“It was Luis,” I said. “My ex-husband. Soon to be ex. He said he was coming here to kill you all, and he knocked me out. I’m so sorry, I led him right to you.” At that, I broke down in tears.
“Hey, hey, non, don’t cry, s’il vous plaît,” Étienne murmured, pulling me close. He examined my face, eyes darkening as they fell on the lump rising on my temple. “He hit you?”
I nodded, and a grumble rose up from the men around me. “I’ll fucking kill him,” Alexandre growled, followed by a rumble of assent.
Just then, a shout rose up among the police officers gathered behind us. Following their gazes to the roof, I screamed, hands to my mouth. There, on the roof, surrounded by licking flames, two figures grappled with each other.
Jacques and Luis.
In the distance, the sound of sirens wailed, but I knew there was no chance of reaching them in time. We watched from the ground in horrified silence as the figures broke apart. The distance was too great and the sounds of the flames and sirens too loud for us to hear anything they might be saying to each other.
Dimly, I was aware that Étienne and Vincent had each taken one of my hands in theirs, the rest of the men gathered around us, pressed tightly together for comfort. “Someone needs to help him,” I whispered desperately. Vincent squeezed my hand.
“Jacques knows how to handle himself,” he reassured me, but his voice was unsure.
“No, you don’t understand. He has a —”
At that moment, a shot rang out, clearly heard over the commotion around us.
My heart stopped. Around me, everything froze and I watched, seemingly in slow motion, as one of the figures stumbled back and toppled off the roof.
I snapped back into myself. “Jacques,” I screamed, rushing forward, the men following close behind.
I was the first to reach Jacques where he lay crumpled on the ground, one leg twisted at an unnatural angle. I sank to my knees, reaching for him. His eyes were closed, blood-soaked his shirt, his skin was nearly black with soot, but he was breathing. I let out a sob of relief.
But we were mere feet away from the flaming castle. “We have to move him,” I said, frantic. “Help me move him.”
Gently, Bernard pulled me away. I struggled against him, but he held me closer. “Isabel,” he said. “It’s not safe for us to move him. We have to get you away from here.”
“No!” I cried, but the six men gently moved me back as I fought to escape them. It was only when I saw the paramedics rush to Jacques’ side that the fight went out of me, and I crumpled, sobbing, against Bernard’s chest. His fingers stroked my hair.
“Shh,” he soothed. “You’re okay. Let it out.”
We followed the paramedics to the ambulance, where they were loading Jacques’ stretcher. From where I stood, I couldn’t see if he was conscious or not. “Where are they taking him?” I asked wildly.
One of the paramedics looked at us. “We have to get him to the hospital immediately,” she said. “One of you can come with us, but we have to leave now.”
“Is there any way you can treat him here?” Raphael asked shakily. “He wouldn’t want to be taken off the grounds.”
“Absolutely not,” the paramedic said. “This man needs urgent care.”
Étienne laid a comforting hand on Raphael’s shoulder. “It’s all right,” he murmured. “We don’t have a choice. He’ll understand.” Étienne added the last part almost as if he were trying to convince himself as much as Raphael.
“I’ll go with him,” I said, already climbing into the back of the ambulance.
Étienne nodded briefly. “We’ll stay here and deal with the police,” he said. “We’ll join you as soon as possible.” Quickly, he gave my hand a tight squeeze. “It will be okay,” he said. “Jacques is strong.”
I nodded numbly, saying nothing.
“We have to go,” the paramedic said, climbing into the ambulance and pulling the door closed behind her. I watched out the back as the six men grew smaller and smaller, finally disappearing into the distance.
The ambulance ride to the hospital passed in a blur. The paramedics bustled around Jacques, and I could only catch glimpses of him. I could read no answers in their grim faces, but took comfort in the fact that Jacques was still breathing. As long as he was breathing, there was hope.
24
Isabel
It felt like ages that I was in the waiting room, pacing anxiously as I waited for information. A cop arrived to question me, and I gave my statement in a monotone, barely aware of what I was saying.
I didn’t have my phone, couldn’t contact Étienne or any of the others, but the cop told me before he left that Luis had been arrested. “Your friends are giving their own statements now,” he said. “I’m sure they’ll be here just as soon as they can.”