Loyal Heir (The Heirs 4)

Even though he can’t hear me, I say, “We’re going to be okay. Just hold on for me. They’re almost through.”

My heartbeat begins to speed up when the beam of light keeps growing, and when a man lowers himself into the small space, a thankful sob drifts over my lips.

“Thank you! Thank you so much,” I cry. I could freaking hug him right now.

The headlamp from his hard hat shines a light on all the chunks of debris, then the man says, “Let’s get you out of here.”

He reaches for my arm, but I rear back to Forest. “You need to get him out first. He’s unconscious and has a chest injury.”

“We need a stretcher,” the man calls to whoever’s up top. Then he takes hold of my arm. “Let’s get you out first. Come on.”

The man’s hands drop to my waist, and he lifts me as if I weigh nothing. I begin to reach my arms up and to the light, and then strong hands grip hold of me, pulling me out of the hole.

Things become a flurry of activity and voices, and feeling overwhelmed, I struggle to focus on anything. As I’m passed from one pair of hands to the next, I keep glancing back to see if they’re bringing Forest up. Someone places an arm around my shoulders and begins to help me over the jagged pieces of concrete.

I rear back, not wanting to move too far away from Forest. “Wait. Wait,” I gasp, and it’s only then I feel the relief in my lungs from the fresh air.

“We need to move you to safety,” a man says. “The ground is unstable.”

As I’m dragged down a heap of concrete, I keep my eyes on the spotlighted area. When I see men pulling the stretcher up with Forest strapped to it, I can finally take a deep breath of the sweet air around me.

“Aria!” I hear Dad’s voice, and it acts as a switch to my traumatized psyche, causing hysterical sobs to explode from me.

My eyes search over the sea of people, and when I can’t find my dad, I cry, “Daddy!” Then I see him to my left as he rushes to me.

Dad grabs hold of my shoulders, and he looks like he’s aged ten years from worry. “Are you hurt?”

I shake my head. “No, but Forest is.”

Just then, I hear Aunt Layla’s broken wail, “My baby.”

My head snaps in her direction, and I see as they carry Forest toward an ambulance. “I want to go with him.”

Dad and I hurry over to Aunt Layla, but a paramedic stops us. When he insists that I get checked, I’m separated from Forest.

I struggle to focus on what’s happening around me. It feels as if I’m being moved around in a haze. My eyes stay glued to the ambulance Forest got loaded into until I can’t see the vehicle any longer.

I’ve been given oxygen and a lot of fluids to rehydrate. We have to wait while they’re taking scans and X-rays of Forest. Seeing Aunt Layla crying and Uncle Falcon’s fear just breaks my heart.

I begin to pull free from Dad, but he immediately tightens his hold on me, squashing me against his chest.

“I want to comfort Aunt Layla,” I whisper, my throat feeling as if it's been grated raw.

Even though Dad lets go of me, he stays right behind me as I hug Aunt Layla. When I wrap my arms around her, she grabs hold of me, her tears falling faster.

“He’s going to be okay,” I try to reassure her even though I’m worried out of my mind.

He has to be okay.

Mom brings coffee for Aunt Layla and Uncle Falcon. Forest’s parents had to fly to an airport that was not in the earthquake zone and then drove the rest of the way to get to us. The rest of our friends and family have been calling Dad and Uncle Falcon every couple of minutes for updates.

My eyes scan over my parents, and a weird sensation ripples through me. It’s as if I’m watching them from a distance.

My breathing begins to speed up, and the instant my gaze connects with Dad’s, I start to cry again.

Dad’s arms wrap around me, offering the safety I was deprived of during the long hours we waited to be rescued.

I bury my face against Dad’s chest and cling to him. “It was so scary.”

Dad rubs a hand up and down my back. “You’re safe now, sweetheart.”

I take deep breaths of my father to calm my overly frail nerves, but I stay in his embrace, needing strength from him.

Everyone murmurs, their faces lined with concern for Forest while we wait to hear how badly he was injured.

Finally, a doctor approaches us, and he addresses Uncle Falcon and Aunt Layla. “We had to perform surgery on your son’s arm to clean out the wound. We closed it up nicely using dissolvable stitches and placed his arm in a cast. As for his chest, he has four broken ribs and severe soft tissue damage. The increased distress his body was under caused blood to escape and build up. With rest and ice compressions, the bruising will heal. Luckily the ribs didn’t puncture his lung. Mr. Reyes is also oxygen-deprived. We’d like to keep him on oxygen for twenty-four hours, just to get his levels back up.”