Page 62 of Jolene's Justice

He called out to her again. Not waiting for an answer, he turned the knob and pushed, meeting some resistance. He strained to push the door open, but the hunks of material wedged underneath made it difficult. He pushed harder until it was open wide enough for him to crawl through.

The sight of her red hair on the floor by the desk made his heart skip a beat. “Jolie,” he bellowed once more. She didn’t stir.

He crawled to her with his heart in his throat. Clad only in a sports bra, she appeared almost ghostly, her skin paler than usual. The smoke from the fire had left dark smudges on her face. He could see the tracks of her tears through it. She lay prone under the window. A large metal stapler sat just out of reach next to her. As he crawled to her, he strained his burning eyes to see if she was breathing. He willed her chest to move but couldn’t see anything.

Approaching her side, he reached out a trembling hand to feel for a pulse. A rush of air escaped his lungs in relief as he felt it, faint but there. He started coughing as he reached for her. There was no time to waste. He had to get her out of there . . . now.

He couldn’t crawl and carry her at the same time, so he gathered her in his arms and stood. Crouching as low as he could to avoid the worst of the smoke, he ran out of the room, calling for the other guys. The flames were licking away at the end of the hall. If he had been any later, it would have been too late to reach her. A painful tightening in his gut accompanied the unwelcome thought.

Ox and Evan crawled out of the other rooms and waited for him to run past. He burst out the door, coughing and gasping for breath in the refreshingly clean air. The fire engines were roaring to a stop as he kept running through the lot, getting Jolene as far away from the smoke and fire as he could. Spotting an ambulance just arriving, he made a beeline for it, calling out for help.

Firefighters scrambled out of the trucks, and chaos erupted around him, but he only had eyes for the precious bundle in his arms. An EMT noticed him and pulled a gurney out of the back, then indicated for Finch to lay her down on it. There was a flurry of activity around her, and he was forcefully but gently shoved out of the way.

He watched them work on her with his heart in his throat. She had to be okay. He had come too far and endured too much. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her now.

Another EMT was trying to put an oxygen mask on him, but he shooed them away. “Focus on her.”

A large hand clamped his shoulder. “Let them help you, too. You won’t be any good to her,” Ox said in his gravelly voice, “if you can’t breathe.”

As if to indicate his point, Finch was racked with a coughing fit. “Fine,” he admitted reluctantly, allowing the EMT to place the mask.

Coughing from the gurney caught his attention. He tore the oxygen mask off and rushed to Jolene’s side, barely hearing the sigh of exasperation from the EMT behind him.

The guys working on her must have realized there was no way they were keeping him away from her any longer, since they made room for him at her side. He clasped her hand in his, careful not to dislodge the IV in the back of her hand.

“Jolie.” He breathed her name. Her eyes popped open and fixed on him. The jade green swimming in tears was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. He leaned over her and cupped her cheek, careful not to dislodge her oxygen mask.

Her hand trembled as she reached out to him. Her fingers brushed something away from his cheek and that’s when he realized he was crying.

“I’m okay,” she rasped, then coughed uncontrollably.

He grabbed her hand and held it to his lips. “Don’t try to talk. Just rest.”

A tear of her own slipped out, and he caught it before it could steal into her hairline while she lay on the gurney. As he kissed her fingers, he looked deeply into her eyes, silently promising that everything would be all right. More tears slipped out, but this time, he let them fall. He’d keep holding her however he could—even if it was just her hand—while she let her emotions out. He’d hold her forever if need be.

A scream rent the air, startling all of them. A sudden rustling from the crowd that had gathered to watch drew his attention to the other side of the street. A woman was pushing her way through the people, screaming obscenities.

“No! She has to die! Why? Why can’t she die?” She broke free of the crowd, her focus on Jolene. There was a crazed and intense hatred in her expression as she tried to make a beeline for them. Finch quickly moved to the other side of the gurney, determined to protect Jolene from the woman who, by this time, had whipped out a gun. She let off a few shots, and everybody scurried to safety, but Finch held his ground. She’d have to go through him to get to her.

Suddenly, the woman tripped over something and fell flat on her face. The gun skittered from her hand and across the pavement. Police officers came out of nowhere and converged on the woman who lay sobbing on the ground.

“Whoops. My bad,” Sophie said with a shrug.

Evan chuckled and threw his arm over his girlfriend’s shoulder. “You tripped her?”

She turned not so innocent eyes on him. “Would you believe me if I told you it was an accident?”

Evan’s smile grew as he shook his head. “Not a chance.”

Jolene’s laugh quickly turned into a hacking cough. After the cough passed, Jolene slumped back on the gurney, exhausted. Finch moved back to where he’d been before the attack and took her hand back in his.

The police had cuffed the woman and hauled her to her feet. Jolene gasped, but this time it wasn’t from smoke inhalation.

“Omigod!” she rasped and moved the oxygen mask aside. “That’s Harrison’s wife. That’s Paris Winston.”

“What? Are you sure?” Finch asked.

Jolene squinted as she looked the woman up and down. “She looks a little different. Last time I saw her, she was this refined snob in designer everything. She looks a little worse for wear, but that’s her.”

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