Page 25 of Fire Fight

So many bad memories assaulted me at once, freezing me in place right inside the sliding doors.

I had no idea how long I stood there before my name being called broke me from my trance.

“Crew!”

I glanced up to see one of the nurses, Sonya, waving at me.

Sonya was somewhere in her forties, though with her practically ageless complexion, I couldn’t tell for sure. All I knew was she was older than me and beautiful, her ebony hair pulled back in a no-nonsense bun at the base of her skull, her pink scrubs bright against her deep brown skin.

I smiled, her familiar face settling some of my nerves.

“Hey, Sonya,” I said as I approached. “Where you headed?”

She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Cafeteria. Gotta get a patient some soup.”

“Speaking of patients…”

Sonya’s eyes narrowed knowingly. “You’re wondering about that girl, aren’t you?”

I nodded, giving her a sheepish grin. “How is she?”

“That’s actually who I’m getting soup for, so why don’t you come see for yourself?”

Like a puppy dog, I trailed after Sonya to the cafeteria.

As Dusk Valley was the seat of the county, albeit a small one, we had a serviceable hospital that could handle most major incidents. That Aspen hadn’t been transferred up to Boise for additional, more specialized care was a good sign.

Sonya and I chatted about our families while she conned the cafeteria workers into heating up some soup despite the fact that the dinner window had closed hours ago. Then I followed her up to the fourth floor where Aspen was staying.

All was mostly quiet when we stepped out of the elevator.

“We’ve only got a few overnight patients right now,” Sonya said. “Little Bobby Ma?—”

Her words cut off as a loud, insistent beeping filled the hallway.The man standing at the nurse’s station glanced at the wall then to Sonya said, “Four seventeen.”

“Fuck,” Sonya breathed, and I was momentarily startled. I’d never heard her curse once in the entire time I’d known her, which was damn near my entire life.

She shoved the tray of food into my hands and took off running. As quickly as I could without spilling the soup everywhere, I followed after her.

“Sheriff!” I heard Sonya shout. “What are you doing to her?”

“Nothing!” a man yelped—a voice I recognized very well.

It took a moment for my brain to comprehend the scene when I reached the doorway to the room. My brother, Lane, stood in the center, hands raised as he stared at the woman on the bed.

Aspen.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, tears rolling down her cheeks, chest rising and falling rapidly, fingers white-knuckled as she gripped the blankets covering her.

Clearly in the throes of a panic attack.

In the nighttime, I hadn’t gotten a good enough look to see the purple bruising and swollenness around her eyes. And if I had, I likely would’ve assumed it was soot from the fire. In addition to the bandages around her head, she had one across her nose.

God, this fucker hadn’t simply tried to kill her. He’dbeatenher first.

Something primal perked up in my chest, demanding I go to her, cradle her in my arms, and comfort her until she calmed down. The deep-seated protective instinct roared to life, stronger and louder than ever, claiming Aspen as his. I saved lives daily, but that baser instinct had never been so adamant before. It took every single ounce of self-control I possessed to remain rooted in the place, on the fringes of Aspen’s life where I belonged.

“Aspen,” Sonya said gently, reaching for one of Aspen’s hands. “Look at me.”