Rekindle (6 page)

“I know. I was just getting the rundown from Tanner. They gotta find this fucker soon, before worse damage is done,” I tell Micah as we head in to check all of our equipment for the day.

Micah nods in agreement as we start our routine.

The day seemed to be moving along rather smoothly. I guess I should learn to never get comfortable or think that we’re going to have a good day. Just five minutes ago, we were called to the scene of an accident. Not just any accident—a tragic one. Drunk driver falls asleep at the wheel and veers into oncoming traffic, hitting a mom in a minivan.

By the time we arrive, there are already three police cars and an ambulance there. There is no time for thinking as we all jump and go to work, praying to God that we can do enough to keep these people alive.

Luke and I rush to the lady in the minivan, who seems to be trapped inside and not in very good condition from what I can see. Micah and the rest of the crew rush over to the truck with the drunk driver inside.

“Ma’am, ma’am, can you hear me? Do you understand what I’m saying to you?” I ask the lady in the car. I need to see if she’s coherent enough to understand me. While I’m checking on her, Luke is busy trying to figure out how we can go about getting her out of this tin can.

She gasps from the pain but gives a slight nod of her head. “Ma’am, my name is Rhett, and this guy here is Luke. We’re here to get you out of this car, okay? I need you to do one thing for me, okay? I need you stay calm and try your best not to move. No matter what is going on, please try to stay as still as possible,” I say to her, my voice steady and holding as much calmness as I can muster. I see Luke mouth that we’re going to need the jaws to cut her out, and I walk out of hearing range so he can tell me what’s going on without terrifying her.

“Man, it’s jammed tight; there is no way to get it open without using the jaws. She’s crushed in there. I’m gonna go fill in the paramedic. You just sit with her real quick and talk. Try to keep her heart rate as steady as possible. And Rhett,” he calls out to me. “Don’t let her go to sleep.”

I nod my head and take a deep breath to control the emotions running through me.

This is the part I hate about my job. I try and steady my breathing as I walk back around to her side of the van. As I round the back of the van, I see the remnants of a stick-family decal on the now cracked glass of her back window: two kids and a husband. I close my eyes and hope like hell we can save this woman’s life. She deserves to live. As I make it back to her window, I reach in and grab her hand.

“Ma’am, can you tell me your name?”

“M—Melinda” she says, barely audible, blood splattering the corner of her mouth.

“Melinda, my friend Luke is going to use what we call the Jaws of Life to cut and pry this door open, so we can get you out and get you to a hospital so the doctors can patch you up, alright? It’s going to be really loud and scary, but I will be here every step of the way, okay? It sounds worse than it really is, but the quicker we get you outta here, the better.” She gives a barely noticeable nod and I give them the go-ahead.

I can see the pain and fear written across her face, and in that moment I’m powerless. I try my best to keep eye contact with her. Her pained whimpers come more and more frequently as they start opening up the side of the car. I glance up and see the guy who caused the accident walking—
walking
—to the ambulance. I don’t understand this. This beautiful young wife and mother is here, trapped in her worst nightmare, and he’s just walking away, unfazed. The unfairness of it all causes a fit of rage to flare deep in my chest. I look back at Melinda and I see the light dying out in her eyes, just as they get the side of the car opened enough to get her out. Paramedics swarm in and I stand there motionless. They put her on the gurney after securing her neck, and I see her hand reach out. I grab it and run with the paramedic. She needs to know she’s not alone in this moment. They load her up, and I see them putting a breathing mask and a blood pressure cup on her. All I can think is,
Fight, please fight
. That’s when I hear them: She’s coding. I need the paddles. It’s the last thing I hear as they pull away.

I’m lying in my bunk at the firehouse, hours later, trying to purge the images of the accident from my mind, when Micah walks in.

“Rhett, man, are you okay?” Micah asks, his question soaked with concern.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. It just never gets easier. No matter what we see, no matter what we have to do, it never fucking gets easier.”

“Brother, Sgt. Bullard called and said they got Melinda stabilized. She’s got a long road ahead of her, but she’s going to be okay. I thought you’d want to know,” Micah tells me.

“Thank fuck for that. She’s too young to be stripped away from her family like that.”

I’m so glad to hear she’ll make a full recovery. Her kids will have their mother, and her husband won’t be making funeral arrangements anytime soon. I’m not sure why this weighed so heavy on my heart. Some people just stick out more than others. Maybe it was the look in her eyes. Who knows? But one thing’s for certain; this life is full of surprises. You never know when the person you love will be stripped away from you, and dammit, I need to talk to Emma immediately. She needs to know that even though we’ve been apart for all these years, that I still feel a connection to her—a pull, so to speak. Like gravity itself wants me near her.

Chapter Nine

Emma Grace

“Mmhmm,” I mumble into the phone. No one who calls someone at…five forty-five in the morning deserves a proper greeting. It’s way too early for pleasantries.

“M?” Rhett’s questioning voice brings me out of my slumber and into a semi-awake state.

“Rhett? Hey. Are you okay?” It’s been three days since I’ve seen or talked to him, other than the occasional text, so a phone call before six on a Thursday has me a bit worried.

I hear him blow out a breath, and I’m met with silence again. “Rhett, you’re worrying me. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“God, M. It was just a shitty night at work. I wasn’t even thinking about how early it was. We just wrapped up everything a few hours ago and my first thought was that I needed to talk to you. And you’re probably still asleep. Shit. I’m sorry, I’ll let you go.” He’s flustered and rambling. I can picture him pacing and running his hand through his hair.

“I’m good, Rhett. I’m up and at ‘em. Don’t worry about that. Tell me what’s going on. What happened at work?” I sit up in bed and get comfortable. I’ll forego sleep if it means he’ll be a little less tortured over whatever happened tonight. I can only imagine how his job can take a toll on him physically, mentally, and emotionally.

“There was this wreck that we had to respond to. It was just awful. This poor woman—and she was a mom, M. And the kid who hit her, just careless. He’d been drinking and just—boom. In an instant everything changes. She was so scared. I could see it written all over her face. And she was in pain. They cut her out and she coded in the ambulance. She’s stable now, but for a minute there I thought about her kids were losing their mom. Her husband.
Fuck
. I don’t even know. I mean, I see stuff—ugly stuff that people should never see. And I’m okay. I can deal with it most of the time. And then you have these people who just… God, it just hits you in the gut, ya know? It’s my job to
help
. I’m there to
save
them. And there was nothing I could do. Not one damn thing. That feeling of helplessness just sucks, M.” His words are a jumbled mess, like he can’t get his thoughts together. Who could blame him though? He wasn’t lying about having a shitty night.

“Rhett McCoy, you aren’t helpless! Sometimes situations are beyond your control, and all you can do is manage the chaos. I have no doubt in my mind that you did everything you could to make sure this woman felt comfort and peace. And there are times when that’s the only thing you can do—just be there.” I try and soothe his frazzled nerves, but I don’t know what to say to make it better or take away the doubt in his mind that he isn’t doing the job that he’s expected to do.

“You’re right. I know you are. I think I just needed to get it out there. I love my job, but there are times where it just hits you—how fragile life is. How much you need to focus on the important things instead of the day-to-day bullshit that goes on all around us, and the first thing I thought about was how I needed to hear your voice.”

His words strike me silent. I’m not sure what his words mean, or how to respond to him. Being the first thing he thought of, the first person he wanted to talk to, thrills me. I know what I
want
his words to mean, but at the same time, we’re just rekindling a friendship that was torn apart years ago. We were kids when that happened, and so much has changed. I’m not the same person I was fifteen years ago, and he isn’t either. Jumping head first into anything would be stupid.

“So—” he breaks the silence from my moment of spacing out “—got any big plans for tonight?”

“Actually, I’ve got a date with—”

“A
what
?” he asks, cutting me off mid-sentence. He sounds a little pissed, and it occurs to me what I just said, but if he would have waited for me to finish my sentence, this wouldn’t even be a discussion.

“A date, Rhett. Where two people go somewhere together to enjoy each other’s company.” I’m snippy and I know it, but assumptions make me crazy.

“I’m well aware of what a date is, Emma Grace. What I am not aware of is who you are going on a date with.” Oh. Hell. No. Is he playing Mr. Domineering with me?

“Are you playing Mr. Domineering with me?” Shit. Word vomit. Again.

“Domineering, no. Not yet, anyway. Concerned as to why another man is taking you out, yes.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Rhett, I’m all grown up. And I can make big-girl decisions about who I spend my time with all by myself.”

“Trust me, I’ve noticed you’re all grown up, Emma Grace. I noticed it about a million times the other night. I noticed it so much that it struck me stupid. Which is why I neglected to ask you out on a proper date Monday night. A problem I was trying to rectify this morning. Hence the reason I am none too happy that you seem to already have plans with someone else.”

Oh, well, when he puts it that way….

“I have a date with Cam to get pedicures tonight. We try to go every other week, but we haven’t been in a while, so we planned to go tonight. So you can tone the macho-man talk down a bit, sir,” I reply with a smile in my voice.

“Jesus fuck, M! Why didn’t you tell me that to begin with?”

“Calm your tits, mister!
You
cut
me
off in the middle of my sentence and made an assumption, so technically, your pissed-off-ness is not my fault.”

“My pissed-off-ness?” He’s laughing now. Apparently he has stowed Mr. Alpha-male away for a while.

“It’s too early to correct my vocabulary. Shut it.”

“Well, since tonight is a bust—what are your plans for tomorrow night?”

“Umm, laundry?” I really do need to do laundry.

“Laundry can wait. Come out with me, M.”

“Aren’t we all getting together Saturday?” I question him.

“Well, yeah. But I wanted you to myself for a little while.”

“Well, okay then.” I respond, a little taken aback by his forward nature.

“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven. Have a great day, M&M.” I can hear the smile in his voice.

“You too, Rhett.” I hang up the phone, surprised by how quickly my morning has changed. And then I glance at my clock. Shit. I’m late. A-freaking-gain!

Rhett

Well, I just made myself look like a complete ass. I had no intention of losing my shit like that, but she told me she had a date.
Ha
, over my dead body would anyone fucking take her out on a date. She is damn lucky I didn’t just hang up the phone and drive my ass to her house. Now, that would have been borderline creepy, but I was literally barely holding on to my self-control at that point. This girl has been back in my life just a few days, and I’ve already managed to get the whole caveman act down to a T. I can’t be calm and I can’t control myself. These feelings I have for her are absolutely overtaking all of my senses. She’s all I can think of. I smell her. I see her. No matter where I’m at. No matter what I’m doing. I feel kind of like I’m growing a pussy. So much so, I have to reach down and make sure my dick is still there in all its manly glory. Men should not think like this. Not to this level anyway. I’m really questioning my manhood.