your body.”

For just a moment she seemed to panic, but then she wiped her face of all emotion. She hadn’t opened her eyes longer than it took to try to rinse them out, but he felt her body tense under his hands.

Finally, she nodded and brought her hands up to the first button on her shirt.

“I’ve got it,” Storm told her.

It suddenly felt as if they were the only two people in the world, the situation more intimate than it should have been, given the circumstances. Storm quickly undid the buttons on her shirt one by one, helping her shrug out of it when he was done. She was left standing in front of him in a soaking white cotton bra that did nothing to hide her assets. She was full figured and rounded in all the right places. Her nipples were taut from the cold water, and he saw goose bumps on her arms.

“Hang on, almost done,” he soothed, reaching for the belt around her waist. He quickly undid it and unbuttoned her khakis. He circled her and kneeled, pulling the wet material down. She kicked off her shoes and stepped out of her pants.

Storm stood and pushed her clothes off to the side. He moved until he was standing in front of her again, but not in the way of the shower. He put his hands on either side of her face and gently tilted it up into the water. “You’re going to have to try to keep your eyes open as long as you can, Jane. I know it hurts, but you have to wash that shit out.”

She nodded, coughed, then squinted, doing her best to follow his directions. Storm could see how much it hurt, and he couldn’t help but admire her bravery. “That’s it. Good. Just like that.”

He had no idea how long they’d stood in the cramped decontamination shower, but eventually she was able to keep her eyes open for longer than half a second at a time. They were bloodshot and red rimmed when she finally opened them long enough to look at him, and when she did, he hated what he saw there.

Shame. Embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, then coughed violently once more.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he told her vehemently. “Nothing. From where I’m standing, you did everything right.”

“I couldn’t get to the decon station,” she admitted. “Everything hurt too bad. I fucked up.”

Storm was shaking his head before she’d finished speaking. “No, you did what you were trained to do. You got your employees out, did what you could to keep the particulates from escaping.”

“I threw up,” she whispered.

Storm hated the embarrassment she so obviously felt. “That’s your body’s way of getting rid of whatever is contaminating it. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Jane. You should see the cadets in boot camp. They act like they’re dying, and they don’t get nearly as big a dose of CS gas in their faces as you did.”

“You’re sure it was CS gas?” she asked.

“Ninety-nine percent, yeah,” Storm told her. “I recognized the smell the second I walked into the room.”

She frowned. “How’d you get in here?”