Chapter 19 #2
“Yes, it is. And I know I don’t fucking deserve you. Not for a minute.” He presses his lips together, his expression anguished. A tear slips down his cheek, lit by the faint festival lights behind me. “But if I’d lost you, too, all because I couldn’t suck it up and do the most basic fucking thing—”
“Stop!” I plead, rushing to him. I take his face in my hands and force him to look at me. “Stop. Please. Just… God, stop.” Tears stream down my face, dripping off my jaw and onto my dress.
Dropping his forehead against mine, he closes his eyes.
“Breathe,” I whisper.
He doesn’t fight it, and the rigid lines of his body slowly soften against my tentative embrace.
I’m not sure how long we stand there in silence, just crying and holding each other.
“You’re wheezing,” Miles eventually says.
Instinctively, I clear my throat. “A bit, I guess.”
“We’re getting you checked out. Come on.” He grips tight to my hand as he leads me back to the subdued festival grounds and toward a pair of ambulances parked a safe distance from the fire.
I don’t fight him on it; God knows what kind of dodgy chemicals were in those plastic Halloween decorations, after all.
From here, the fire looks like it’s under control, but a small crew of firefighters are still working to put out any hot spots.
“Miles!” a voice booms from nearby. “Hey!”
Sitting in the back of the ambulance is a firefighter with his gear off and a blood pressure cuff around one arm. He’s big, built like Miles, and his shirt is soaked with sweat.
“Shit, Gus, you hurt or something?” Miles asks.
“Nah, just standard procedure. Gotta cool off and get cleared to go back in.” He pauses, scrutinizing his friend. “You good, buddy? Look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Not now, man.”
“Okay.” Gus watches Miles with concern for a moment, then turns to me. “You must be Caroline?”
“Mm-hmm.”
The EMT hands Gus a bottle of water before returning to check his vitals.
“And you’re Gus?” This isn’t exactly how I imagined meeting Miles’ best friend. “The one who famously sings to annoy Miles?” I flick my gaze to Miles, but he barely cracks a smile.
Gus chuckles. “My reputation precedes me.”
“Is… Is everyone…?” I half ask the question, throwing a pointed glance at the smoldering haunted house.
“Everyone got out safely.”
“Oh, thank God.” I exhale and fold my arms over my chest, hugging myself in the chilly night air. “Do you know how it started? I didn’t see anything when I was in there, and it…” I make a vague gesture, unable to find the words.
“You were inside?”
I nod.
Realization transforms Gus’ features and his eyes jump to Miles, something unspoken passing between them.
The EMT pipes up. “I heard it was some kid messing with fireworks. Thought it’d be funny to scare his friend and—”
“Wait. What kid?” Concern tinges Miles’ raspy voice. “I saw a kid waiting to go in and fucking around with a lighter. He was blond, I think? Kinda stocky. Skeleton T-shirt?”
“Uh, I didn’t see him but, apparently, the fool lit the thing, then tried to chuck it out the window. But he missed and it got caught in the curtains.”
“Shit,” Miles says quietly, almost to himself.
“The curtains…” I say, remembering how they’d gone up in flames almost instantly. “It happened so fast.”
“Yeah. You good?” Gus asks. “Any trouble breathing? They’ll check you out over there.” He tilts his head toward the second ambulance.
“I dunno, I—”
Miles cuts me off. “You’re getting checked out.”
“Better safe than sorry,” the EMT says as he takes Gus’ temperature and pulls off the blood pressure cuff. “Go for it. Doesn’t take long.”
“Okay.”
“And hey, nice to meet you,” Gus adds. “I mean, minus the shitty circumstances.” When I give him a small smile, he returns it and lifts his chin. “Take care of my guy, alright?”
“Yes. Will do.” I squeeze Miles’ hand, still more worried about him than myself.
“Catch you tomorrow, buddy.” Gus stands and heads off, presumably to gear up and get back to work.
It doesn’t take long for the EMT at the next ambulance to check me over and declare me fit to avoid a hospital visit. She passes me a bottle of water and sends me on my way.
Miles paces nearby.
I take a drink as I walk over to him, then pass him the water bottle. “Here.”
“Thanks.” He takes a swig and swishes it in his mouth before spitting into the dirt, then has a proper drink. “I should’ve said something.” Miles frowns at his feet. “About the kid.”
“No,” I say, grabbing his face to make him look at me. “Not everyone in possession of a lighter is a safety risk. This isn’t on you, either.”
Why is he so hard on himself?
His voice is hoarse when he finally speaks. “Can we just go? I wanna take you home.” He sounds so tired.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“And I wanna stay with you tonight.” It’s not a question.
I nod, pulling him closer, and lean in to kiss his cheek. As I draw back, I slide my palms down his chest, wishing I could erase everything that hurts his heart—knowing that wishing isn’t enough. I peer up at him. “Come to my place? I’ll draw us a bath.”
He gives me an intrigued look, a glimmer of the Miles I know cutting through his still-pained expression. “Bubble bath?”
“Yeah, if you want.” I circle my arms around his waist. “Anything you want.”
“Anything?” He tucks a stray curl behind my ear.
I nod. “Anything you want from me. Anytime.”
He closes his eyes and slips his hands to the sides of my neck, pressing his forehead to mine. “Baby, you can’t say shit like that to an addict.”
I gently kiss his cheek again, letting my lips linger on his skin. It’s an apology. A promise. A plea.