Page 24 of From the Ashes (Redwood Bay Fire #2)

CHAPTER 24

Zahir

“Zahir, maybe you should stay back,” Lieutenant Flores says, raising his hands as if to try and stop me.

Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.

I barely even register him or what he’s saying as I dash past, racing toward the back of the restaurant where we’ll hopefully have better access.

What I don’t expect to run into are two of the waiters and what looks like a couple who’d been in the middle of dinner when the earthquake hit. All four of them are in what’s left of part of an office and a corridor that leads to a door that’s no longer there. They’re heaving chunks of stone and lumps of wood away with their bare hands.

“Thank god!” the man yells when he sees us, pausing to wipe his brow. “There are people under there!”

“We’ll take it from here,” the lieutenant says as he and Dray usher the good Samaritans away from the unstable area.

“Are any of you injured?” I ask, doing a quick visual assessment as they fumble their way through the debris littered all over the ground.

The man takes the woman’s hand as they and the waiters allow the firefighters to jump in and take over where they left off clearing the rumble. “We’re all okay, right?” he checks with the group.

They all nod, but one of the waiters points to the worst area of collapse. “Table twenty-five got caught between the wall collapse and the tree falling,” he tells us earnestly. “I saw it! They were fighting, so I was keeping an eye on them. We got this couple out,” he says, indicating the man and woman currently clinging to each other. “But they’re still under there!”

“How many people are there, sir?” Lieutenant Flores asks.

Teddy is opening up and shaking out emergency foil blankets to hand out. That would normally be my job, but I’m grateful no one is stopping me from attacking the rubble with Dray in this moment. If Colt isn’t out front and he isn’t with these guys…

“Four,” the waiter says, gratefully gulping down some bottled water, also from Teddy. “An older couple and a younger man and woman. It wasn’t so bad a few minutes ago. But then there was some kind of explosion and everything fell down some more, and…”

He trails off, but we don’t need him to explain. We saw the kitchen turn into a fireball. The rest of the team should be tackling that blaze now. Hopefully, they’ll get it out soon if they haven’t already. Judging by the sirens filling the air, another station has come to offer us backup.

All’s not lost, yet.

“Foster,” the lieutenant says to Teddy. “Escort these people to the triage area. Once they’re taken care of, get back here.” I glance over my shoulder to see him grip Teddy’s arm. “If there’s anyone to spare, bring them back with you,” he mutters.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Teddy says with conviction.

Then Flores rushes over to the other side of me, working with Dray to keep digging our way through, bit by bit.

“Fire department!” I yell, my voice hoarse. “Anyone in there? Call out!”

“Hello?” a woman’s muffled voice comes through the rubble.

“Hold on, ma’am!” the lieutenant instructs as we alter our direction toward where it sounded like she was. “This is the Redwood Bay Fire Department, we’re here to help. Are you injured?”

“No,” she replies with a cough. “But my friend is under some of the crap that fell just now and he’s not responding. His parents are with me. His mom’s arm is maybe broken. Should I keep digging toward you? I’m worried about the structural integrity, but I didn’t want to just sit here.”

“Let us do the digging now, ma’am,” the lieutenant says. My arms are aching but we’re tearing through what’s left of the roof, getting closer to the Sakura tree poking out through the cracks, reaching for the heavens. I can’t see any flames, so hopefully that means the rest of the squad have gotten the fire out.

One less problem to deal with is appreciated right now.

“Please hurry,” she says. “I’m worried about my friend.”

“The cavalry is here!” Lili yells from behind us, and my heart leaps as I turn to see her running toward us with almost all of the rest of the One-Thirteen. She, Teddy, Lochlan, Sawyer and Anton all dive in without needing to be told, helping with the excavation. Captain Valentine is bringing up the rear, keeping a little distance as he assesses the big picture.

He can tell us to fall back if he thinks it’s unsafe. Of course he needs to protect the team if shit goes sideways.

But if Colt is the man unconscious under the fresh load of rubble, the only way I’m leaving this scene is in a body bag.

I can’t lose him. I can’t. I only just got him back. This can’t be the way our story ends, not after so long living separate lives. It’s not fair. I won’t stand for it!

“What’s your name, ma’am?” the lieutenant asks.

“Portia,” she replies. The volume of her answer tells us we’re getting close, and almost a dozen pairs of hands converge on the same spot, all working to shift enough rubble to finally get a visual confirmation.

“Portia, I’m Rico,” the lieutenant says. “Just hang on. We’re almost there. Can you see any daylight?”

“Yes…uh…”

To my right, several stones cascade down, then suddenly four fingers wiggle their way through the crack.

“Got you!” I yell, covering her hand with mine. She squeezes me as best she can.

“That’s fantastic, Portia,” Lieutenant Flores calls to her. “Can you make sure you and the people you’re with please move back? We’re going to come through now.”

“Gotcha, Rico.”

We give her a few moments to get out of the way, then the entire One-Thirteen attacks that spot with determination. My heart is in my throat, and I don’t trust myself to speak as the hole begins to grow, revealing the three people trapped underneath. As soon as there’s a shoulder-width gap, two of them push the older woman forward.

“Please, help my wife!” the man cries, and I instinctively reach for her.

And then I know. I might not have seen Angela Ross in over fifteen years, but I still recognize her immediately. And I only saw Fredrick Ross a few weeks ago.

Colt must have been with them.

He must be the one that’s still trapped.

“I’m here! I’m here!” Yara yells, practically skidding to halt beside us with a gurney and her supply bag swinging across her body.

“Possible fractured arm,” I tell my partner, easing Mrs. Ross into her arms.

“I’m okay,” she sobs, pointing shakily with her uninjured arm. “My son! Please help him! He could be crushed!”

There goes any last trace of doubt.

Ice sweeps through me and I squeeze my eyes shut briefly, saying a silent prayer.

La hawla wa la quwwata illa billah.

“Male victim reportedly under more rubble,” I force myself to tell Yara quietly. Then before I can stop myself, I add, “It might be Colt.”

Yara jerks and stares at me. “Colt? Your Colt?”

“It’s you!” Mr. Ross splutters as he climbs out from the rubble. As if my appearance is somehow a more outrageous shock to his day than an earthquake.

“Wait, you know Colton Ross?” the second, very attractive woman asks as she clambers her way out, ignoring Sawyer’s hand as he tries to help. She must be Portia. For some reason, she’s clutching a wine bucket to her ample chest. I try not to wonder why she was having lunch with Colt and his parents.

His life is literally on the line. Him making it out of this alive is all that matters. Not if he was on a date. That’s ridiculous. However, my poor, tattered heart isn’t exactly listening to reason right now.

“He’s my…” I go to answer Portia. But then I falter, watching as Sawyer and Anton dive through the opening, already tackling the area where the only man I’ve ever loved is apparently languishing underneath.

Even now, I can’t out him to his parents if I don’t have his consent.

“Delacroix,” Captain Valentine shouts. I snap my head to look at him. “What are you waiting for? Get in there and assist.”

Gratitude washes through my entire body as I lock eyes with him to make sure I heard him correctly. He nods once, his expression serious.

“Thank you,” I rasp before forcing my way through the narrow space. That’s why Valentine is such a great captain. He doesn’t need to understand everything to see that this isn’t any ordinary rescue to me.

The guys have already uncovered feet in a pair of once shiny brogues and a hand. “Sir, can you hear us?” Anton calls as I position myself to lever away a long slab of plasterboard.

“His name’s Colt,” I utter, putting my back into moving the debris. “Colton Ross.”

I try and brace myself for the possibility that we might be working to uncover a lifeless body. But I can’t accept it. There’s still hope. There’s always hope until we know for sure.

With a guttural snarl, I finally shift the chunk of wall out the way.

Revealing Colt’s slack, bloodstained face and torso.

“We have him!” Sawyer cries to the rest of the team. Half of them are still digging, and the other half are securing the structure with support beams and air bags so the rest of the building or that Sakura tree don’t crash on top of our heads as well.

“Is he alive?” Mrs. Ross sobs.

My fingers are already jammed into his neck as I stare at his chest. “He has a pulse!” I shout as his lungs inflate. “And he’s breathing!” I almost pass out myself with relief. Yara drops by my side, ready with an IV bag to get some fluids into him. “Colt! Can you hear me? It’s Zahir.”

Yara slides the line into his wrist without issue as I stimulate his sternum.

He moans.

“Colt?” I utter, aware that Dray has joined Sawyer and Anton in the widened space, helping to get the rest of the crap off Colt’s body. His right pant leg is torn, and his shin is bruised several colors, making me worry about a break.

He moans again, his limbs twitching. I use some bottled water to rinse the blood from around his eyes. Judging from the small red pool under his head, it seems he’s hit the back of his skull in addition to the cut on his forehead. They could both be superficial.

Or they could both be very serious indeed.

“Colt?” I say more urgently before dropping my voice and leaning closer to him so hopefully nobody else hears me.

I don’t care if I’m being unprofessional.

I’m desperate.

“Colt…please come back to me. I…I love you.”

Now might not be the most appropriate or romantic moment to say it out loud for the first time.

But it also might be my last chance.

His eyes flutter open.

The collective gasp flies around those crammed in the space with him. “He’s awake!” Sawyer reports to everyone else.

“Baby?” he mumbles, his hand pawing groggily at me.

I grab it and kiss his knuckles, not bothering to even try and stop the tears streaming down my face. “I’m here,” I tell him. “I’ve got you.” I really hope his parents can’t see us right now, because I don’t think I can let go of his hand any time soon.

He peers at me through his wet lashes and manages a small smile.

“Love you, too,” he mumbles.

My heart trips. He probably doesn’t mean it. We’re in the middle of a crisis, after all, and he’s barely conscious.

Although…I meant it. So who knows?

“We need the backboard in here!” Yara yells. Teddy appears in a flash with it. Mr. and Mrs. Ross push their way into the space again behind him. Reluctantly, I place Colt’s hand gently down. I need to work on him, anyway.

“What’s happening?” Mr. Ross thunders. “Is he all right? We need to see him!”

“You need to step back and allow my team to work,” Captain Valentine insists kindly but firmly.

“His vitals look good,” Yara says.

“Leg hurts,” Colt mumbles.

Yara smiles at me. “Already administering pain relief. I think you’re going to be just fine, Mr. Ross.”

I manage not to sob in relief as Mrs. Ross crouches down next to me and does that enough for the both of us. She practically shoves me back so she can grab Colt’s hand and press it to her bosom.

“Oh, my darling boy,” she wails. “It’s okay! You hear that? The nice lady said you’re going to be all right.”

“Watch out for his IV,” Yara warns her, proving she’s not always nice if someone gets in the way of her treating a patient.

But Colt is woozy and he’s only looking at me, smiling at me, pulling his hand free from his mom and reaching for me. “You’re really here,” he murmurs, his gritty, sweaty palm cradling the side of my face.

For a second, I bask in his touch. Then I remember where we are and who we’re with, so I carefully push his arm back down with an awkward cough.

“The pain meds will already be working,” I explain truthfully to his parents. “And the adrenaline will be making him disoriented. We need to get him to a hospital right away to check him over more thoroughly and treat his leg and head wounds. You can all ride together, so?—”

Colt suddenly grabs my wrist, eyes blazing with intensity. “I told them,” he says to me, his face then splitting into a beautiful, dopey grin. “I really told them.”

“Told who what?” I ask. I’d like to guess, but I’m too afraid to get my hopes up.

“We don’t have time for this,” Mr. Ross snaps. “My wife and son need proper medical attention. I want?—”

“I told them I’m gay,” Colt says over his father’s protests, causing the other man to stutter to a halt. “I told them I’m never going to marry a woman even if Portia is awesome, and I don’t even want to be a lawyer anymore. I’m freeeee.”

His expression is certainly blissful as he giggles, not taking his eyes off mine. I’m so stunned, words fail me. Surely he didn’t do that?

Sure enough, Mr. Ross is harrumphing again. “He’s delirious, just like you said. He has no idea what he’s saying. It’s pure nonsense!”

“Actually,” the younger woman—Portia—says, moving in closer now that the One-Thirteen have cleared a path. She’s still holding the wine bucket for some reason. “That’s exactly what he said.” She smiles knowingly at me. “Specifically, that I’m awesome. But also, the whole ‘I’m gay and I’m off to live my own life now’ bit, too.”

“See, baby?” Colt says. “No more hiding, I promise. I’m alllll yours.”

“Him?” Mrs. Ross shrieks. Of all the alarms and horns and sirens that have gone off in the past hour, that sound manages to hurt my ears the most. She’s looking at me aghast, and my heart sinks.

Of course I’m still going to be the issue.

“Yes, him, Mom,” Colt slurs before blowing a raspberry. “It’s always been him. So you’re not allowed to mean about him ever again, okay? It’s a new law.” He giggles some more to himself, but then his eyes land on me once more. “You’re my ocean, baby.”

“You’re my sunshine,” I reply breathlessly.

“Oh, hell fucking yeah,” Portia says. I turn to look at her and she sighs happily. “Who’d pick me when he’s already got you, huh?”

I don’t know who this woman is, but it’s clear to me she has Colt’s back, and that makes me want to open my heart to her as well. Before I can thank her or even look back at Colt, though, Mr. Ross is off again.

“This is wildly unprofessional behavior!” he bellows from under his dusty, trembling mustache, shaking a pointed finger at me and turning a rather alarming shade of purple. “I demand this man be removed from my son’s care immediately so he can be treated for his injuries without some hack encouraging his delusions!”

The entirety of the One-Thirteen goes very still, including our newest member, Drayton Hendrix. But the last thing I want to do is jeopardize Colt’s health. “It’s fine, I’ll just?—”

As I try to stand up, a small but very strong hand lands on my shoulder, keeping me in place. “Zahir Delacroix is our lead paramedic,” Lili says, sounding dangerously amused. “There’s no one better that could be treating your son, expect maybe his partner, Yara Ortiz. You know, the two people who just revived young Colt here.”

“Don’t go,” Colt whimper, pawing at me.

“I’m right here,” I assure him, because apparently, I’m not going anywhere.

Mr. Ross puffs up like a pigeon. “I don’t have any problems with the girl. But this boy?—”

“This man is a member of the One-Thirteen firehouse,” Captain Valentine says firmly. He removes his helmet as he steps forward to square up with Colt’s father. “The station that just saved your family’s life. If you have a problem with the service we’re providing, you are more than welcome to make your own way to San Clemente General.”

“I’m not leaving him all alone!” Mrs. Ross shrieks. “He’s upset!”

Behind me, Portia tsks. “He’s quite clearly not alone, Mrs. Ross. And the only people upsetting him are you two. So either shut up or get out, because Colt’s in good hands, and he needs to get his injuries seen to ASAP.”

She crooks an eyebrow, not blinking until the Rosses lower their gazes.

“See,” Colt says in a sing-song voice. “Portia’s awesome. Oh! Portia! The Nemos! I?—”

“Right here, buddy,” she says warmly, holding up the mysterious wine bucket. “I’ll keep them safe for you. I assume you’ll want to take them home?”

“Belong to the restaurant,” he mumbles, looking sad.

She scoffs. “I’ll speak with the manager. If you want them, I’ll buy the place some new ones. I reckon these guys will have trauma bonded with you by this point.”

He blinks happily at her. “Zahir, I made a new friend, and I love her.” He frowns and looks back at me. “But I love you the most, I promise.”

I chuckle, and before I can stop myself, I lean down and kiss his forehead. If he’s going to repeat it, then I will as well. “I love you, too. Hospital, now. Come on.”

I can feel people shuffling behind me and speaking in low tones, but I ignore them all as Yara and I focus on rolling Colt onto the backboard so we can extract him. As we move him, though, he winces and jerks his hand to his left hip.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, immediately going to palpate the area.

But he smacks mY hands away. “That’s from before the earthquake.” He grins drunkenly. “It’s a surprise.”

“I’ve had enough surprises today,” I grumble. “Show me.”

He chuckles and lifts his shirt up while pulling down the waistband of his pants. “I was tired of doing everything I was told,” he says. “So I did something spontaneous. Maybe a bit crazy. Is it crazy, Zahir?”

I can’t answer him for a moment, because my throat has temporarily closed up, and my eyes are burning with tears.

“You got a tattoo?” Yara asks, obviously also seeing the same clear medical grade adhesive covering the brand-new art on Colt’s hip. “Neat! What is it?”

“My signature,” I manage to croak out.

It’s where I signed him during our insanely intense and amazing art sex in my new studio a couple of weeks ago.

He looks smugly at it. “I couldn’t believe it didn’t come off when we…you know.” He waggles his eyebrows at me, and I try not to blush. Thankfully, everyone else seems to have moved farther away from the collapsed area, and don’t seem to be listening in. “And I was just, like, overcome with the knowledge that I had to make it permanent. So I took a bunch of photos so I could recreate it and had an appointment yesterday. Because I’m yours, Zahir. I never, ever, ever want you to doubt that again. I’ll never leave again or treat you like shit. I hope it’s okay and not weird. Maybe I should have asked your permission to use your autograph like that, but?—”

I can’t stand it any longer. I lean down and kiss his mouth hard right there on the damn backboard. “It’s beautiful,” I say wetly as I laugh against his lips. “You’re beautiful.”

“Because you make me beautiful,” he tells me.

Apparently not everyone has quite moved out of earshot. “Okay,” Portia says very seriously. “I’m calling shotgun right now. I’m going to be the flower girl at your wedding.” She indicates Yara. “This one’s clearly going to be maid of honor, and you’ve probably got a dozen groomsmen over there. So that makes me the flower girl.”

I laugh and so does Colt, who grips my hand despite the IV in his wrist. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Shaking my head, I brush his hair back. “You’re high on pain meds.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You want a more romantic proposal than this? Such a diva.”

Something strange travels down my spine. I know he doesn’t mean it…but whatever final reservations I had lingering within me that Colt wasn’t all in finally and completely dissolve.

He’s come out to his parents.

He’s possibly giving up law.

He’s staying in Redwood Bay.

He loves me. He might even want to marry me.

What is there now standing in the way of our future other than my fear? Nothing could be as terrifying as the possibility of losing him forever like I faced just now.

Forever with him sounds like exactly what I want.

“Do it again properly some time, and you’ll find out if I’ll say yes,” I say, my skin burning and my head light as I feel in my bones just how much I mean that.

Colton Ross has been the love of my life since he breezed into my life at fourteen and even after we were eighteen when he slipped through my fingers like grains of sand on the beach. Now that he’s washed back up on my shore and proven to me just what kind of man he is under the facade, I’m never letting him go again. I’m never letting him hide again—neither of us will.

We wasted fifteen years apart. As of today, that period of our lives is officially over.

“I told the guys you were my boyfriend when I thought you were dead,” I confess as we lift him onto the gurney.

He laughs and reaches for my hand again. “Happy to be your alive boyfriend, Boyfriend.”

I glance around at the rest of the squad who are very obviously pretending not to be listening. “You know the entire One-Thirteen just heard that, right?” I ask him with a wince.

But he just grins harder.

“They were meant to, baby,” he says.