34. Cal
Cal
“ M aybe we’ll finally get to stop for lu—” Jackson’s comment is cut off by the annoying sound of tones dropping for the umpteenth million time. We’ve barely gotten back to the station from the last call. Kate and Leo have also been on the road all day; we’ve only seen each other in passing.
“I guess we’re paying for that quiet shift.”
“Hey, Maggie.”
I make the turn as he drops his phone and sends it to speaker, struggling to get his seat belt fastened. I call back to 911 that we are responding.
“Oh my god. Jax.”
She’s cut off by the disembodied voice of dispatch confirming the address and cross street. “Respond to the area of 16 Main Street, Unit A. ”
My heart plummets.
“Fuck. That’s my address.” Well, not technically. Mine is Unit C. The coffee shop is…
“Caller states visible smoke. Possible entrapment.”
I hit the main road, faster than I’ve ever driven the engine, pushing the limits of the apparatus and my ability to maintain control.
“Maggie? Mags,” Jackson yells into the phone.
My world tunnels to the road before me as we race to town. God help anyone who fails to yield the right of way to me right now. I will run over them.
As we make the turn onto Main, there’s a flash of fire midway down the street, and flames billow out the front window. Pedestrians run from the fire, some down the sidewalk, some cross the street. And Maggie stands smack in the middle of the street like either of us would need a signpost.
Jackson breathes a sigh. “Thank fuck.”
The brakes screech as I pull to a stop on scene.
“Radio us on scene,” I bark, jumping down from the engine, desperately seeking the faces of my favorite three people on earth.
A police cruiser comes screaming in from the other end of Main, sirens echoing off the buildings. Two more quickly following suit.
The first officer climbs out of his unit, hands out as if to stop me. “Hold up, we’ve got a report of shots fired.”
Oh god.
My heart skips a beat as I’m momentarily thrown back in time to another fire with an active shooter.
“Cal!” Dani’s voice cuts over the noise of the scene. Over my shoulder, I spot her racing toward me, arms full of a crying two-year-old and tears streaming down her face .
I know what she’s going to say before she utters another sound, and the world tilts on its axis.
A flash of another woman trying to make it out of a fire singes my thoughts.
Fuck that . I am not losing her today.
“Jules,” Dani sobs from halfway across the street. “Ritchie.”
I grab the side of my pickax from the compartment and tug my air mask on. Jackson has the infrared camera out and aimed at Jules’s shop—hell, at this point, it’s my shop too. And it means nothing without her.
“Two bodies, approximately five feet from the door. Looks like the fire’s only on this front wall. Go, I’m on water.”
I glance at the camera screen as I turn on my breathing apparatus. Two bright spots of orange light up the screen, one partially covering the other.
Seconds later, I’m breaching the door and barreling into the shop. Flames lick up the front window, but the rest of the shop is untouched. There’s a pile of burning material where the curtains should be.
My gaze darts over the interior. Visibility is low, but I can make out the prone shapes on the floor. Jules is on her back. Ritchie covers her, face down. “Victims located,” I speak into the mic through a tight throat.
Behind me, a blast of water hits the front window. Jackson providing me with coverage.
Four strides, and I slide to my knees next to them. The radio at my shoulder squawks. “Medic five on scene.”
I roll the asshole off of her, and my heart fucking stops. There’s blood on her shirt, her face a battered mess. “Jesus.”
I don’t even stop to call it in. I haul her lifeless body into my chest. The cacophony of the scene falls away as I lift her. The world narrows to this moment, to her. My breath rattles through my air mask as I race out of the building with my lover in my arms.
Kate and Leo meet me on the sidewalk with a gurney.
“Go. We’ve got her,” Leo commands.
Fuck that.
I rip my BA off, dropping my helmet to the ground and ripping my gloves off. I search for a pulse, desperate for confirmation that she’s injured but okay.
There’s the slightest flutter, but it’s there.
Breath whooshes from my lungs, and my knees buckle.
“Whoa there, big guy.” Kate’s at my side, lifting my arm around her shoulders. “Come on, Johnson. Get your shit together,” she says, pushing me back onto my feet. Her hand pats my chest as she meets my gaze. “Go do your job, and trust us to do ours.”
I swallow the bile that threatens and take a step back. The rest of the scene comes back into sharp focus, the sounds rushing in with a force. A second medic unit has arrived, along with my lieutenant.
Jackson emerges from the smoke with a second body in a fireman’s carry. He deposits him on the sidewalk just outside of the shop.
“Johnson.” The gruff voice of Chief Collins commands my attention. “Where’s your head?”
“I’m solid, Sir.”
“Good. Get back in there, and let’s hit the hot spots.”
My gaze darts back to the ambulance where I just deposited half my heart. A hand clamps my shoulder, drawing my attention back to the man I’ve trusted way more than I’ve trusted myself.
“Let them do their job. As soon as we do ours, you’re clear to go to the hospital.”
In record time, I’m strolling through the hive of activity in the emergency department. I’ve been here too many times recently, and this time for all the wrong reasons.
My heart is lodged so firmly in my throat, it’s gonna be a miracle to get anything out as I approach the nurse’s desk.
Bile rises, adding to the uncomfortable sensation of being unable to breathe. I’m on the verge of tears.
“Cal, down here,” Kate’s voice calls over the beeps and bustle.
She meets me halfway. “She’s stable. Head CT is negative. She’s just gonna have some nasty bruising. They’re prepping her for surgery now.”
I freeze and pin Kate with a stare.
She pats my chest and shoots me a tender look. “Bullet wound in the shoulder, but non-life-threatening.”
I take a futile inhale as Kate leads us into a room and whooshes the curtain aside.
“Fuck.” The curse comes out on a breath.
Jules, pale, battered, and bruised, looks tiny in the hospital bed, hooked to all sorts of devices. But her heart rate is a steady beat through the monitor.
Her head lolls on a shitty excuse for a pillow, and then her eyes open and land on me. I sink into the hard chair by her side and take her hand.
She gives me a reassuring squeeze, and finally, I can breathe. I drop my forehead to her hand, pressing my mouth to the fingers that grip mine, letting all of the emotion I’ve held in travel through that one gesture.
She squeezes my hand again. One side of her face took a beating; the other is precious and unmarred. Tears gather in her eyes, pooling on the edge of her lashes .
“Charlie? Dani?”
I find my feet and rise over her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. This precious woman, solid as a rock. Not worried for herself at all.
“They’re fine.”
“The asshole?”
I shake my head. “Once he’s cleared by the doctors, he’s got a one-way ticket to jail.”
Her good eye closes, and the tear slips off its perch, leaving a trail of wetness behind as it races to her hair. I swipe it away with the brush of my knuckle.
“There’s no telling what he would’ve done, Cal. He was half crazed,” she says, her voice muffled behind the oxygen mask.
I watch as I smooth a hand over the mess of her hair. I can’t get enough of the feel of her. I need to touch her and make sure she’s okay like I need oxygen to breathe. “He didn’t get a chance, thanks to you.”
“Yeah, well.” Her eyes close in exhaustion, but a smile tugs up one corner of her mouth, the side that’s not beaten and black and blue. “Guess all those years of fighting with my brothers came in handy today.”
Finally, dread and worry and fear are replaced with hope.
“Thank you for saving them,” I say. “And remind me to thank your brothers for teaching you how to fight.”
A crew of nurses files in. “All right. Whaddaya say, let’s go remove some lead.” The lead nurse smiles at Jules, then turns her attention to me. “Are you hers?”
I’m still wearing my bunker gear, covered in soot, and no doubt smell like a fire. “Yeah, he’s mine,” Jules says.
A tight ball of emotion explodes in my chest. Earlier in the day, I’d told her I love her. I caught myself by surprise when I said the words. It was the exact wrong time, I realized too late. I should’ve been looking into her eyes when I said them the first time.
I bend over her and kiss her forehead. Looking deep into her eyes, promising her the world once we clear this final hurdle.
“I love you.” The words come unbidden from the deepest part of my heart. Right and true.
Her IV-laden hand cups my cheek as she gazes back at me. Light shines in her eyes, reflecting my love back to me. “I love you too.”