Page 95 of Keep Me Safe

“Kira, I’m here. Where are you?”

I should have called him in the ambulance.

“We’re at the hospital,” I say softly. “He’s okay, at least I think he is. Jared, he—”

“I’m on my way,” he says before hanging up.

I push away the hurt of that action. He has the right to be angry with me.

“Kira?” an older man asks. With his stout frame and sandy gray hair, he looks familiar. Where do I know him from?

“I’m Al, Noah’s boss, for now at least,” he explains. “Jeff told me you’d be here.”

Right, Al, the fire commissioner. He sits down on the chair next to me, and I’m sure I look like a mess, my face puffy from crying.

“He’s going to be okay, you know,” he soothes, his hand resting on my shoulder. I nod, forcing myself to believe him.

“Do you know anything about Dave? Is he okay? And the woman?”

“The woman seemed okay when they took her. She was badlyburned but conscious. Dave, on the other hand… Let’s just say he’s in worse shape than Noah.”

“But, he’s alive?”

Al bobs his head and sighs. “He wouldn’t be without Noah.”

“Jesus, Kira,” Jared’s voice is filled with concern as he rushes over to me. I stand, unsure if I should hug him, but he beats me to it, pulling me to his chest. I inhale his comforting scent, my nerves immediately calming.

I sniffle, trying to keep the tears at bay. I need to be here for Jared, not the other way around. Wiping my cheeks, I back away, looking up at him.

“They’re checking him out right now. They said they’d tell me when we could go back and see him.”

Jared doesn’t respond as he sits across from us.

“I’m going to check on Dave. Let me know if we get any updates,” Al says, gesturing to my phone in my hand. He gave me his number so we could keep in touch.

We wait for what feels like hours, and I am all too aware of my surroundings.

Jared’s knee bouncing relentlessly, machines beeping in distant rooms, and the ticking of the clock all add to my anxiety.

The tension between us grows by the second, and it’s getting to the point where I can’t take it anymore.

“Jared,” I start, needing to clear the air.

“Not right now,” he says, his jaw tightening. His usual easy-going demeanor is replaced with a coldness that I’m not used to from him.

“Please, let me explain,” I beg.

“Miss Williams?” a doctor calls from the doorway.

I shoot up, wasting no time as I rush toward him.

“Is he okay?” I ask as Jared steps up behind me. My chest pounds as I wait for his response.

“Yes, he’s going to be fine. He has a sprained wrist, a concussion, and he inhaled a lot of smoke, but he should be good to go home tomorrow.”

I let out a breath, my hand on my chest.

“When can we see him?” Jared asks.

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