Chapter Twenty Lila #2
How did we end up hiring Jake? From what I can recall, Lou said that the guys we’ve used on some smaller projects before were booked until after Christmas, but we had another response on the site we use to connect with freelancers.
He and his assistant worked for cheaper than we could ever hope, and they seemed incredibly enthusiastic about the campaign.
“Maybe they suck,” I remember Lou suggesting. “Because they’re way too cheap and way too eager to work with us.”
“Or maybe they’re just like us and still trying to get their feet on stable ground,” I’d argued.
I’d refused to believe it was too good to be true. Too cheap and too excited didn’t seem like bad qualities to me at the time.
But now… it seems my eternal optimism has led a mole directly into my inner sanctum. Who knows what he’s been filming when I haven’t been paying attention? Who knows what footage, what information, he’s been feeding to Barry this entire time?
A surge of fury flares in my chest, and I take a step toward Jake. But the media crowd is dense, and I don’t make it far before a snarly journalist nudges me back with their elbow.
And then, as I’m turning back toward Ashley, my eyes flit across the fiery scene and snag on something that makes everything else inside my head go quiet.
Through the smoke comes two hulking shapes.
No… three.
A tall figure, with a natural broadness that is obvious even through his heavy gear, emerges from what now looks like the gates of hell. Someone slightly taller and leaner is draped across his shoulders like a sack of flour, all dead weight and motionless bulk.
The third figure is the smallest, a thin young woman dressed in a tattered, ash-coated catering uniform. She clings to the first figure with her arms around his waist, using him as support as she drags herself out of the smoke.
The world goes silent save for a high-pitched ringing in my ears and the dull thud of my heartbeat.
My vision narrows to that trio. To the paramedic with golden skin and a 47 badge on his arm that sprints toward them.
A second EMT, closer to them, grabs the woman the moment her grip loosens on her savior, but I barely register her being hauled away.
Then the smoke parts, and my blood turns to ice.
Noah staggers out first, Hale draped over his shoulders.
Hale isn’t moving.
Noah gets three more steps, then drops to his knees like his body finally gives up.Evan is still running toward them, uncomfortably close to the fire for someone not wearing any gear.
And I start running, too.
My body moves on instinct, slipping past a journalist and ducking underneath the caution tape.
An officer shouts something I ignore, fingertips clawing at my sleeve but not fast enough to catch me.
As an afterthought, I manage to think clearly enough to dodge shards of broken glass that would most certainly puncture the thin soles of my flats, but that is the only logic in my head as I rush toward my three heroes.
Noah is shaking violently as he yanks off his helmet, revealing sweat-soaked skin and flushed cheeks.
He collapses forward onto all fours, choking down air that’s still fairly thick with smoke.
Evan reaches him first, but the second his hands touch Noah, he’s shaken off and practically shoved toward Hale.
Hale, who was dragged from the rubble like a doll. A corpse.
I only vaguely register the fact that I’ve started sobbing.
Something wet spills down my cheek as tears cloud my vision, but even when a firefighter from another station lunges toward me to stop me in my tracks, I’m able to sidestep and stumble toward the only three people in the world who matter to me right now.
“Noah!” I scream. “Hale!”
Evan is the first to look up, kneeling over Hale with a medical supply bag already torn open beside him. He shouts something at me, but Hale is his priority for the moment.
At last, I make it to them, skidding over loose gravel and accidentally knocking Noah’s helmet several feet away. Falling to the ground beside him, I reach for him and push back the hair from his forehead.
“Are you okay? Noah? Are you—”
Noah’s answer comes in the form of a wheezing cough. Then, a hoarse, “Lila, what the hell…”
“Help me support his fucking neck, Noah,” snaps Evan behind him.
Noah jolts into action, half-crawling as he turns around to help Evan remove Hale’s helmet.
I let out a fresh sob as Hale’s unconscious, oddly peaceful face is revealed.
“Cap? Are you with me?” Evan asks, unraveling something that looks like an oxygen mask. It’s only then that I realize how darkly scorched the entire left side of Hale’s uniform is.
“Dove right into the blaze to help that woman. Think he got hit with something from the blast,” Noah explains to Evan, nodding his head in the general direction of the civilian that had clung to his waist on the way out.
Then, when I start coughing through a smoky sob, he sighs and says, “Lila, gorgeous, you can’t be here. ”
“Hale,” is all I manage.
And maybe it’s because I’m being incredibly pathetic, but Noah lets me crawl past him so that I can kneel by Hale’s head.
His dark hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat, and even though Evan is protesting my intervention—more fiercely than I’ve heard him speak before—I can’t stop myself from pushing back Hale’s hair and running my fingers across the top of his head.
A low groan rumbles from his throat.
“Hale?” I gasp. “Hale, are you awake? Can you hear me?”
“Fuck, I’m going to be sick,” mumbles Noah. He disappears from my side in a series of clumsy movements, and then I hear retching directly behind me.
Then, eerie silence.
“Christ, he fainted,” mutters Evan, ripping open the front of Hale’s jacket even as he tosses a glance in Noah’s direction.
Over my shoulder, I watch as two medics descend upon Noah’s unconscious form.
And then more are landing upon Hale, speaking in brusque tones and using words I don’t understand.
It’s only when Evan has tugged away enough of Hale’s gear to lift his shirt that I see the problem.There’s a nasty bruise darkening the center of his torso, spreading down toward his left ribcage. It’s horrifying to behold, almost red in the firelight, and it looks like it goes bone deep.
One of the EMTs tries to pull me away. I bark something at him and yank my arm out of his grasp.
“Hale!” I shout. I swear I see his eyes flutter, but someone has grabbed me again and is holding me far enough back that I can’t get close anymore. I fight against the stranger’s hold, ignoring their surprised curses as they’re forced to tighten their grip on me.
All I can do is watch as Evan gently tests the tender skin around Hale’s ribs. My mind runs ahead of itself, reviewing every spare bit of anatomical information I’ve ever absorbed. The heart is on the left side of the body, but what’s down there on the right? Critical organs?
I can barely hear, barely think. I’m vaguely aware that I probably look and sound like a madwoman, sobbing and shrieking in protest as I’m physically prevented from returning to Hale’s side.
All I can do is watch from beyond the barrier of the paramedics’ organized circle as they fuss over the captain’s body.
“Honey, you’ve got to stop fighting me,” grunts the person holding me back. “You’re going to hurt yourself. And me, probably.”
Only then do I realize who it is—Rita.
I quickly rein in the urge to start kicking, but even when I become still, Rita doesn’t let go.
“He’ll be fine,” Rita whispers in my ear. “See his chest rising and falling? Breathing’s a good sign, sweetheart.”
Another EMT, this one unfamiliar and clearly from another station, rises to his feet and glances over at Rita, then flicks his gaze to me.
“That his wife?” he asks.
I gasp past a sob. Is that really what I look like right now? A horrified spouse sobbing uncontrollably over her lover’s unmoving body?
With a trembling inhale, I try to get ahold of myself, but my muscles are seizing with panic and I can’t seem to choke down a full breath. I don’t even hear what Rita replies to the EMT.
“Look, Lila,” Rita murmurs to me a moment later. “Look, they have the fire under control. Everything’s going to be okay. We’re past the worst of it.”
She dares to release me enough to point up at the building.
It’s a horrible thing to behold, all blackened and smoldering, smoke still billowing up into the evening sky, but I can tell through the haze of steam and my own tears that the squads of united firefighters have, indeed, managed to gain control of the situation.
But someone died tonight. And enough are critically injured that more might still follow. I can’t bring myself to believe that we’re in the clear.
Especially not while Hale remains unconscious on the ground. Evan is in the thick of it, and I have no idea how much time has passed. It could have been seconds or minutes since I tripped to a stop beside them.
And that’s when I hear it.
“—internal bleeding,” the paramedic kneeling opposite Evan is saying.
Evan nods, his face grim.
An EMT immediately barks into the radio on his shoulder, “We need hospital transport.”
“What?” I gasp. “He…? Hale! Hale!”
It all happens in a blur. A stretcher is brought over. Hale, lifeless and bruised, is carefully maneuvered onto it. Evan is the one who supports his captain’s neck, lips pressed into a thin line.
Then they start wheeling Hale away from me, right into the back of an ambulance.
I’m pretty sure I’ve started screaming again.
“Reyes!” Rita shouts.
Evan twists, gaze locking with mine from several yards away as he knocks on the side of the ambulance, and then he’s running back over. Rita lets go of me, sensing my trajectory ahead of time as I rush into his arms.
Evan’s hand cups the back of my neck like he can physically hold me together, and my body recognizes him before my mind does.
He pulls me close against him. Held tight to his steady, strong body, I become keenly aware of how hard I’m shaking. My teeth are chattering and each breath stutters like an arrhythmic heart on the way in and out.
“Lila, baby,” he whispers, cradling the back of my head as I sob into his chest. “Lila, he’s okay. Just a couple of broken ribs from what I can tell, but we had to send him off for a scan just to make sure nothing has been punctured.”
“He—he—I—”
I can’t speak. It’s like my entire body has betrayed me, twitching and trembling of its own accord.
“Baby, you need to be calm for me,” Evan murmurs, slowly stepping me away from the worst of the scene. “You’re having a panic attack.”
Panic attack? That can’t be right. I don’t have an anxiety disorder.
I try to tell him as much, but all that comes out is, “He—I—I can’t—”
“Hale is going to be okay,” he assures me again. “And look over there, love. Noah is okay now, too.”
I twist my face just enough to catch a glimpse of Noah, crouched on the edge of the sidewalk across the street, being fussed over by Sandy and Mick.
“I know it’s scary,” Evan whispers. “But this is our job.”
I know he’s right. Deep down, I know Hale will be probably be okay. I know Noah is also going to be fine. I know this is their job and most definitely not even the worst emergency any of them have responded to in their careers.
But Evan is right about something else, too. It’s scary. I’m terrified.
So fucking terrified that I was about to witness Hale’s death. That Noah would most certainly be following suit. That Evan, who doesn’t gear up and run into the inferno, might find himself in danger if another explosion occurred.
I don’t want to lose any of them. I couldn’t bear it.
And what about the long-term effects of this career?
Noah already seems like he’s developing asthma, and how many more beatings can Hale’s body take before he starts deteriorating?
How many more tragedies can Evan witness, how many more injuries can he sew back up, before the weight of all that misfortune starts to drag him down?
They’re okay tonight, but how am I supposed to move on from this chapter of my life knowing that my heroes might not be okay another night down the road?
And, moreover, how am I supposed to not love them?
How am I supposed to stop myself from caring about the Station 47’s captain, who leads with a cold firmness that disguises a gentle heart underneath?
How am I supposed to ignore the affection I have for the golden boy who doesn’t even think twice about sacrificing himself for the greater good?
And how am I supposed to let go of the way my heart calls out to the sweet, softspoken healer currently holding me together by sheer force of will alone?
I can’t live without any of them.
Unfortunately, now is really not the best time for me to be having that revelation.
“Lila, please,” Evan is murmuring, rubbing my back with brisk motions as if trying to warm me up. I am definitely shaking as if I’m freezing cold, though. “Can you breathe with me? Inhale when I inhale, okay? And then exhale nice and slow with me, alright?”
I try to follow his instructions, clinging to him with aching fingers, but I can’t manage it. My lungs won’t obey, and the smoke doesn’t help.
“Okay, come on,” he continues gently, guiding me closer to the edge of the park. “Let’s get you out of here. I don’t live far.”
“But—but, you—you—”
He understands my protest. “They don’t need me anymore. It’s under control. If anything, we’ve become a bit overstaffed in the last couple of minutes.”
So, I let him lead me away. We step around another police barrier, now on the opposite end of the scene from the media crowd. But I don’t bother looking back to see if Jake and Sam are still there, or if any of the melodrama I’ve caused has been caught on tape.
All I can do is hold on to Evan as he leads me down a relatively quiet side street and guides me toward his home. Little by little, the panic trickles away.
When three more blocks separate us from the scene, the shaking and hyperventilating subsides enough for me to choke out, “You live… on the… Upper West Side?”
“I do,” Evan answers, squeezing my shoulder.
“You’re rich?”
A soft chuckle. “Rent-controlled apartment. Inherited it from my abuelo.”
“Oh. Lucky.”
“I am lucky in a lot of things,” he muses, his voice taking on a thoughtful tone. “Lucky to have Leo. Lucky to work with brave people like Hale and Noah. Lucky to have met you.”
My vision keeps trying to tunnel, like the night is narrowing around us.
I think I’m lucky, too, I mean to say, but my head starts swimming and my body sways oddly even with his arm wrapped around my waist.
Evan breathes out a curse when I start going down, then sweeps me up into his arms. His weightless embrace is the last thing I’m aware of before everything goes black.