Page 18 of Risk of a Lifetime
“Marcy! Where are you?” He raced across the debris as if he didn’t see or hear or feel the heat while he side-stepped the spot fires. “Marcy? Marcy!”
“Nooooo, JB!” She charged after him across the shattered bricks, the shards of glass, the chunks of asphalt and concrete littering the street. “Stop. I’m here. I’m here!”
He disappeared in to the section of her office that was still standing. A moment later, a second blast rocked her world.
Chapter Six
JB barreled toward the flames. “Marcy!”
His lungs filled with the acrid smoke, choking his senses. Heat crushed his movements and singed the hair on his arms. And the few angry, lingering flames beckoned him to test his strength. Resolve pressed him forward.
Find her. Find her. Don’t stop, find her.
A secondary explosion blew on the far side of the building. He flattened to the ground, covering his head with his arms. A rain of fragments dropped down. A couple of larger chunks found him as a target. No chance. There was no chance Marcy might have survived the second bomb.
His heart broke. His agonizing shouts mixed with the hiss and crackle of the settling debris. He stumbled to retrace his steps.
Sirens screamed closer. Blue sky merged with murky heat waves. Burning coughs racked his lungs. He collapsed to his knees in the debris. Marcy was gone. Enfolding his head with his arms, he rocked back and forth.
Make this a dream. A nightmare. Please, dear God, make this a dream.
Soft hands grabbed his and pulled. Stronger hands lifted his feet, others supported his middle. Voices merged in the background for a stretcher and medic. And someone pounded the smoldering material on his legs as he was placed on the cart. Within seconds, the stretcher jerked as the paramedics slid it into the ambulance, then placed a plastic mask over his mouth and nose.
Oxygen.
“No! Leave me alone.” He shoved the lifesaving air aside again and again while his lungs fought to suck deep, racking breaths. Exhausted, he pushed against the fingers stroking his forehead. “Leave me alone.”
“It’s Marcy. JB listen to me.”
Softness against his cheek.
“I’m okay. Look at me, I’m okay.”
He pushed the mask aside. Marcy?
A kiss, then another, then another. His tongue licked the salty wetness that caressed his lips. The fog of his mind craved the feelings flooding through the break. He’d do anything if she were alive. Quit law enforcement. Move back to Crayton. Anything. Even leave her alone if that’s what she wanted.
“Look at me, JB. I’m okay.” Her voice cracked as the hand holding his trembled.
Sucking in the clean air, he fought to open his eyes. “Marcy?”
She nodded, curling her fingers through his hair. Tears flooded across her soot-covered face, joining his as she burrowed her cheek against his.
“I thought I’d lost you.” He pulled her against his chest as the ambulance doors closed behind them.
Her fingers gripped his shirt. “Me, too.”
He kissed her hair. Her forehead. His lips skimmed hers as he thumbed away the soot from her cheek. “I thought I’d lost you.”
…
JB’s few hours in the trauma unit pushed him to his exasperation limit. Talking to Marcy had tested his last iota of composure. “Yes, I heard what you’ve been saying for the past five minutes. Can we get past this?”
“Not until you tell me what I said,” she stated.
Ultimatum? She thought she’d issue an ultimatum to him. Hell. Even stone-cold killers had balked at issuing him ultimatums. He was only one turn of a key in his truck’s ignition away from leaving Crayton far behind for good. “Let it go, Marcy. I agreed with you, so let it go.”
She took a step in his direction. “So what did I say?”
