Page 13 of Loving Trent (Love in the Bootheel #5)

Nine

SHAWN

The sound of fists pounding on the front door pulls me from the dream of a faceless man with deep, soulful brown eyes.

There is a pounding behind my eyes. But what hurts worse is my throat and lungs.

Every inhale of oxygen feels like I’m trying to swallow gravel.

The doctor told me it would be this way for a couple of days, but it would go away eventually.

Other than that, I was given a clean bill of health and let go late last night after refusing to stay the night.

It wasn’t that I hated hospitals or anything, but I wanted to get the hell away from there.

It didn’t help that Steven showed up out of the blue, trying to act like the caring boyfriend he wasn’t.

Once he left my room, I went back to trying to figure out who saved me.

All I can remember from last night is big, brown, beautiful, and soul-deep eyes staring up at me.

I swear, right before I woke up in the back of the ambulance, I heard someone whisper in my ear and press their lips to mine.

But that couldn’t be the truth. Someone might have been talking to me, trying to get me to wake up, but why would someone kiss me?

Before leaving the hospital last night, I tried to see if anyone else had been brought in from the fire.

But no one would give me any information.

While searching for those brown eyes, I saw Steven lying in a bed, a nurse fussing over his broken wrists.

The wrists that weren’t broken when he left my room earlier.

On instinct, I started toward his room to check on him, but when his eyes filled with fear, I corrected myself and left.

Whatever happened to him wasn’t any of my business, and I had more important things to worry about, like my building, my tenants, and figuring out who saved me. Because someone did, I fucking know it.

“Shawn O’Dell Foster! Open this door right this second.”

My mother’s frantic voice coming from the other side of the front door lights another fire under my ass.

Stepping around the bags of clothes I bought early this morning, I unlock the front door.

It flies open so fast that I barely have time to step out of the way before it smacks me in my face.

My mother rushes through the open door, throws her arms around my middle, and buries her face in my chest.

“Whoa. What’s wrong?” My heart is frantically beating at the thought of something being wrong with anyone in my family. The fact that I’ve only had about three hours of sleep doesn’t help my brain figure out that she is clearly upset with me. But Mom quickly remedies that.

“What’s wrong?!” Mom shrieks and smacks my back.

I groan because I’m sore everywhere. “What’s wrong is that I had to find out from your employee that you were almost killed in a fire last night.

Then, when I called the hospital, they refused to give me any information because, and I quote, ‘Ma’am, your son is an adult.

We cannot give out any information without his consent.

’ They wouldn’t even tell me if you were there. ”

“Oh shit. I’m sorry, Mom. My phone was in the apartment?—”

“You were in the apartment,” she starts crying, and I feel like the biggest asshole. Even though it hurts, I tighten my grip on her, trying to help control the way her body is shaking with each sob that is torn from her.

The hospital asked if there was anyone they could call, but I didn’t want to worry Mom.

She had just gotten back from visiting Sammy.

Plus, I was fine. It wasn’t like I was hurt.

I meant to pick up a new phone when I was out this morning, but I completely forgot about it.

Luckily, I fell asleep with my wallet in my pocket, so I didn’t have to replace my ID or bank cards.

“I’m fine,” I say, pulling her closer. Using my foot to shut the door, I pull her closer as she continues to cry. “Shhh, Mom, it’s okay. I promise I’m good. I’m just going to be sore for a little while and have a sore throat for a few days.”

Mom pulls out of my arms and starts running her hands over my face, neck, and arms. It is as if she is checking for injuries herself.

Juliet Foster is short but mighty. She might only be five foot five, just like Sammy, but when she’s pissed, you would think she was six foot four like me.

Her blue eyes are rimmed red, drowning in so much worry that it breaks my heart.

She touches the cut on my forehead before sliding her hands down to the one from Steven.

At least I can easily tell her that I got both of them trying to get out.

If Sammy, Dylan, and Zak keep their mouths shut, that is.

“I was so scared. I went to the gym looking for you, and the receptionist looked at me with a sad look. I just knew deep in my soul that something was wrong. She said there was a fire, and I just ran out of there, not listening to anything else she said.”

“I should have called. I apologize. I knew you got in late last night, and I didn’t want to worry you since I was okay,” I say, grabbing her hand and leading her to the couch. “How did you know where I was?”

When I was ready to leave, the nurses called me a cab, and I went straight home to get my car.

Luckily, my laptop was sitting in the front seat, making it easy to find a place to stay on Airbnb after a quick stop at McDonald's to use their internet.

After I told the owner of this house what had happened, they understood my need to be let in so early.

They met me at five this morning, handed me the keys, and even gave me a discount.

“I saw your car parked outside,” Mom says, leaning into me like she fears I will disappear if she isn’t touching me. “What the hell happened?”

I shrug my shoulders and proceed to tell her everything that happened, including the stranger who risked his life to save mine.

I try to sugarcoat that had he not seen me, I wouldn’t be here, but of course, she saw right through it.

That caused another round of tears and her verbal thanking of the man’s presence.

I won’t know what caused the fire until the investigation is complete.

I’m sure it will be ruled an accident, or at least I hope so.

“What’s his name?” Mom asks, leaning back against the couch’s arm and finally relaxing.

“I don’t know, but I will find him.” I don’t tell her that the more I think about it, the more I worry that I made him up.

Because I hope that isn’t the truth. My first call this morning is going to be the fire station that responded, and then the police.

If someone else was there last night, they have to know.

I’m sure there will be a name in a report.

“Yes, we will. We owe that man so much more than a thank you. Oh, by the way, I?—”

Mom’s sentence is cut off by a ping of her phone and the sound of someone running up the stairs leading to the front door.

A loud sigh falls from my lips as my eyes close.

I know those stomps, so I brace myself for the tornado heading my way.

The front door slams open, and my little sister storms in, tears streaming down her face.

It will do me no good to say anything or get up, so I just open my arms and wait.

“I’m fucking pissed at you,” Sammy yells, but just like Mom, she rushes into my arms, and I pull her close. I stroke her wild blonde hair and whisper that I’m sorry and that I’m okay.

The tornado of pissed-off people isn’t done, so I just wait. Then they all come one by one through the door. All with their eyes trained on me and anger rolling off them, thickening the air around us.

“A fucking fire—” Zak says, storming in, holding a crying Dylan in his arms. Her face is buried in his neck, and I know she won’t look at me, even if I try to get her to. I scared her, and that makes me feel like the worst uncle in the world.

“And you didn’t think—” Parker–my other best friend–says, stopping beside Zak.

“To call any of—” Emilee, Parker’s wife and my cousin, says through tears as she crosses the room to sit beside me and throws her arms around me.

“Your family, you—” Levi, Emilee’s younger brother, says.

I wish Levi signaled the end of people who are mad at me, but of course, he isn’t.

“Asshole,” Adam, Emilee’s older brother, finishes the sentence. What the fuck? Did they all plan to say a part of the same sentence? If not, it’s awe-inspiring and scary at the same time.

But Adam isn’t the last one to walk through my door, hurt by my actions.

No, Sonny and Sandra are standing side by side, holding hands.

Sonny’s eyes are narrowed on my face, looking disappointed and relieved simultaneously.

Sandra is crying with relief. Roger, Sandra’s husband, walks up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist.

Carly, Adam’s pregnant wife, and Tiffani, Levi’s wife, are the last two through the front door.

They close the door and calmly walk toward us.

“I see you are okay,” Carly says. Nodding is all I can do thanks to the emotions clogging my throat.

Every member of my family, minus our Nana, Leon, and Jenna, dropped everything they were doing this morning because of me. Because of their love for me.

“Good. Then, when we all whoop your ass, it won’t hurt you that much,” Tiffani says, putting her hands on her hips.

This apartment is on the small side, but everyone finds a place to sit, whether on the floor or in dining chairs.

Seeing as how Sammy still has a death grip on my shirt, I settle against the couch, taking a deep breath.

I only tell them about the fire because it’s too embarrassing to tell them about Steven.

Once I’m done, Dylan is the first one to speak up.

“Were you scared?” Dylan asks, still sitting on Zak’s lap but finally looking at me.

“Yes,” I admit.