Chapter 18
Wyatt
Sucking in a deep breath, I arch my back, feeling a decent crack as I stretch out my legs. Letting the air out of my lungs, I curl my arm tighter around the little temptation curled up beside me.
Bryn lets out a soft sigh but doesn’t stir further than that.
Sleep pulled us both under after a long make out session where I had her coming on my fingers again, and then on my face.
A smile tugs at my lips at the memory, and I have half a mind to wake her to repeat it all.
She still lingers on my tongue, even now, and I lick my lips, wanting nothing more than to have a fresh meal.
The thought has my eyes cracking, drifting to look at the clock on Bryn’s microwave in the kitchen.
3:07AM.
I can see it from our place on her couch, the open concept living room and kitchen making it easy. It’s dark besides the light from the clock and the soft glow of the TV that has a repeating video of horses galloping through fields and forest as a screensaver.
A diesel truck running idle nearby has me trying to clear the sleep from my eyes, making me realize that the red in the room isn’t from the TV.
One of the living room windows, the one with a few plants hanging near it, must face the street.
Physically spent after the evening, I don’t understand why there’s a red strobe light that wasn’t there when we fell asleep a couple hours ago.
A door shuts outside, then a second, and finally a third. Voices have me perking up a bit more, and I rub a hand over my face. That’s when it dawns on me what the lights are.
Firetruck.
Some firefighter I am.
Despite not wanting to leave the warm body at my side, curiosity has me sliding out from beside her to look out the window. Like Bryn’s nosy neighbor who always seems to watch when we pull in the driveway.
I catch sight of them just as they disappear from my view. The bushes prevent me from seeing a lot between the fencing pickets, but they’ve all definitely crossed the lawn and are headed to the house.
“I’m cold,” a mumble comes from the couch, and I glance over to find Bryn pulling the blanket up higher around her neck. “Come back.”
“I think there’s something going on at your landlord’s,” I tell her, glancing back out the window. The firefighters have disappeared from my sight.
“What?”
The screech in her voice has me spinning in time to see her bolt upright. A quarter of a second later she’s flying off the couch, and before I know what’s happening, she’s racing towards the front door.
“No, no, no,” she cries out as she goes.
“Bryn!”
Taking off after her, both of us in only our underwear, I get to her just as she reaches her front door. My arms circle around her before she gets it open, but the second I’ve got her locked down, she’s fighting me.
“Let me go!” she screams.
“Bryn!”
“Get off of me!”
She’s kicking, twisting, and throwing her fists, reminding me of a spooked bucking horse. My heart feels like it’s lodged in my throat, not understanding her panic, but knowing I can’t let her go running out there without anything on.
My arms tighten until she can only squirm, and I press her between the back of her couch and my body. My lips are at her ear, my training kicking in to stay as neutral and calm as I can. “You are naked. You need to put something on, okay?
“I don’t care,” she wails, but some of the fight has left her. “I need to make sure she’s okay. Please, please let me go. Wyatt, please.”
Her fear hits me like a ton of bricks, my heart breaking at the cracking in her voice. I tamp it down, my need to protect her overriding everything. “Your dress is right here. Let me help you put it on. Okay?”
“Please,” she begs, but nods along with the word.
Not sure I’ve ever helped a female get dressed, but I’d guarantee this is the fastest I’ll ever do it.
It takes me thirty seconds to get her dress over her head and her arms through the straps, and then she’s taking off out the door.
I’m not far behind her. Thankfully, my clothes are on the floor in the living room as well, and I pull on my jeans, racing out of the guest house after her, fumbling with my t-shirt as I go.
Bryn is nowhere to be found, but I can hear her voice coming from an open doorway at the side of the main house, panic-stricken. Asking what happened. Calling for… Gran.
Oh, fuck.
I go through a small mudroom that opens into a spacious kitchen full of white cabinets and granite countertops.
My eyes pick up a kitchen table for four, and stainless-steel appliances, but focus on the man preventing Bryn from getting any closer to the island, and what must be on the other side of it where voices talk back and forth.
“Bryn, you can’t be over there,” he says.
Surprise almost has me stumbling backward. Brody is holding her by the arms. That’s when I realize two things: Bryn’s place is in our district, and Brody is still on shift after taking a mandatory OT shift from me so I could enjoy Fourth of July.
He doesn’t look as surprised as I feel when he glances over her shoulder and finds me moving through the room. After a few shifts of working alongside the guy, his eyes convey everything to me without saying the words aloud.
Deal with her.
“I need to see her,” she says forcefully, trying to yank out of his grip, tears streaking down her cheek.
“Bryn,” I say as calmly as I can from her side, touching her forearm so I don’t startle her.
She flinches anyway, whirling towards me. “I need to see her!”
“I know, and you will, but Brody needs some information first,” I explain, trying to slip into work mode.
The complete and utter devastation in her eyes prevents it.
The largest tears I’ve ever witnessed are pooled there and streaking down her cheeks, crushing my soul.
All I want to do is scoop her into my arms and promise that everything will work out perfectly.
I want to shout to whoever might listen that I’ll sacrifice anything to make sure that she’s okay in every possible way.
Want to beg some higher power to heal the hell she’s currently in.
“I need her to be okay,” she whispers.
“I know, baby.” Then I pull her into me, wrapping my arms around her. “I know.”
A second later, two paramedics walk through the door, and keeping Bryn close to me, I move her out of the way.
Further from the island, giving them space to work.
There’s a flurry of activity, even more now that the paramedics are here, but my focus has mostly been on Bryn.
Now that I’ve had a few moments to take everything in, I recognize everyone from shift change, but it’s Brody who stays close to us, his eyes meeting mine over Bryn’s head.
He needs information.
“Does Gran have any medical conditions?” I ask, pulling back some of her hair from her face. She’s got it turned towards Brody, and he gives me a nod of thanks.
“No,” she whispers. “No, she’s healthy.”
Despite the answer, I have to ask, “Is she on any medications?”
There’s a sniffle against my chest, but she shakes her head. “None.”
“Any surgeries we should know about? Heart-related things? Strokes?”
Bryn’s head moves back and forth. “Nothing. She… she has allergies. Springtime when all the pollen gets to her. Besides that, nothing.”
“Do you know if she took anything today, Bryn?” Brody asks.
She lifts her head, and the agony in her voice ricochets in my chest. “I haven’t been here. I haven’t seen her.”
His jaw works, like he’s fighting to keep his composure. Things are always tougher when you know the patient and their family. “Anything like this ever happen before?”
“I don’t know what happened!” she explodes, pushing away from me, thrusting her hands in her hair. “So, I don’t know!”
There’s a quiet moment between the three of us, and I can feel Brody’s eyes bouncing between Bryn and me.
I have this sense that if I were to touch her right now, she’d try to throw me off like when I grabbed her earlier.
Scared and panicked, her eyes a little wild, her chest heaving with short, shallow breaths.
In the quiet of our bubble, a voice from the other side of the island says, “There she is. Hi Ruby.”
“Gran!” Bryn lunges forward, but Brody steps in front of her, and she sneers at him. “Get out of my way.”
“No.”
I try, “Bryn—”
“Move!”
He sees it before I do. She lifts both hands to push him, but he catches her wrists and leans down to get in her face. “You do not want to see what’s on the other side of that counter. You do not want to see her like that.”
I’m caught between wanting to punch him in the face for grabbing her like that, even though it was only in defense of himself, and wanting to wrap her back in my arms when I watch her face transform.
Bryn fractures in front of me. The crease in her forehead smooths, the clench of her jaw relaxes, and a lone tear slides down her cheek.
Her anger morphs into defeat and devastation.
“Let her go,” I say quietly, leaving no room for debate.
His eyes flick to me, and I give him a short nod, accepting responsibility for however she reacts. Brody’s jaw clenches, unhappy with me, but he does as I tell him.
Eyes round with fear and shock, Bryn looks to me, and I take her hand, lacing our fingers together before bringing her around the other side of the island where she’ll be out of the way but able to see.
Because I realize she needs this. For whatever reason, and however it might hurt, I instinctively know that she needs to see her Gran right this second. And whatever the fallout of it, I’ll be there to catch her.
And I do need to catch her.