Chapter 45
FORTY-FIVE
WARREN
Crash. Rain. Hospital.
The hinges of the door shriek in protest as it smacks against the wall. I stumble into the corridor, frantic, with only one boot on, when Gregson, our lieutenant, pokes his head around the corner.
“You good, O’Connor? What’s all the racket?” He eyes me gingerly.
“I’ve got to go.” My keys fall from my pocket as I hop on the spot to shove my foot in my other boot. “Shit. I need to go!”
“Hey, hey. Calm down. What’s going on?” He raises his palms. “Do you need me to call the captain?”
My hands shake as I scoop up keys and pat my pocket, double checking for my phone.
“Why would you need to call him?” I spit in annoyance. He’s delaying me from getting where I need to be.
Fuck, I’m going to be sick.
“You seem upset…”
I pause.
Gregson has been around for a while and is familiar with my history at my old firehouse. He thinks I’m spiraling. There isn’t time for spiraling. Not until Harriet is in my arms, safe and unharmed. She sounded shaken up on the phone as she reassured me she was okay.
A deer. A motherfucking deer plowed through the windshield of Parker’s truck and then skipped away as if nothing happened.
Crash. Rain. Hospital.
Harriet was in a car accident.
Harriet was caught in a rainstorm.
Harriet is at the hospital.
She said she’s fine. The baby’s fine. It’s a precaution.
“My partner was in an accident.” The words claw their way out of my throat. “She’s at the hospital.”
His eyes widen. “Shit. Go. I hope she’s okay. Call if you need anything.”
I’m already sprinting toward the rear exit.
Rubber squeals and burns as I speed out of the lot.
Panic blurs everything until I almost blow past a stop sign.
I’m no good to Harriet if I end up in a wreck.
The rain is relentless, pounding against my skin as I jump out of the truck and sprint toward the hospital entrance.
Wet tarmac turns into tiled floor, and I nearly collide with a hospital porter pushing a wheelchair while searching for the ER.
It’s a tiny hospital, yet somehow, I still get lost. I skid to a halt and scan the confusing signage.
Emergency Department left.
I barely hear a nurse telling me to slow down through the roaring in my ears.
She said she’s fine. The baby’s fine. It’s a precaution.
My self-assurance does jack-shit to calm me. Nausea has riddled me ever since Harriet called me. Not even twenty-fours since we decided to move forward together and disaster strikes.
She said she’s fine.
The baby’s fine.
It’s a precaution.
Over and over, I repeat those words until a flash of blonde peeking out from behind a blue curtain catches my attention. I’m there in a heartbeat, snatching it to the side. Harriet smiles at the nurse adjusting a strap across her belly. Her mouth drops when she sees me.
“Warren,” she gasps.
She’s breathing, giving me permission to do the same.
I’m a wreck; hair plastered to my face from a mixture of sweat and rain, and my boot laces almost trip me up as I stride to where she lies.
My hands find her cheeks, moving to her neck, arms, legs before finishing on her belly. I gently search every inch of her, checking for the tiniest scratch. I’m no longer on the verge of cracking and crumbling under the heaviness of my thoughts, leaving my body to tremor in the aftermath.
“Hey. Breathe.” She cups my jaw when her calm gaze meets my manic one. Her soothing voice anchors me amidst the crashing waves trying to sweep me away. “We’re okay. You didn’t have to come here so quickly.”
“Nothing was stopping me from getting to you,” I croak and push back the damp strands of hair clinging to her cheek. “You’re safe?”
She nods. “I’m safe.”
I turn to the nurse, hands never leaving Harriet. “How is everything? Blood pressure, heart rate. What about blood tests?”
“Ah, Harriet mentioned you’re an EMT. There’s no need for blood work, and all other vitals are exactly where we want them to be.
” She flicks a switch on the machine. A steady thrumming fills the cubicle, one of my favorite sounds next to Harriet’s laugh.
“Baby’s heartbeat is strong, and we have no concerns about their movement.
You should be able to go home soon. I’ll keep you monitored for another ten minutes and make the call. ”
The nurse gives me a sympathetic smile before leaving us alone.
My next move is instinctual, the final check to assure me she’s safe. The softness of her full lips ground me. She huffs in surprise before sighing into the kiss, and the tiny noise delivers an air of calm into my overworked lungs.
She’s safe.
She’s in my arms.
She’s breathing.
This isn’t a call. History isn’t repeating itself.
I pull back an inch, scanning her flushed face.
“Hello.” She laughs breathlessly.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
She worries her lip. “I’m sorry for all the drama.
We’re honestly fine. The truck took the brunt of the damage, but the EMT wanted me to get checked out just in case.
” My hand falls to her stomach, and she answers my silent question.
“They’re good, Warren. Kicking and punching right before you got here. ”
Fingers spread wide, I level my breathing, waiting for a small thump or tap.
I frown. “I don’t think they like me.”
“They adore you.”
This tiny human knocked me on my ass when they first made their existence known. They still do, only now, it’s blended with something new, the same thing that shines in Harriet’s eyes as she watches me.
Love.
After a few minutes, Harriet sighs. “They’re making me out to be a liar.”
“It’s fine. They’re probably tired. As is their mama.”
“Okay, Miss Thomas.” The nurse returns and reads the screen before unstrapping the belt from Harriet’s waist. “I’m happy with everything if you are. Any sudden pains, bleeding, or anything doesn’t feel right at all, you come right back.”
“I will. Thank you so much.” Harriet swings her legs off the bed, but they don’t get the chance to hit the floor. “Warren! Put me down.”
“Yeah, not gonna happen.” Ever. I turn to the nurse. “She shouldn’t be walking, right?”
She rolls her lips in amusement. “Dad’s a protective one, huh?”
“You’re telling me.” Despite her grumblings, Harriet hooks an arm around my neck while I grab her purse from the side.
“A few minutes off your feet will be nice. Plus”—the nurse leans in—“don’t pretend you’re upset. Look who’s carrying you.”
Harriet’s annoyance holds no weight. Her breath hitches when I hike her higher up my body. “He’s not awful to look at. C’mon, let’s go find Parker and get out of here.”
“Found her.” I turn toward the voice. Parker eyes us both suggestively. “This is very An Officer and a Gentleman. Should I give you two some privacy?”
“Shut up.” Harriet giggles.
Parker is the reason my girl is safe and sound. I’m not too fond of letting go of Harriet, so instead, I balance her on one arm and haul Parker into a hug with the other.
“Oh!” she yelps, though it’s muffled into my chest. “What the hell is happening?”
“Thank you.” My voice wobbles.
Parker wrangles out of my awkward embrace, her eyebrows drawn up in surprise. “You’re thanking me?”
“Harriet told me how quickly you reacted. Most people would’ve panicked and swerved. You didn’t. You kept calm and the three of you safe. So, yeah, I’m thanking you. I’d like to pay for any damage too. Leave your insurance out of it.”
“I can’t let you do that.” She peers at Harriet, searching for reinforcement.
“Yeah, don’t bother. He’s stubborn and won’t take no for an answer. Can I get down now?”
“No,” Parker and I reply in unison.
Neither Harriet nor Parker complain at my snail’s pace back to town. My nerves are a wreck, fingers cramping as they clutch the wheel. Only after I drop Parker off and we step through the front door of the cottage do I regain a shred of control.
“This is getting ridiculous.” Harriet scowls at me, face inches from mine as I carry her bridal style up the stairs. “I’m capable of walking. There isn’t a scratch on me.”
Inside her en suite, I place her gently on the bath mat, my hands lingering on her hips.
“Humor me, sweetheart.” I brush an errant strand of hair aside. My next words clog my throat, the vulnerability in them almost choking me. “I know you’re fine, but those are words. I need something tangible. I was fucking petrified when you called, and it might seem like I’m overreacting…”
Something in my expression must pull at her heartstrings, because her face softens. “Don’t apologize for caring. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She rests her cold hand over mine, reminding me she needs a warm shower and a change of clothes. I reach around her, flipping on the warm spray of water. My panic lingers, making the bathroom appear smaller, but I can’t bring myself to leave.
“Are you joining me?” The question isn’t playful or suggestive.
If it was, forcing a smile would drain every last drop of my energy, so I shake my head and turn away as she sheds her clothes. “I, um, won’t watch, but I don’t want you to be alone.”
The words feel ridiculous as they leave my mouth. How do I explain the dark corners of my mind are rearing their ugliness again, reminding me of everything I’ve tried to forget and heal from?
“You can look at me.”
No. I can’t.
She moves behind me and sighs as she steps under the shower. I clutch the edge of the vanity, eyes clamp closed as my chest constricts from the memories.
I could have lost them.
“Warren,” Harriet whispers. “It’s okay.”
It isn’t. A heartbeat. That’s how quickly it could’ve taken for hers to stop.
“Warren,” she repeats, louder this time.
“I can’t lose you.” The marble digs into my palms. “I can’t.”
“Look at me.” The sirens and flashing lights drag me from reality, drowning out her voice. “Warren. Look at me.”
Crash. Rain. Hospital.
Crash. Rain. Hospital.
Crash. Rain. Hospital.
“Warren!”
I’m thrust from the memory, and my head snaps to Harriet, who stands in the bathtub, water sluicing down her naked body. Her eyes are wide, panicked almost.
“I’m here. I’m safe. We’re safe.” She reaches for me, but I can’t move. Fear pools at my feet, shackling me.
“I could’ve lost you both.”
Her frown deepens. “But you didn’t. Come here.”
The concrete immobilizing me cracks, and I stumble toward her until her wet palm meets my cheek. “Breathe, Warren.”
I’m half under the stream of warm water, drenching my already damp jeans and T-shirt. She takes my trembling hand and presses it to her stomach. “Do you feel this? That’s your baby. They’re fine.” Her hand flutters over my jaw. “This is me. I am fine. We are fine.”
Safe. Safe. Safe.
My eyes close. I’m supposed to be tending to her, not the other way around.
I feel her lips press to my shoulder. “Yes. We’re safe.”
We stand under the spray, the tempo of the shower and our synchronized breaths the only sounds, until Harriet removes herself and turns off the shower.
I’m at a loss about what to do next and simply watch her wrap a fluffy blue towel around her body. Concern etches across her face, and shame assaults me. She shouldn’t be worried yet thanks to the poor handle on my emotions, I’ve put it there.
She looks up at me, and water droplets cling to her lashes like dewdrops on blades of grass. I concentrate on her eyes as she works my sodden clothes from my body. I help her wrangle my jeans and boots free until I’m naked.
Maybe this isn’t real. I don’t feel in control of my body, and the idea of her caring for me is foreign.
It’s only when her melodic voice filters through the steam-filled room I realize this isn’t a dream. But it isn’t a nightmare either.
“There are clean clothes in the dryer. Why don’t you go get changed and make us both a bowl of cereal?”
“You’re hungry?” I should’ve asked her if she was hungry.
She smiles softly. “Always. I’ll be down soon.”
She senses the silent war raging inside me. “I’ll be okay for a few minutes. I promise.”
With no less than ten glances over my shoulder before I’m satisfied, the connection between my body and brain rewires. My limbs work robotically. I put on fresh clothes, start a fire, then wait on the sofa, a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios in each hand. One with milk, one without.
I’m not sure how much time passes before soft footsteps descend the wooden stairs, and she appears, fresh faced, hair damp, and smiling at me so brightly, it reduces the roaring fire to a measly flame.
A white linen shirt hangs loosely from her shoulders, and a pair of blue jersey shorts peek out from under the hem.
She’s forgone a bra, the gentle swell of her breasts and peaked nipples visible through the thin material and the last few buttons of the shirt are undone to reveal her baby bump.
She doesn’t say much, just thanks me for the cereal and starts eating. Her shoulder brushes mine each time she raises the spoon. The flames from the fire dance across her face, making her look ethereal.
“Eat. It’s getting soggy,” she instructs.
I do as she says, each bite flavorless and bland, but the longer we sit here, the quieter the voices get until they’re nothing but a hushed whisper.