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Terrified, confused, dazed, I found myself reaching for my phone from my pocket, scrolling, finding the name of the only person I wanted right then.
"Holl?" Malcolm's sleepy, deep voice said in my ear, and I could practically see him sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes, looking at the clock to see what time it was.
"Malcolm," I cried, hearing the sheer hysteria in my voice.
"Holly? What happened? Where are you?" he asked, and in my head I saw him flying out of bed, already rushing across his room, grabbing clothes on the way.
God, he was a good, good man.
The best.
Salt of the Earth.
And mine.
If he wasn't sick of dealing with my drama at this point.
"My house. There's a..."
"Ma'am," a firefighter said, making me jolt. I'd been too busy picturing Malcolm in my head to notice that the fire department had arrived.
"Help him," I demanded, dropping my phone, gesturing toward my brother. "I don't know why he won't wake up," I said, voice catching.
It was a blur then.
I was pulled away from my brother as the paramedics arrived, as a second set pulled me toward the back of their truck as I watched the water start to spray at our home.
"Holly!" Malcolm's voice hollered, making me turn to find him running up the driveway, eyes panicked as he looked at the house.
"Sir," one of the police officers said, pushing a hand into Malcolm's chest to stop him.
"Holly!" Malcolm bellowed, trying to push past the cop.
I couldn't seem to find words in that moment. Shock, I guess. But I somehow got to my feet, moving away from the paramedic, and walking on numb feet toward Malcolm, right into the center of his chest.
It was right there that I just crumbled apart while Malcolm frantically tried to hold me together.
"It's okay. You're okay. You're okay."
"Shep," I cried.
"Shep is okay," he said, even though I knew he couldn't know that. "They're taking him to the hospital," he told me, rubbing his hands down my spine. "You need to go too," he said. "You're bleeding, honey," he added.
"I had to break the window," I said with a pathetic sob.
"It's okay. You did it. And you're okay. And Shep is okay."
"I threw him out of a window," I said, body starting to quake with my cries.
"Good. You did good. Come on," he demanded, trying to coax me forward. But when I couldn't seem to make myself move, his hands went down, scooping me up, cradling me to his chest as he walked me back toward the ambulance, dropping me down on the gurney. "I'm going with her," he barked at one of the paramedics as they moved into the ambulance with us.
"She's going to be okay," he told Malcolm as he started to check me over.
The ride felt like it was over in a blink.
Then there I was in a familiar emergency room, having a nurse fuss over me, checking vitals, cleaning up my arm.
I felt detached from it all, though. I didn't even feel it when she touched me. When she spoke, it sounded like her voice was coming from the end of a very long tunnel.
"Is she okay?" I heard Malcolm with his big, boomy type voice, ask. "Is this just shock?" he added.
I don't know what the nurse said, but I watched as she stitched flesh that belonged to me but might as well not have in that moment.
A banana bag was hung, a line went into my vein.
A mask went over my face, pumping fresh oxygen into my body.
The nurse excused herself at some point, and Malcolm moved to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching down to grab my hand.
Squeezing.
I felt that.
"You're okay, Holly," he assured me. "Just some bumps and bruises. You're just a little dazed is all. Your blood pressure plummeted," he told me. "You're going to come back to me," he said, sounding a bit desperate for that to happen. "Just relax, okay?" His other hand moving up to stroke my hair away from my forehead.
He couldn't seem to get enough of touching me then.
My hair, my jaw, my cheek, my neck, my shoulder.
"I about had a heart attack," he confided, shaking his head. "I knew it was bad," he added. "When you called, I knew it was bad. You sounded so panicked," he told me, closing his eyes for a second like he was trying to chase away the memory. "But then when I got there and saw the flames. I thought you were in there, Holl," he told me, giving my hand a crushing squeeze. "Just got you. Can't stand the thought of losing you," he added as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss between my brows.
Shivers started to rack my system then, making Malcolm move off the bed to pull the blanket up higher, then go to grab me two others, piling them on.
