Page 6 of All of Me

I took an even breath, picked the nearest bucket up, filled it and ran. Faster and faster until I knew all anyone would see was a blur. The biggest delay was in scooping the water into the buckets, but I knew no one else could do this. Throwing a single bucket of water at an accelerant-based fire wouldn’t do shit, so I pushed on.

“Shae!” The bellow from Drake slowed me enough that I didn’t take him out as he stepped right in front of me, but the bucket I was carrying went flying, and I followed it. I was on my feet again in a second.

“Shae, stop! It’s out. Juststop.” I took in the house just as I heard the sirens, then the pain in my chest hit me like someone had just shoved a burning poker in between my ribs, and I passed out.

I recognized the perfume before I registered the slim hand holding mine and opened my eyes to meet Pink’s worried brown ones. She reached over and smoothed my hair from my forehead. “Shae, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

I glanced to the other side of the room and took in Drake leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest, glaring at me.

Oops.I remembered what I’d done, but before I could work out what to say the door opened and a guy in scrubs walked in, followed by Diesel. “Mr. Turner, I’m Doctor Sanchez. Nice to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

I mentally reviewed my body. No pain. Not sure ifdumb asswas the answer he was looking for, so I just nodded. “I’m fine.” My hand went to my nose, and I felt the plastic tubing.

The doc reached over and unhooked them. “Your oxygen stats are good. Just a precaution.”

“What about his heart?” Diesel demanded. I yanked my hand away from Pink’s. Had I fucked it up for good this time?

“I sent the test results we did this morning to Doctor Brown at Piedmont Health who has all his previous results. He’d like to have you transferred as we don’t have a cardiac MRI here, so—”

“No,” I blurted out. No way was I going to another hospital. No

“Shae,” Pink tried to retake my hand, sounding worried.

I still didn’t dare look at Drake. “I have an appointment in three weeks.”

Doc Sanchez frowned. “I think three weeks is a little far out.”

I glanced at Drake. “I want to go home. I understand if the job’s not happening now, so I can just go to my apartment.” What time was it? Did I even have time to get to my shift at Dave’s?

Drake met my gaze silently, then pushed off the wall. “You’re coming home with me. You can still have the job if you agree to see the doc as soon as he can fit you in next week.”

I nodded eagerly. Anything.

The doc sighed. “You’ll have to sign paperwork to say you’re discharging yourself against medical advice.”

I held my hand out as if someone was going to put a pen in it and the doc huffed. “I’ll send someone in.”

I waited until the door closed. “What about the guy you caught?” I wanted to know but I also wanted to distract them.

Diesel grunted. “Cops have identified him as Lee Dodson. Petty shit. He’s not saying a word and he got lawyered up right away, and not a public defender. We’re checking that out as well.”

I turned back to Drake. “I guess it would suit Ryan if the house burned down.” A flash of humor I hoped was mixed with respect shone in his green eyes.

“We’re waiting to see if the perp gets released,” Diesel said. “Then we might have questions of our own.”

Pink rolled her eyes but nodded to a small suitcase by the wall. “I brought you some more of your things.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. She’dboughtme all my “things.” But I took in her pale face and felt like shit for stressing her out. She was too young to act like my mom, but she made a fantastic bossy older sister, and I knew she loved me. This time I was the one who reached for her hand. “Sorry I worried you again,” I whispered, my throat tight. She stood and brushed a kiss on my cheek. “I’ll wait outside while you get dressed.”

It took another hour until we were in Drake’s truck, the silence getting more oppressive by the mile, but I refused to apologize. If I’d gotten a do-over I would have done the same.

“What’s the damage?”

“To you or the house?” he snapped back.

“You’re not responsible for me,” I said, more calmly than I felt.

“Well, someone fucking needs to be,” he roared.

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