29. Eli
Eli
By the time I swing my truck into the driveway of my house, it’s late and I’m wiped. The wedding was fun, everything I hoped it would be for my best friend since kindergarten, the man who’s essentially my brother. He and Lainey deserved today. One filled with happiness, joy, and most of all, peace.
After I watched Kendra walk out the door with that little prick she brought as her date, I didn’t really feel like staying either.
But the station guys were all there, and it was easy to get sucked back into their bullshit, and before I knew it a couple hours had passed.
I finally called it a night knowing I needed to be up early and get Wren from my mom in the morning.
It was nice of her to take Wren home so I could stay later, but I honestly missed my baby girl and hated not being the one putting her to bed.
Being back on shift is coming sooner rather than later, so I need to get used to letting others help me more with Wren. I never thought it would be this hard.
Turning off the truck, my attention is pulled to the lights still on in Kendra’s house. My heart twists thinking about being with her in that photo booth, our kiss, and the strip of photos burning a hole in my pocket.
That perfect fucking kiss.
I can feel the ghost of her tongue sweeping over mine, sweet and hungry. I wanted more, but she slammed the brakes on us. I understand and I don’t all at the same time.
We have a complicated past, one that nobody even fucking knows about.
All our friends just think we constantly push each other’s buttons because we are oil and water .
. . but the truth is she is the oxygen sparking the flames in my soul.
The emotions she strikes light up so fast: intense, explosive, consuming.
To others it seems like we can’t stand each other, but the reality is that I am burning for her.
Have been for years, and I’m just now admitting the truth to myself, one that is becoming harder and harder to keep secret.
At this late hour I don’t think that Kendra will be awake, but maybe I can catch her before she goes to bed, talk to her for a minute without the interruption of a baby needing our attention. I’ll take any time she is willing to give me. At this point I’m not above begging.
Walking across her driveway and up her back steps, I open the screen, knocking confidently on the solid door. It swings inward, having not been closed properly, exposing a messy kitchen.
That’s odd, especially this time of night.
It’s also not safe. Don’t like that.
I walk in and shut the door behind me. “Kendra?” I call out to the silent house.
Maybe she’s sleeping?
Taking in the space again, it feels wrong. I know the girls all got ready here, but this mess is not just from them. It looks like things were tossed on the floor in a way that doesn’t add up with a bridal party or Kendra’s normal neatness.
Kitchen stools are knocked over.
When I look at the fridge there is a dark red smudge at my chest height and something about it sends a shiver up my spine.
“Kendra!” I yell this time, moving down the hallway quickly, determined to find her, praying she will be pissed at me for waking her up safe and sound in her bed.
An animalistic roar leaves me when I rush into the living room and find Kendra unmoving, crumpled and bloody on the floor. Her pretty blue dress is tattered and torn; her beautiful face is so swollen it would be hard to know it was her.
I drop to my knees beside her and reach for her right wrist.
Please, God, please give me a pulse.
A slow, languid thump taps under my fingers as I pull out my phone and dial 9-1-1.
“9-1-1 what’s your emergency?”
“Yeah, this is Captain Eli Hargrove—I am at 517 Dogwood Lane. I need an ambulance. Unconscious woman, Kendra Powell, twenty-eight, severely beaten, unresponsive, low pulse. I don’t know how long she has been out.”
“Okay. Yes, sir, they are five minutes out. Do you want us to stay on the line with you until they are there?”
“No, I got this, just tell them to hurry the fuck up.”
I hang up the phone and go unlock the front door, quickly taking up my place next to Kendra again.
“I’m here, sweetheart. I’m right here.” My eyes keep scanning her body, assessing the damage.
The more I look, the more enraged I become.
Blood, scrapes, a split lip. Bruises are blooming all over her delicate skin.
Her left arm is obviously broken, so I hold her right hand and stroke the back of it gently.
And that is only what I can see with my eyes, who knows what damage is done internally.
I am going to murder that motherfucker.
The comforting peal of sirens in the distance means that help is close. And not just help from anyone, from my FGFD family.
Kendra lets out a pained moan from the floor, barely squeezing my hand.
“Don’t move, sweetheart. Please stay still, the ambulance is coming.” I rasp out the words.
“Eli?” Kendra croaks, her voice hardly audible.
“I’m right here, it’s going to be okay.”
“Don’t go,” she says, a tear dripping from her swollen eye.
“Promise, I am never leaving you again, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.’’ I lift up her hand and kiss the back of it as flashing lights illuminate us through the living room windows. “Thank fuck.”
Two of our EMTs, Eric Collins and Fiona Gentry, burst through the front door. Relief pours over me. I want to get Kendra the hell out of here and to the hospital. I am terrified of internal bleeding or other complications.
“Talk to us,” Eric says.
“She left the reception a couple hours ago with her date, he drove her home. I just got back to my place and saw her lights still on. I came over to talk to her, the back door wasn’t fully shut when I knocked, and I found her like, like this.
Fuck.” I run my hands over my face as they get to work on Kendra.
It’s hard to stay out of their way, to not be touching her.
“I was so fucking tempted to put her in my truck and take her in myself,” I admit.
“You did the right thing, Eli,” Fiona says calmly. “She could have major internal injuries, and we definitely needed to get this neck brace on her,” she says, carefully placing the C-collar around Kendra’s neck.
I feel like I’m going to be sick watching them. This shouldn’t be happening. I should have insisted on being the one to take Kendra home. I should have never let her leave with that asshole. He had been making her uncomfortable all night, had been staring daggers at me.
“Alright, on my count,” Eric says, snapping my attention back to Kendra.
“I’m going to lock the back door and then the front door.
I will meet you in the rig.” I stride back to the kitchen and flip the lock on the back door.
Just as I am about to shut off the lights, I realize that I should probably grab Kendra’s phone, keys, and wallet with her ID and insurance card.
Her phone is face down on the eat-in table next to her purse.
As I walk that way to get it, I step on something and reach down to pick it up.
It’s the photo strip of us tonight.
I grab Kendra’s bag and phone. The entire screen is cracked.
All the pieces are falling into place as to what happened in this house tonight . . . and it’s my fault.
I cut in on their dance.
I pulled her into that photo booth.
I kissed her.
I let her leave with that asshole.
I didn’t protect her.
I left her.
Never again. Kendra is mine. And she deserves so much better, so much more. That starts right now. I slide the photos of us into my pocket, next to my matching set, and let out a shaky breath.
I lock the front door, jump into the back of the ambulance, and pick up Kendra’s right hand.
I keep making mistakes when it comes to her, but I can’t stand by anymore and watch the only woman I’ve ever loved, always just out of my reach.
And I sure as fuck won’t allow her to be hurt like this ever again.
I’m ready to step into the flames for her, I just hope she is willing to keep supplying the oxygen.