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“I just need to—”
“You need to come with us.” A second EMT, blond-haired and blue-eyed, takes my wrist with more force than his partner does. “You swallowed a metric ton of smoke, Hannah. There’s no point watching him come out if you collapse anyway.”
“No, I don’t—”
He presses a mask over my face, the elastics slapping my skin until I cry out. Then he pushes on my shoulders until my knees fold, and I sit on the ground.
“We need to listen to your lungs.” The EMT I know as Luc crouches down and straps a portable blood pressure cuff around my arm. “Then we need to get you to the hospital for monitoring.”
“We’ll need your statement first.” A cop walks up on my right and looks down at me with concern marring his face. He crouches too, but keeps his notebook in one hand and a pen in the other. “Why was Raul Montenegro pulled from the house, Ms. Sullivan? And why were you inside at all?”
“I-I broke in.” My eyes swing back to the house as one side begins to crumble. Like a stack of cards, it simply collapses, and takes my heart with it. “I was here to make amends with Axel, because we had a fight last night.” I tug the mask from my face and cry out at the filthy air that jumps back into my lungs. “I was awful to him. His truck was in the driveway, so I knocked on the door to speak to him.”
“And Raul?” He jots notes in his book. “Why was he here?”
“He was carrying a gas can.” A fresh sob bounces along my chest and bursts past my lips. “He was inside when I got here. Then he came out through the backyard.”
I cling to the scene in front of menow, to the sight of Ruiz perching on the end of the long ladder. His clothes smoldering, and his skin turning black from the smoke. But he wears a helmet and mask, and to him, I guess that’s enough.
“I called Axel a liar.” I hug my oxygen mask and cry. “I called him jealous and a liar.”
“Alright!” Ruiz announces for us all. “Open her up, Feeney. Then sprint, bitch. She’s gonna try to tag your ass.”
“Oh god.” My breath races and my chest heaves, sending the little monitors the EMTs have hooked me up to spiraling into a frenzy. “Oh god, Axel. Oh god.”
“I can— get the d— open.” Axel’s voice is a rushed panic. “It’s jam—”
“Dammit!” Nix spins at the truck and faces his remaining firefighters. “Rizz. Patrick! Get in through the first floor and see if you can bring him out from the bottom.” He grabs his radio. “Hold on, Feeney. We’re bringing reinforcements through the bottom level.”
“No!” Axel’s word is clear. His determination, absolute. “Send th— in and they’ll g— swallowed u—”
Ruiz kneels on the end of his ladder and works to peek inside. “Bust it open, Feeney! Your floor’s about to go. Then you’re screwed.”
“Oh god.” I set my elbows on my knees and cover my mouth with my hands. “Come out, Axel.”
I catch sight of a different set of paramedics lifting Raul’s stretcher. They snap the wheeled legs into place with asnick, and toss their medbag on top. Then they’re racing. Sprinting toward their ambulance and slamming the doors shut.
“Please come out.” I bring my gaze back to Axel’s window and chant, “Please come out. Please come out.”
“Come on.” Luc pushes up to stand and grabs me under one arm to pull me up too. “It’s time to get you to the hospital for monitor—”
“No.” I twist out of his hold, and cry out when a vacuum of air zips through the window.
It’s like the sound someone makes just a second before diving under water.
“Axel!”
“Here he comes!” Ruiz pushes high on his knees and opens his arms like he’ll literally catch a full-grown man. “Everybody down!”
The top level of the house implodes. Glass shoots from every direction, every window, as pressure builds and the fire races to suck in new air.
The paramedics grab on and slam me to the road so my chin raps against the curb on Westchester Lane, and stars dance in my eyes. But debris flies straight over top of us. Projectiles that would be dangerous, if I’d remained standing.
My brain swims, and dots float in my peripherals, but I wrestle with my captors and fight to see the house. I glimpse Ruiz slamming to his ladder, the explosion large enough to rock the foundations he was resting upon.
But then Axel, in his mustard yellow turnouts, dives through the window. His helmet is literally on fire. His uniform smolders. He slams to the edge of the ladder, and I shove up to stand, screaming when he overshoots his landing and topples straight over the other side.
“Axel!” I sprint across the street just as Ruiz throws his arm out and catches Axel by the wrist.
