10-42. Yelling.
There’s a thread right there in my brain, desperately wanting to be pulled.
“Load her up, she needs the hospital,” Hailey says, and when my eyes flip to her, there’s a tightening of her mouth, a small flinch of her eyes.
Things aren’t good.
Before they get her into the ambulance, I grab her hand, Quinn giving me room to be beside her.
“I’m going to be there as soon as I can, okay?” I tell her, fighting back a wave of emotion because it’s only just occurring to me I can’t go with her. “I’ve got to decontaminate myself. You’re going to be okay.”
She squeezes my hand, giving me a weak nod. A second later, I get the gift I didn’t know I needed. Bryn smiles at me. Nothing big, nothing extravagant. Not the smile she used when we danced together. But a smile that shows me just a hint of that front tooth that isn’t perfect but is perfect to me.
“I love you,” she mouths, the words not even a whisper.
It breaks what little hold I had on keeping my shit together.This wasn’t the way I saw this going, but with moisture filling my eyes, I shake my head. “Not fair. I still can’t kiss you.”
Her eyes close, but the smile widens. After squeezing my hand once more, she lets it go, and I step back to help slide the stretcher into the ambulance.
“Take care of my heart, yeah? It’s going with you,” I tell her, and when she places her hand over her heart, the streaks run down my face.
A hand clasps me on the shoulder, squeezing firmly. Brody.
Tyson closes the ambulance doors, hitting them twice to let the paramedics know they’re good to go. He turns to look at me.
“She’ll be okay,” he says, slapping me on the other arm. “I’ve seen her put a few guys in their place over the years, and anyone who does that at her size will be just fine after that.”
He gestures behind me at the building, but I don’t look in that direction. Unknowingly, Tyson just yanked on the thread.
Guys that need to be put in their place.
10-42. Yelling.
The man coming down the stairs when Brody and I were first making entry.
Holy fuck.
“Brody,” I say without looking at him. I’m scanning the crowd, the cars, the trucks, the entire scene without moving and making it obvious. “You remember the guy coming down with that first victim?”
“Yeah.”
“That was the guy who yelled at Bryn at 10-42. She told me the arsonist wasn’t Eddie. She saidyelling. 10-42.”
He stiffens beside me, picking up the thread of thought.
Tyson turns his head to look at me from the other direction. “You think it was this guy who yelled?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I fucking do,” I respond at the same moment I spot him leaning against an ambulance down the road. He’s watching the fire, mouth gaping. Looking around the rest of the scene, I spot Luke with an axe across the parking lot. “One of you go grab Luke.”
“Why?” Tyson asks.
I nod in the direction of where Luke is. “Because he’s got a camera mounted on his helmet.”
We might have them strapped to our gear now, but Luke’s camera is his own, and I want this in possession of someone I trust with my life.
Brody waits until Tyson is gone to ask, “What are you gonna do?”
My eyes land back on the guy, and I crack my knuckles to expend some of the anger bubbling in my veins.
