Chapter 39
Knox
This game of phone tag is fucking killing me. It’s been a busy night, and I can’t afford to be as distracted as I am, trying to get in touch with Taylor for the fifth or sixth time. Hell, I’m losing count.
His message asked me not to give up on him.
Give up on him? Is he crazy?
I’m fucking crawling out of my skin from wanting to hold him so badly.
Before I can call him again, the alarm goes off in the station, making me jump. It’s not really a sound you get used to.
I throw my phone in my locker and race toward the door of the truck bay. I quickly slide into my pants and boots, grab my jacket, and climb aboard Engine Four for the third time this shift.
Dispatch rings out overhead, alerting us to a priority one P.I.C.
, meaning there’s been a motor vehicle accident with a critical, potentially life-threatening injury.
I’m not all that surprised with as much rain as we’ve gotten recently.
The roads are slick as shit, keeping us busier than usual tonight.
Even Paul is being extra cautious as we make our way toward the scene.
“Multiple cars involved, minor injuries to occupants of three of the four vehicles,” dispatch continues, relaying information while we drive with our sirens blaring.
“The occupant of the fourth car is inaccessible. Bystanders report the car is upside down and significantly crushed. There’s a leak, unable to determine if gas, oil, or other substance at this time.
Rescue squad has been dispatched to the scene as well. ”
“Roger that,” Scottie says into the radio before replacing it on the dash. He’s our captain, and we’ll take our orders from him. Because I’m the volunteer, I’m low man on the totem pole, and my job is to take the orders called out to me.
It takes eight minutes to arrive on the scene, and it’s total chaos.
I’m familiar with the road because it’s the circular exit ramp off the highway I take to get to my house.
If taken even five miles too fast on these slippery roads, it could result in disaster…
as is the case today. As soon as the truck is parked, we climb out, immediately getting to work.
The police beat us here, so one of their guys jogs over to us, telling us what we need to know about the leak—it’s windshield washer fluid, no need to evac aggressively.
In the span of twenty seconds, I’ve assessed the new information, spotted the first three cars and their drivers, and my eyes finally land on the fourth car. It’s so crushed you can’t tell what it is, but Paul, Scottie, Ryan, and I haul ass to help whoever is trapped in there.
It doesn’t look good.
As I approach the driver’s side, Scottie is already shouting for the Jaws of Life. It’s very clear that the only way we stand a chance at extraction is by taking the door off.
The door that was once powder blue…no.
On what I now recognize as a BMW…no, no, no.
“We need to get him out, NOW!” I yell at the top of my lungs, not giving two shits about who’s in charge. These guys are professionals. They’re quick, safe, and rational, and as much as I’m trying to hold on to my training, I feel my mind slipping into shock faster than my body.
I fall to my knees next to the door and start yelling Taylor’s name.
He’s almost completely unrecognizable, but I know without a doubt it’s him. There’s blood on his swollen face and in his hair, his left arm is lying at the wrong angle, and it’ll be a fucking miracle if his neck isn’t broken.
I lean over and vomit right onto the soaked pavement.
“Whoa there, Knoxy. I know this one’s rough, but we’ve seen worse. You feeling okay?” Paul asks, coming to stand next to me as he hoists the cutter to the car frame and starts working the door off.
“Please,” I beg. “Get him out.” Turning back to the window, I practically choke on a sob with the taste of bile still in my mouth. “Hold on, baby. I love you. We’re gonna get you out of there.”
Taylor’s window is shattered, but hasn’t fallen out of the frame, so I can’t reach through to check for a pulse, and it feels like I’m the one dying.
“Shit, Knox. You know the victim?” Before I can answer, Paul yells over my head. “Hey, someone get Knox outta here. He knows the guy in the car!”
“I’m not going anywhere!” I yell back, finally getting my head in the game.
I’ve wasted too much fucking time already.
“Focus on getting this goddamn door off!” Turning to the sound of approaching footsteps, I rip the other set of cutters from Scottie’s hands.
The adrenaline now coursing through me has me making two cuts to every one Paul makes.
As soon as the door is separated from the frame, I rip it away from the vehicle and lie flat on my stomach, checking for a pulse while Paul drops to the ground and wedges the separator under the dashboard, trying to create enough space to get Taylor’s legs out from underneath it.
“Taylor, baby. It’s me. You’re going to be just fine. Just hold on, okay?” I keep talking to him in the event of some miracle that he comes to, but the harsh reality is that there’s a high probability I’m talking to his corpse.
“Collar!” I yell behind me. Ryan places the neck stabilizer over my shoulder, and I secure it as carefully as possible around Tay’s neck.
By the time I have the collar in place, Paul has managed to create about ten inches of space under the dash, and I thank God that Tay’s as small as he is.
Next to us, EMTs are waiting with a gurney. It’s flat on the ground to make the transfer as easy as possible.
“Ryan, pump the lift, but just about six inches,” Paul orders.
Ryan wastes no time in executing the order with the hydraulic lift.
If we raise Tay’s car too much, we risk him falling or changing the angle so much that we cause him further harm, but if the lift can push his car upright just a little, we’ll have more leverage to pull him out safely.
“I’ve got his head,” I tell the guys, because fuck all if I’m going to trust the most important person in my life to them, regardless of their commitment to this career.
“Knox, are you sure—”
“We don’t have time to argue. Help me get him out of here.”
We pull Taylor from the mangled vehicle at a torturously slow pace.
His face is a mess from the airbag and possibly a collision with the steering wheel when he rolled.
His chest isn’t rising, and I don’t hear any breath sounds, but I’m choosing to believe he’s simply unconscious.
And I’m thankful for that because he’ll be in a fuck-ton of pain when he wakes up.
We almost have him out when Paul stops.
“What are you doing? Let’s go!”
“His leg is caught on something. Scottie, use those other spreaders to widen this space,” he commands, and Scottie springs into action.
“Aw, shit. Scottie, stop,” Paul says a second later, his body blocking my view.
“What is it?” I demand.
“The brake pedal broke his shin and is caught on his tibia, where it’s sticking through the skin. If we raise that dash any more, that bone will snap again, and it’s likely they won’t be able to repair it.”
I appreciate that Paul’s using language indicating Taylor’s still alive.
“I’ve got it,” a small EMT says, wedging herself behind Paul, under the dashboard. Her gloved hands work fast, and when she resurfaces, they, like mine, are covered in Taylor’s blood. “Okay, try it now.”
We manage to get him out the rest of the way and lay him on the stretcher.
His perfect lips are blue, reminding me of his jet skiing injury, and I’m so fucking tired of seeing him injured.
I want to kiss him so badly, to breathe life into him, but the EMTs are edging me out of the way.
I allow it because Taylor needs them more than he needs me right now.
An officer comes to stand next to me as I watch the EMTs check for Taylor’s vitals before panicking that they can’t find any.
“Someone said you know that kid? I’ll need to alert his family. What can you tell me?”
“He’s not a kid,” I hear myself say in a robotic voice as I watch in horror while they place an AMBU bag over Tay’s face and start manually pumping air into his lungs. “His name is Taylor Landry. He’s twenty-four. His parents live on South Reynard Ave.”
Once the EMTs have him loaded in the ambulance, I leave the officer with my number and climb into the back with him before they close the doors.
The medical personnel eye me curiously.
“I’m not getting out of this ambulance until we’re at the hospital, so don’t waste time by saying stupid shit and reading me the rules. Just save his life.”
As soon as we arrive at the hospital, they rush Taylor to surgery. His pulse was so faint it took the machine to detect it, and he still wasn’t breathing on his own. They said it was most likely because of punctured or collapsed lungs.
His chances are slim.
I’m sitting in the waiting area outside the OR.
Because I still have my fire pants, jacket, suspenders, and Engine 286 T-shirt on, the nurses provide me with updates and allow me to stay.
Perk of being a first responder. They think I’m invested because I pulled him from the wreck…
and I don’t correct them. Especially because eventually his parents will show up, and I know Taylor hasn’t told them about our relationship.
Tay’s only been in surgery for fifteen minutes when I spot Livvy coming down the hall with her parents behind her.
I’m unsure how to play this, and I’m too emotionally drained to give it much thought. Thankfully, I don’t have to when Livvy runs to me and throws her arms around my neck, sobbing.
“Please tell me he’s going to be alright,” she cries.
I squeeze her to me, thankful to have someone close to Taylor in my arms. Someone who knows what he means to me.
“He’s a fighter, Liv. He’s going to pull through,” I say, even though I have no idea.
“He was on his way to see you,” she tells me.
That hits like a thunderous punch to my gut. Once I realized it was Taylor in that car, I had completely forgotten where we were…the exit to my house.
“How’d they know to call you?” she asks.
“They didn’t. I, uh, I was on call at the fire station.” My attempt at a deep breath fails as my voice cracks for the last part. “I pulled him from the wreck.”
She finally assesses my outfit and lets out a gasp. “Ohmygod. I know it’s selfish of me and probably hella traumatic for you, but I’m really glad you were there with him.”
“I’ll be here until he walks out of this hospital,” I reply with full conviction.
“He was a mess,” she continues. “He called me as soon as he landed. He felt terrible for leaving you the way he did. I agreed that he should go to your house. He wanted to surprise you,” she wails, still clinging to me.
Cupping her face, I try to calm her hysteria despite feeling my own welling inside me.
“Livvy, this isn’t your fault.”
“How bad is it?” she asks through sniffles.
I don’t believe in giving families false hope. So, I don’t.
“It’s bad. Even if he pulls through, he has a long road ahead of him.”
“Mr. Bennett?” The sound of Taylor’s mom’s voice makes me pull back from Livvy, but Liv continues clutching my arm. Her presence is welcome by my side despite her earlier reservations about her brother and me.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Landry.” I nod. “I’m sorry to see you under these circumstances.”
“But what are you doing here?” Mr. Landry asks.
I rub a hand across the back of my neck.
“Along with my contracting business, I’m also a volunteer firefighter, sir.
My unit got the call about Tay’s…um, Taylor’s accident.
” I swallow hard to dislodge the lump in my throat threatening to cut off my air supply as I wait for their response.
I wish I could tell them what Taylor means to me, but I don’t want to out our relationship until he’s ready.
He’s had his reasons for not telling them yet, and I’ve learned my lesson and will never speak for him again without his permission.
But Livvy doesn’t feel the same way. She squeezes my hand, and I’m grateful for her reassurance…and then she opens her mouth.
“Mom, Dad, Knox is also Taylor’s boyfriend. They started seeing each other a few months ago when Tay knocked himself out by wrecking his jet ski while you were gone on that vacation. Knox took care of him.”
“Livvy,” I groan, scrubbing a hand down my face. “That should have come from me.”
“No,” she argues. “That should have come from Tay…like, two months ago.”
“He wasn’t ready,” I choke out, unable to meet his parents’ gaze.
“Well, he just ran out of time to be ready. You think you’re going to be able to hide how you feel as soon as you see him? You get all twitchy when you’re not touching him, and your eyes never leave him when you’re in the same room. You think they weren’t going to notice something’s up?”
Blowing out a breath, I face my boyfriend’s parents.
“Mr. and Mrs. Landry, I never intended for this to happen, but Taylor is…” I trail off, not knowing how to finish, so his father does it for me.
“Taylor is Taylor. Why don’t we get settled? Looks like we’ll be here a while. We can discuss this once we know our son is going to pull through.”
I nod while thinking to myself and if he doesn’t, they might as well bury me right alongside him.