CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
T revor had been in fires before, this wasn’t anything new. He’d had walls and ceilings collapse on him countless times, but he always trusted his training. If he relied on his academy drills and dozens of continuing education sessions, he would be all right.
The last thing Trevor remembered as they sped back to the station from their impromptu lunch was the chief instructing their squads on what parts of the scene to cover. He’d paired up with Javi, and everything had been fine. They followed procedure, communicated with the team, and at first it didn’t seem like anything beyond a standard fire. Then a chunk of the roof collapsed and Smithy and Maxwell were trapped. Chief, Javi, and Trevor had gone inside and managed to pull out their teammates before the situation got any worse.
The only problem? He and the chief both suffered helmet malfunctions and took in more smoke than air. Were he more lucid, he’d blame Hastings for ordering the cheaper helmets to cover for his budgeting blunders, but he didn’t have the energy for that now. In that moment he needed oxygen, some water, and most importantly Whitney by his side.
As he lay on the gurney, oxygen mask latched in place, he blinked up at the night sky and said a prayer that everything would work out. His throat burned from the smoke, but he knew it would heal with time. He, and the squad, were all lucky to be alive.
Lost in his musings, and the adrenaline crash, he closed his eyes and focused on inhaling and exhaling. His body ached from head to toe, his brain reeling. Trevor had been through this song and dance before, and knew he wouldn’t get discharged by the EMTs unless he followed orders. Being a stickler for the rules, he’d play ball.
As he waited for his turn with the medics, the clacking of heels on asphalt alerted him to a visitor. Hoping to see a shock of dark curls, he was crestfallen when he saw Virginia sashay to his side. Despite every cell of his body burning with fatigue, he managed to inch away as far as the gurney allowed.
“Trevor,” Virginia said his name in greeting, her hand raising barely above her waist.
Opening his mouth to respond, Trevor succumbed to a coughing fit. Virginia didn’t offer assistance. Her blue gaze flitted around them while he caught his breath, finally asking the question that brought her to him.
“Have you seen Scott?” She craned her neck to look beyond the grouping of EMTs and onlookers, not seeming to find answers in the crowd. Trevor shook his head, not giving a fig where his superior was. “It’s odd,” she continued, oblivious to Trevor’s complete disinterest, “no one has seen him tonight.”
Trevor gingerly tugged his oxygen mask down, wincing at the blast of warm air on his lips. “Haven’t seen him,” he croaked out before another coughing fit took hold. He didn’t care about any of this, he just wanted to see Whitney.
Virginia nodded, helping him slide the mask back in place. “Thanks, Trevor. I hope you feel better soon.”
Just as she turned to leave, Trevor heard a horrid, animalistic sound cut through the ruckus. His head swiveled and he found Whitney, gray eyes brimming with tears, backing away like she was on fire.
Trevor lurched, his body revolting. “Mmoo,” he said, struggling to say no through his shredded vocal cords. “Vitmmee,” he said, hoping she could figure out he was trying to say Whitney. This was all wrong.
Perhaps he’d died in that fire and he’d woken up in hell?
Trevor shrugged away from Virginia, his eyes locked with Whitney’s. Her gray gaze was misty, a hand pressed against her mouth. He yanked the mask from his face, gasping as the cooling air hit his lips. “Wttnee!” he tried to shout, but it came out as a sad whimper.
Turning on her heel, Whitney sprinted away from him, pushing through throngs of people until she was out of sight. Javi joined him, a sour expression on his face that had nothing to do with the fire.
“Sorry, Trev. I tried to stop her.”
Trevor banged his hand on the railing of his cot until an EMT strode over. Her eyes were tired yet focused as she got to work. “Mr. Mays, please keep that oxygen mask on until we can get a reading of your saturation levels.”
Virginia turned to Javi, and asked, “Have you seen Scott?”
Javi shook his head, his attention on Trevor. “Nah, not all night actually.”
Satisfied she wouldn’t find answers with Trevor and Javi, Virginia turned to leave, just as a series of flashbulbs popped around them. The EMT shouted over her shoulder for privacy as the press closed in.
“Please, Lieutenant, a comment on the fire!” one of the reporters shouted, earning a middle finger from Javi.
“Give the man some space, you vultures!” Javi’s outburst had the desired effect and the reporters took a few paces back. “I’ll go see if I can find Whitney,” Javi offered, following Virginia to the other side of the scene.
Trevor squeezed his eyes shut, simultaneously exhausted and defeated. This feeling of helplessness was getting old, and he hated the idea that Whitney was suffering because of a misunderstanding. Javi would find her, and then Trevor could explain nothing was going on with Virginia.
An hour later, Trevor and the chief were finally discharged by the EMTs. Both men suffered from smoke inhalation, but neither had serious injuries. Smithy had been taken to the hospital, and Trevor itched to see him.
Javi returned, out of breath from jogging around the area. Reading his mind, Javi shook his head and apologized. “I looked everywhere.” Trevor’s heart broke, and he knew he needed to find Whitney and make it right. The sooner the better.
“How you doing, sugar?” Daisy asked, cupping his face in her hands. They were soft and warm, and for a moment Trevor allowed himself to be a pampered son.
“I’m fine,” he rasped, pulling back to rub his throat. “Exhausted.”
Daisy pursed her lips. “I’m sure you are. We’ll get you home, and Whitney and I will take good care of you.”
Trevor perked right up at that. “Whitney’s still at the house?”
Raising an eyebrow, Daisy asked, “I assume. Why wouldn’t she be?”
Javi snorted, earning everyone’s attention. “Why do I need to be the bearer of bad news?”
Chief shuffled over, putting his weight on the gurney Trevor had vacated. “Because you’re the only one of us who can speak without being in agony.”
Wincing, Javi rallied. “Sorry, Chief.” He faced Daisy and explained. “Well, um. Whitney kind of ran out of here when she saw Trevor with Virginia.”
Trevor watched in horror as his mother’s sweet, concerned expression melted into a sullen, angry one. “I’m sorry, sugar. Did you just tell me that that she-devil was here, with my son?” Now her ire was focused on Trevor, and he shrunk back. “Someone explain before we need EMTs for another reason.” She thrust her hands on her hips, and Javi gulped.
Rubbing the back of his head, Javi barely met Daisy’s eyes. “You see, she couldn’t find Hastings and was asking around. Whitney came up when Virginia was with Trevor, and let’s just say it didn’t look good.”
Daisy sucked on her teeth. “We need to find Whitney. Poor girl. I don’t know what else is going on with her, but she was on a pretty heated phone call when I found her an hour ago.”
Trevor stepped forward, reaching his hand out. “Keys,” he ordered to Javi, who hooted in his face.
“Yeah right, I don’t think so.” Javi patted his pocket, the muffled jangle of his keys sounding like sad windchimes. “EMTs said you can’t drive for a few days, and I’m not letting you near my truck. I’ll drive y‘all back to Ms. Daisy’s.”
“Now,” Trevor barked, coughing as he shuffled to the truck.
Fortunately it only took ten minutes with Javi behind the wheel to get back to the house. Whitney’s car was missing from the driveway, and Trevor could hardly swallow down the bile rising up his throat.
As if reading his mind, Daisy sprinted ahead, muttering, “Oh no.” She fumbled with her keys before finally pushing through the front door. She turned on a light and called out into the empty house, “Whitney! Sugar, we’re back!”
Gus sauntered out from the kitchen, woofing at the invasion. Trevor headed for the kitchen and nearly fell to his knees when he saw the note on the table. “In here,” his voice grated, picking up the note with shaking fingers.
Daisy,
I want to thank you for your hospitality. You made me feel welcome in your home, and you have no idea how much that meant to me.
I hope you understand, but I won’t be staying here anymore. I think it’s best for everyone. Please take care of Paul and Gus.
Love, Whitney
P.S. please don’t try to interfere with Trevor. He has every right to follow his heart, and I truly hope he and Virginia will be happy. XO
Trevor let the note flutter to the floor as he dashed to the sink and retched, throwing up the sad remains of his diner lunch.
Daisy gasped behind him, reading the note for herself. She joined him at the sink, rubbing comforting circles on his back. “You’ll get her back,” she assured him, but Trevor wasn’t feeling very hopeful.
Much like his singed vocal cords, his heart was broken, and he didn’t know how to piece it back together. Whitney was gone, and he didn’t blame her.