Chapter 7
SEVEN
Something about the way she looked at him sucked all the oxygen out of the ambulance and made him feel like a teenager with a crush again. Anthony would have to watch himself in any confined spaces he shared with Della Nixon.
You can call me Della.
A warmth for once in her brown-eyed gaze, instead of an icy dismissal, felt like winning a well-fought-for prize. Maybe because from the first day he’d seen her on the job, he’d known she was completely out of his league, striking him dumb and unable to complete a simple sentence.
Kianna gave her the all clear, but Lieutenant Patterson sent her back to the firehouse with Anthony instead of letting her help with the cleanup once the fire was out. “I need you to finish wrapping those gifts and getting the final details ready for the toy drive.”
It was a safer option, so Anthony didn’t dispute it, but Della seemed frustrated by her boss’s command.
He held an umbrella over her head as they rushed to his car.
He cranked the heat and headed back to the station.
She shivered on the passenger side, glaring out the window at the sleet and freezing rain.
Maybe he could help her focus on something else.
“Tell me about this toy drive,” he said. “Sounds like it’s a big deal.”
She turned toward him. “How have you lived in Last Chance and not heard about the toy drive? We do it every Christmas.”
Oh, right. A Christmas thing. He should’ve picked a different subject. He tried to keep his smile nonchalant. “I’m not really into the whole Christmas thing.”
“The Christmas thing? I thought you went to church with Collins and some of the other guys.”
“So?”
“Christmas is one of the most important holidays in the church. God coming down to earth and all? That seems like a big deal. You sound like you’d rather have a tooth pulled. Without pain medication.”
Anthony tugged on his collar. “I believe that the Son of God taking on flesh is a big deal. But I’ve never been big on the commercialized version—people spending more money than they should on over-the-top presents, outlandish displays of obnoxious yard decorations, overeating super unhealthy food.
Doesn’t seem much like celebrating the birth of Christ.”
“I can see that, but…I dunno, I guess I think more about families coming together, people gathering to celebrate something good for once, decorating and bringing light to dark places. The toy drive is just trying to give children in tough circumstances something special, to show them that they matter. We decorate the firehouse, the trucks, and someone will dress up as Santa and hand out presents. And for these kids, one toy can really make a difference. It’s my favorite part of the holiday. ”
“Really?”
She smiled. “Yeah. In fact, I’m in the process of becoming a foster parent so I can help kids out that really need it.”
The tenderness in her voice struck him deep.
Seeing the holiday through her eyes, well, it was what he’d wanted Christmas to be when he was a kid.
For a few months, he’d been in the foster system himself, waiting for his mother to be released from psychiatric treatment.
The fact that Della wanted to help children in similar situations impacted him more than he was ready to admit.
“Well, I would hate to disappoint children. Do you need help with anything?” If he could help Della forget her troubles for a bit, it would be worth it.
“I do still need a Santa…” She smirked from the other side of the car.
He shook his head and laughed. “Uh, that’s a hard no. I’m not jolly enough for that role. But if you need a grinch, I’m your guy.”
“It was worth a shot.” She smiled at him, a little glint in her eye. “But I don’t think of you as a grinch. Green isn’t your color.”
“You don’t think so?”
“I mean, you look good in any color but—” She cleared her throat, mumbled something under her breath. “I’m gonna stop talking now.”
“What was that?” he asked. “I must be hearing things, because it kinda sounded like you think I look good.”
Her cheeks flushed bright red. “Shut up and keep your eyes on the road. At this rate, your ego won’t fit through the cargo door at the station.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Anthony grinned. With a lot of effort, he pulled his focus back to what was happening outside. Her blushing smile almost had him reconsidering the Santa thing.
Almost.
It certainly had him considering other things. Like asking her out, if he could pull the words together. Probably not the best timing while protecting her, but he couldn’t deny the hope that welled up inside. Hope that if he did ask, maybe she wouldn’t brush him off.
Back at the almost empty firehouse, they shed their wet jackets and gear and got to work in the small storage room again while waiting for the others to get back. Della measured out wrapping paper and cut while he folded and taped. Their pile grew until she pulled another box out.
“What else happens at this toy drive?” Anthony put a sticky green bow on a LEGO set they’d wrapped.
“We’ll have a big meal for the kids and their caretakers here at the firehouse. Some games and crafts too. Santa is the big finale. After the guests leave, we have our work Christmas party. It’s fun.”
She glanced up at him through her dark lashes, her lips tipping up into a slight smile like she was going to say more—and froze. She swayed, her body listing to one side before she caught herself on the edge of the table.
“Della, are you—”
She swallowed hard. Closed her eyes. “I just got really dizzy.”
A wave of nausea hit Anthony. How had he not registered the onset of a headache?
His migraines often came on hard and fast, but he usually felt one before it was this bad and took his meds to stave it off. He must’ve been distracted.
The whole room tilted. For a quick moment, he looked up, trying to figure out what was going on. “Up there. What’s that?” He pointed to the barely visible cloud of white gas dropping into the room from a vent.
Della started to look up but then fell to the ground before Anthony could catch her.
“Della!”
Whatever it was coming through that vent, it wasn’t good.
Air. They needed fresh air.
He dragged Della to the door. Collapsed against it. The knob didn’t budge.
Locked in.
His legs refused to work. Anthony dropped down to the ground next to Della. Her eyes didn’t open when he tried to rouse her. She moaned, clutched her head, and curled into a ball.
Thoughts didn’t form. But pure instinct had him pounding on the door. They needed out. Now.
Help. He needed to call for help. Anthony reached for his radio.
Not there. He’d set it on a charger when they came inside.
Phone? His hands felt heavy and clunky as he searched his pockets. His vision blurred, blackness creeping in on the sides. He pounded the door again.
They were trapped, and he was losing consciousness.
Some protector he’d turned out to be.