Chapter 11
About half an hour later, I was restless. Edgy. Figuring a drive would help, I grabbed my keys. I headed toward Toronto, deciding I would check on Cherry and, if she felt better, take her out. If not, I would go across the street and bring back some soup from her local Chinese place, then tuck her in for the night. But I wanted to see her. I needed to see her. She would help ease the restlessness I was feeling.
It was overcast and misty as I drove, the weather suiting my mood. The street was mostly deserted, the rain beginning as I turned onto the street where the salon was located. The area around me was foggy, the damp of the rain all around. Down the block ahead of me, I saw a small crowd. At the same time, I smelled it.
Smoke.
I parked and jumped from the vehicle. The rancid smell got stronger, and I realized the fog was more than fog.
The salon was on fire.
My heart plummeted when I realized how thick the smoke was.
I raced toward the side, shouting at the crowd. “Did anyone call 9-1-1?”
A woman responded with a yes. “They’re on their way.” She waved toward the building. “The salon is closed.”
“The apartments,” I snapped. “Are the occupants out?”
“We hammered on the doors, but no one is home, thank goodness,” someone else said.
Cherry’s words came back to me. “The Gravol makes me sleep hard…”
She was up there. Asleep. I knew it.
I raced down the back to the steps, taking them two at a time.
I heard someone behind me. “We checked!”
“She’s unconscious!” I yelled back. I didn’t stop running, slamming my shoulder into her door. It took me three attempts before the wood splintered and I fell inside Cherry’s small apartment. It was dark, filled with smoke.
I shouted her name, grabbing a bundle of material on the floor and covering my face. I realized it was a sweater she often wore and left by the door.
I couldn’t see anything as I stood, trying to find my way through the smoke, shocked at how easy it was to get lost in the swirling fog and heat. I headed toward the bedroom, tripping over something. I fell, hitting my head, cursing. I felt the warm blood dripping down my face, but it didn’t matter. Finding her mattered.
I crawled, finding my way to the bedroom, shocked to discover that she wasn’t in the bed. At first, I was relieved. Maybe she had gotten out. Maybe she never made it upstairs. Then I recalled the sound of the chain breaking as the door gave way. The chain wouldn’t have been on if she was out. Frantically, I began to search, ignoring the blood on my face, and the choking sound I was making from the smoke. I crawled toward the front door, my hand finding a foot to one side. Cherry was in a heap on the floor, the table beside her knocked over. Squinting, I could see that she had a gash on her head and her arm was bent at a strange angle. With a huge effort, I pulled her into my arms and stood. The smoke was pouring out the door, and I headed in the direction of the air movement, gasping for oxygen as I broke through the entranceway onto the landing outside. I carried her downstairs, fighting to breathe, desperate to help her. I laid her on the cold, damp ground, immediately beginning CPR. Her chest was barely moving as I fell into a rhythm, pumping her chest and breathing into her mouth, happy to give her what little oxygen I could.
Paramedics and firefighters rushed toward us, and one reached for her. “Let me take her, sir.”
I looked down at her face. Bloodied, bruised, and marked with soot. Her chest was still barely moving.
“She’s inhaled a lot of smoke,” I said, shocked at the sound of my own voice. Gritty. Raspy. “Please help her.”
“So have you. You both need to be looked at.”
Moments later, she was on a gurney, oxygen being pumped into her as they worked on her. I sat on the tailgate breathing in the mask they insisted I put on, while another paramedic checked out my cut. “Stop fidgeting,” she said. “I need to clean this gash and stop the bleeding. I’m Sheila, by the way. And you are?”
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “Look after her.” Then I huffed. “And I’m Dom. That is Cherry.”
“Cherry is in good hands. Tom is looking after her. You need to be looked after too,” Sheila informed me. “You were very brave to go in after her. And foolish.”
I shook my head, unable to take my eyes off Cherry. “She’s mine. I had to.”
Sheila put her hand on my arm. “She’s lucky to have you.”
“Is she going to be okay?” I asked, coughing.
Sheila handed me a bottle of water, which I gratefully drank. She looked at Tom, who nodded.
“She’s inhaled a lot of smoke, and we think she has a concussion. Her arm is broken. But all recoverable.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I can’t say the same for the building.”
I followed her gaze. Cherry’s home and place of business were gone. She was hurt.
I shut my eyes, realizing if I hadn’t decided to drive in, it could be much worse.
“I need to call her daughter.”
I saw movement from the gurney, and Cherry struggled to sit up, clearly panicked and confused. I stood, dropping the mask and climbing into the rig, ignoring Tom’s and Sheila’s protests.
I bent over Cherry, cupping her face. She was coughing and looking around wildly.
“Cherry, baby, it’s me. I’ve got you.”
“Dom,” she gasped, her voice barely audible. She wrapped her hands around my wrists.
“I got you,” I repeated. “You’re safe.”
“I woke up… There was smoke. I couldn’t find my way.”
“I found you.”
“Why?” she asked.
I didn’t know if she was asking why I came. Why I risked my life. Why I had to find her.
I had the same reply to all the questions.
I bent and gently pressed my lips to her head.
“Because I love you.”
“Dom!”
I pulled my aching head out of my hands and stood. Hannah rushed across the waiting room, Chase close behind her. Unable to get a hold of her, I had called Charly, who’d taken charge and sent Maxx to the theater to get Hannah and tell her what happened. He drove them into Toronto, making sure they arrived safely.
Hannah was visibly upset, gripping Chase’s hand as she stopped in front of me.
“Your head!” she gasped.
Ignoring the pain it caused, I shrugged. “They said it was too deep for butterfly bandages. The stitches make it look worse than it is.”
Hannah grabbed my arm. “I spoke with the paramedics, Dom. They said you risked your life to get her. You saved her.”
I frowned. “Of course I saved her. She needed me.”
Hannah flung her arm around my neck, hugging me hard. “Thank you,” she whispered brokenly.
I hugged her back as best I could, considering she was still holding on to Chase with a tight grip, as if she needed him to stay standing. “She’s going to be okay,” I assured her. “I spoke with the doctor, and he said she has a concussion, a broken arm, some bruising, and, of course, the smoke inhalation. They’re going to keep her overnight for observation.”
“Her apartment?” Chase asked.
I shook my head. “Gone. All of it. And the salon.”
Chase pulled Hannah close. “It’s okay, Cinnamon. She’ll stay with us.”
“She’ll stay with me,” I responded, my voice firm. “I’ll look after her.”
They blinked at my tone, and I drew in a calming breath. “I have room. And I can adjust my shifts.”
“She’s my mom,” Hannah protested.
“She’s mine to care for.”
A slow smile spread across Hannah’s face. “Is that a fact, Dom?”
“Yes.”
“I guess we’ll see about that.”
She headed to the nurses station, speaking to one of the women. She turned her head and looked at me, rolling her eyes, then headed to the back.
Chase glanced at me. “Should I ask?”
“They wouldn’t give me any information or let me see her unless I was family.”
“So you told them…?”
“I was her husband.”
“Which makes Hannah your…”
“Stepdaughter.”
“I guess that sort of makes me your son-in-law.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”
He grinned. “Okay then…Dad.”
“Shut it.”
“Can I have a bigger allowance?”
“Chase…” I warned.
“Maybe we can play ball on Sunday.”
His teasing made me smile. “Whatever.” I sat down, suddenly tired. He sat next to me.
“Seriously, you okay?”
“My head aches, and I smell like smoke. I feel as if I coughed up a lung earlier, but otherwise, I’m good.” I sighed. “As long as Cherry is okay, I’m good.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “Hannah would have been devastated if?—”
I held up my hand, not allowing him to finish that sentence. “Let’s not go there.”
“Okay. She is going to be fine. And so are you. We’ll all help.”
I shut my eyes, the pounding in my head becoming too much. “Good plan.”
The sound of Hannah’s voice woke me from my dreamlike state. Or nightmare feel, if I was being honest.
Fragments floated through my brain as I struggled to open my eyes. Leaving the salon with a headache. Going upstairs and taking some medication. Lying down, then waking up confused and surrounded by fog. Except, it wasn’t fog. It was smoke. Thick, rancid smoke that billowed around me, making me cough, stranding me lost in a room that a short time ago was familiar. I left my bed, falling over the rug and getting up, unsure which direction I was facing. I could see nothing but smoke. I knew I needed to move. To get to the door. But nothing seemed to work. My brain, my feet, my thought process—everything seemed to have short-circuited. I headed in what I thought was the direction of the door, except to hit the wall. I felt around, coughing and gasping for air until I felt the doorframe. I paused, drawing the map in my mind to the front door. To safety. I rushed forward, tripping over the small table, sprawling to the floor. I recalled the sharp pain in my head as well as my arm…and then nothing until I heard a voice calling my name.
Dom.
My eyes flew open, meeting Hannah’s tear-filled gaze.
“Oh, Mom,” she sobbed.
“Dom.” I reached for her hand, my movements jerky and causing me pain. “Dom was there. Is he okay?”
She laid her hand on my cheek. “Shh. He’s fine. He’s outside.”
“He saved me.”
I knew there was another memory there, but I couldn’t quite grasp it. It was something important, but my head hurt too much to concentrate.
“I know. The paramedics told me.”
“There was a fire,” I whispered.
She nodded. “In the salon.” She met my eyes. “It’s all gone, Mom. Everything.”
I shut my eyes. My head hurt. My arm ached terribly. My chest felt as if someone had put a fifty-pound weight on it. My throat was scratchy. The cannulas in my nose itched, and I wanted them gone.
“Water,” I begged.
A straw touched my lips, and I sipped gratefully.
“How bad?” I asked when I finished.
“You have a concussion, a broken arm, and you inhaled a lot of smoke.”
The last part wasn’t a surprise. I could taste the smoke. Smell it. I forced my eyes open and stared at the cast encircling my forearm.
“Pink?” I said, confused.
“I think Dom picked it.” Hannah leaned forward, speaking quietly. “In order to see you, he told them you’re married.”
I blinked.
“He what?”
She smiled. “I’m gonna call him Dad and watch him freak.”
“Serves him right.”
Hannah gently brushed my hair off my forehead. “I think we’ll cut him a little slack on this one, Mom. If it weren’t for him…”
I let out a long sigh, my eyes drifting shut. I had so many questions, but I was so tired.
“When can I go home?” I managed to get out.
“Not until tomorrow. They have to watch you overnight, and you have to stay on the oxygen.”
I felt the darkness pulling at me. I struggled against it, but it was stronger. A thought flitted through my mind.
“Where will I go now?” I wondered.
I felt a soft press of lips on my head. Heard the sound of another voice. One that soothed and assured. It was filled with emotion.
“You’ll come with me,” Dom whispered.
And I slept.
They woke me every few hours. Each time they did, Dom was there. Hannah came and went. Chase was standing beside Dom once, and he smiled reassuringly at me.
The room was lighter, my head clearer when I opened my eyes in the morning. Beside me, Dom slept, his head against the back of the chair, the bandage on his forehead bright against his olive skin and dark hair. He was in scrubs, his hair damp as if he’d showered. His long legs were crossed at the ankle, and he had one hand resting on my arm.
Beside him was a table, a jug of water beckoning. I cleared my throat, looking for a call button, but the simple action woke him. Dom’s eyes flew open, and he turned, meeting my gaze.
“There she is,” he murmured, his voice rough. “Hello, Cherry G.”
“Thirsty.”
He poured me some water, helping me sit up, and I sipped it, grateful.
“Better?”
“Much.”
He settled me back on my pillows.
“Have you been here all night?”
“Of course,” he replied as if affronted I would expect him to be anywhere else.
“Your head…”
He frowned. “Is fine. The nice nurses have been looking after me. They even loaned me some scrubs and let me shower so I didn’t smell like smoke as badly as I did.”
“Can you convince them to do the same for me?”
He ran his finger over my cheek. “As soon as the doc checks you out.”
I grabbed his hand. “You saved me.”
He didn’t answer.
“You saved my life, Dom. You risked your own to save me.”
“I had to.”
“Why?” I asked, the echo of the memory I was trying to recall last night reverberating in my mind.
He met my gaze, his eyes tired. Bloodshot. Filled with tenderness. “You know why, Cherry G.”
“Please.”
He leaned close. “I saved you for myself. I had to. I love you.”
Hearing the words was like small explosions going off in my head. My heart jumped, my breathing picked up, and my hand trembled as I cupped his face.
“I love you too.”
It was slow to start, then it grew. Wide. Surprised. Pleased. It was a different smile than I had ever seen on his face. One I had a feeling was only for me.
“Then for the first time, we’re on the same page,” he said quietly.
“I think we always have been. I kinda like to argue.”
He bent low, pressing his lips to mine. I was sure I reeked of smoke and my breath was equally terrible, but he didn’t care. “Never change.” He smiled against my mouth. “I love that stubborn part of you.”
“Good.”
“But you’re not going to argue about the fact that I’m taking you home. With me.”
“No. Hannah will look after me.”
“No. I will.”
“It’s not your place,” I argued weakly.
“I disagree.”
“I don’t think?—”
He cut me off by placing a finger on my mouth. “I have room. Time. Hannah and Chase both work. They’re young and developing a relationship.”
“You work,” I mumbled against his finger.
“Yep. And General Charly has it all figured out. I’m going to work scattered hours. She’s going to help me. Hannah will come and look after you when she can. So will the other girls. They all want to help.” He smirked. “They’re already organizing meals. We both benefit, Cherry. Besides, as your husband, it’s my job to look after you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “We haven’t discussed that lie yet.”
“I wasn’t staying away from you. It was either tell them I was your husband or beat down a few security people to get to you. Either way, I was coming into the room.”
Something in me melted at his possessive tone. His insistence he cared for me. I kissed the end of his finger that still touched my mouth.
“I’m going to look after you, and that is all there is to it.”
“You’re not the boss of me.”
He hovered over me, all levity gone. “Not the boss, but the man who loves you. Who you love. I almost lost you last night, and I am not letting you out of my sight. Understand?” He swallowed. “Don’t ask that of me right now.”
His eyes, his words, said everything. I gave in because the bottom line was, I wanted to be with him.
“I might be a terrible patient.”
A grin crossed his face, and he folded his arms, leaning on the bed. “I already know you’re gonna be a handful. Ordering me around. Refusing to listen to the doctor. Trying to do too much. I can’t let Hannah and Chase take that on. I can keep you in line.”
I scoffed at his words, and he winked.
“I have ways, Cherry. As soon as you’re feeling up to it, I’ll show you all of them.”
I was about to argue when I yawned, a wave of exhaustion hitting me. He kissed my hand and stood. “Sleep, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up. I’ll take you home later.” He paused then smiled. “Our home.”
“Temporarily,” I muttered.
“We’ll see,” he replied. “We’ll see.”