“That’s it, my friend, hang on,” Eve whispered, smoothing back his raven hair.
There were no joyous cries, no relieved faces. He wasn’t responding as they’d hoped. Cori knew the survival rate on revived drowning victims wasn’t good, and during nursing school, she’d known a handful of them to come into the ER during her required rotations. More than half hadn’t made it. Knight wasn’t out of the woods by a long shot.
“He’s breathing, but his pulse is too weak,” Tanner said as he and Salvatore lifted the backboard and Zack onto the gurney. “Salvatore, you’re the acting FAO.”
A ripple of shock seemed to bolt through the assembled group at this announcement, but they recovered quickly. Cori wondered what on earth an FAO was and guessed the title used to belong to Zack. Poor man.
“Six-Pack, ride in my place on the quint. I’m going with Knight, and Eve’s driving. Let’s get him rolling! Go, go!”
“Sterling’s the closest,” Eve said, expression tense. She looked at Cori. “I recommend you get checked at the hospital. You can go with one of the officers and make your statement, or we can transport you in the ambulance with Knight, but we can’t just leave you stranded here.”
“I’ll ride with Zack,” she replied firmly. At Sterling, she could keep tabs on the man’s condition through the doctors and nurses she’d soon be working with. A no brainer.
“Could get rough.”
Meaning, her rescuer could still die. The emotional consequences didn’t bear thinking about. “Rough is what I do best.” The woman had no idea.
Zack was strapped in, ready to go. Eve and Tanner quickly slid the gurney into the waiting ambulance. The others sprinted for the quint, where they’d follow Knight to the emergency room. The cops and another engine company would handle the remaining mess out here.
Tanner climbed in the back of the ambulance. Cori scrambled in after him, taking the opposite seat. Eve slammed the back doors shut, and Cori winced inwardly at the ominous sound.
As the vehicle began to move, Tanner laid a hand on Zack’s shoulder. Sorrow and regret swam in his green eyes. “I’m sorry, Zack,” he said hoarsely. “Please forgive me.”
Cori’s throat burned as she lowered her gaze so the man wouldn’t see how his words affected her. What had happened between them for Zack to forgive?
She studied her rescuer’s pale face, painfully aware of the faint blip of his heartbeat on the monitor. Fighting for his life.
The ultimate price of selfless courage.
This morning, Zack had been a stranger. A nuisance who’d caused her an inconvenience. Now he was a hero.
No. A man like Zack was a hero every day of his life. She’d just been too blind to notice.
Oh, God, she had some apologizing of her own to do.
She only prayed he lived to hear it.
Eyes closed, coat wrapped tightly around her body, Cori huddled in a corner of the ER’s waiting room, trying to stave off an unearthly chill from more than just her wet clothing.
“She’s so upset,” Eve murmured quietly to her companion in the opposite corner of the room.
But not quietly enough. Cori knew she should sit up, let them know their conversation wasn’t private, but she was too tired and heartsick to care.
Salvatore snorted. “You would be, too, if the cops claimed some asshole tried to murder you.”
Possible attempted murder.
The police officer’s stunning, impossible words returned with a vengeance. Made her curl into a tighter ball, wishing she could disappear.
God help them all if her brother found out.
“Allegedly. Could’ve been random.”
“Either way, the deal sucks.”
“You’re so eloquent, Salvatore.” Cori pictured the woman rolling her eyes.
Ignoring the gibe, Salvatore sighed. “We should tell her what the doc reported about Zack. No point in her waiting around if she’s not going to get to see him anytime soon.”
News of Zack roused her to sit up and look around. The other firefighters were haunting the hallway off the waiting room. She blinked at the approaching pair. Their faces were solemn, guarded. Salvatore spoke first.
“Ms. Shannon—”
“Cori, please.”
He nodded. “Cori. I’m Julian. We know you’ve been waiting for word about Zack, so we wanted to let you know what the doctor said. He’s stable, but hasn’t regained consciousness.”
“He’s got brain activity,” Eve said, trying to sound positive. “We won’t know whether he sustained brain damage or the extent until he wakes up.”
Their grim expressions mirrored the curl of dread in Cori’s gut. Her rescuer, reduced to a vegetable. The tragic loss didn’t bear consideration.
“What about his head?” The blow he took to his face wasn’t a concern to be taken lightly.
“His skull isn’t cracked, but his cheekbone is,” Julian said. “There’s swelling and deep bruising, but that will heal fine. The real threat is a bad case of pneumonia clogging his lungs.”
“What! How’d he get sick so fast?” A ripple of fear went through her. People of all ages died of pneumonia. But the infection could swiftly overcome a victim of a near drowning.
Julian ran a hand through his black hair. “Zack was already ill and kept it from everyone.”
Cori sat up straighter. “Zack could still die.” A conclusion, not a question.
A flash of pain darkened his eyes. “We’re hoping for the best. He’s on massive doses of antibiotics and being monitored closely. His chances are good.”
“I know. I’m a nurse . . . or I will be in May. Thanks to your friend.” Her lips trembled and she brushed at an escaped tear, but held it together.
Julian tried to sound reassuring, bless him. “I’m sure you’ll be a good one, and you’ll get your chance to thank Zack. In the meantime, why don’t you go home and get some rest? You know the drill. He won’t be allowed visitors for a while yet.”
“No, I’ll wait a bit longer, see if there are any new developments. I appreciate your concern, and for filling me in on his condition.”
The pair in front of her knew a firm dismissal when they heard one. Cori hadn’t grown up in a house full of stubborn, overbearing brothers to learn nothing.
Julian’s lips curved into a small smile. “No problem. We—”
The crackle of his and Eve’s radios interrupted the conversation. The dispatcher relayed another traffic accident, the freezing rain taking its toll, and getting worse.
“Here’s my card,” he said, digging one out of his breast pocket. “My cell phone’s listed. If you hear something before we get back, would you—”
“You got it,” Cori replied, snatching the card. “Go on.”
“Thank you.”
He and Eve hurried for the exit, joining Tanner and the others. In two seconds, they were gone.
Cori stared at the nearly empty waiting room, discomfited by the tomblike silence left in the wake of their departure. The picture was no longer complete and she couldn’t help but wonder at the sudden sense of loss. As though she’d sort of bonded with them over Zack’s near tragedy, and now she was alone to endure the unnerving wait.
Alone.
Her brows furrowed. Where was Zack’s family? None of the firefighters had mentioned anyone, but his loved ones were probably rushing to get here and worried sick about him.
“Corrine? How’s your head?”
Startled from her musings, Cori looked up at the young Asian doctor she’d seen speaking with the firefighters a couple of times since Zack had been brought in. She’d worked with him on rotation, though she didn’t know him well. He hadn’t treated her, but his colleague had obviously filled him in.
“Tylenol saves the day.” She gave him a weak smile.
“Any dizziness? Blurred vision?”
“No, I’m fine. I’ve got a hard head.” She didn’t want to talk about herself. “I know I’m not family, but . . . can you tell me how Zack is doing? The man saved my life,” she added when the doctor hesitated.
Just when she thought he wasn’t going to answer, he did, with some reluctance. “Mr. Knight is in ICU, still critical. He can have one visitor at a time, but I see his friends had to leave. Would you like to sit with him?”
“Yes! I would, very much.” Glancing around, she frowned. “I don’t want to intrude on his family’s time with him. Surely there’s
someone
here by now?”
“No, there isn’t. There won’t be.” The doctor’s eyes filled with compassion—and regret. “I understand Knight doesn’t have any family.”
Zack wanted to stay dead, but nobody would let him.
No matter how hard he strained toward oblivion in a desperate bid to escape the fire licking his entire body, the awful, suffocating pressure on his chest, they—whoever
they
were—pulled him back from the edge.
Let me go. God, please, make them let me go.
God wasn’t listening. Neither were
they
.
Stick a fork in good ole Zack, ’cause he was done. He refused to survive this hell one more second. Somehow, he’d find a way out—
“Zack? Can you hear me?”
Miraculously, the chaos in his brain quieted. Her voice again. Low, throaty, and lovely. Familiar. Who was she?
The woman didn’t want him to leave this world, and his lack of cooperation was getting to her. Every time she spoke, her emotions battered his resolve. Worry, frustration . . . guilt.
And he should care, why? Who was she to him?
“Come on, fireboy,” she pleaded, soft as a caress. “You can’t die on me. I’ve weathered a lot of crap, but not this. I can’t do it. I’m the one who’s supposed to be dead, not you. Zack,
please
.”
Aw, fuck. That gurgling sound was his plan for a graceful swan song going down the toilet.
Damsels in distress had always been his downfall—in this case, literally, it would seem. Christ. He couldn’t wrap his mind around what had happened, but apparently, he was neck deep in some badass shit.
“I’m sorry I was rude to you—even though you hit me.”
Appalled, he scrambled to make sense of that. He’d never hit anyone in his life, especially a woman!
“I mean, you
did
save my bacon. Went a tad overboard, too, if you ask me.” She gave a tremulous laugh. “No pun intended. Work with me here, will you?”
Saved her life . . .
He struggled to remember. Caught flashes of water. Freezing cold.
Can’t breathe.
The not-breathing part wasn’t just a memory, either. An elephant must be parked on his chest. Matched nicely with his screaming muscles and throbbing head.
God Almighty, why couldn’t he just—
Soft sniffles interrupted his black thoughts. Muffled sounds of . . . weeping.
Damn, she was crying.
Over me?
Curiosity finally won over self-pity. He wasn’t going to die anytime soon—oh, goody—so he might as well try to put an end to the waterworks and the red-hot poker French-frying his brain cells.
And the odd stab in the center of his chest that had nothing to do with illness.
Zack licked his lips. “Hey.” Unfortunately, the word emerged as a great imitation of a cat hawking up a hair ball. All he managed to accomplish was possibly rupturing a lung in the ensuing fit of coughing.
“Zack? Easy, there. You’re going to be all right.”
The warm hand on his arm and the slender fingers stroking his hair went a long way toward bringing him back to the living. Nice.
The band around his chest loosened and he made an attempt to open his eyes. Success took a couple of tries, but then, he had the best of motivators. He
really
wanted to get a good look at his guardian angel. Blinking to clear his vision, he wondered why his eyeballs felt like they were coated with sand.
Turning his head, he peered at the woman sitting beside him. Slowly, her blurry image came into better focus, though still a little fuzzy around the edges. Where were his glasses?
That fleeting concern quickly gave way to amazement as he recognized the amber-eyed beauty with the honey brown hair. Yeah, even with her eyes red-rimmed and her hair disheveled, the lady was a knockout.
“Cori? What . . .” He swallowed hard, fighting off another bout of coughing as he stared at her.
“Thank God, you’re awake! You’re in the hospital, Zack. You sure know how to scare your friends, you know that?
Everyone
has been waiting for you to come around. Hang on, I’m going to get Dr. Chu.”
“Wait—”
Cori hurried out the door before Zack could protest. Her sudden departure left him feeling cut adrift in a sea of confusion. Would she come back? He hoped so. Her touch had been . . . more than comforting. Deeper, somehow.
The doctor bustled in, beaming and exclaiming how lucky Zack was after drowning, then almost succumbing to pneumonia.
What?
Christ, no wonder he felt like dog crap.