Her 2 Protectors

When we reach the top of the stairs, fear like I’ve never experienced takes hold. The burn is rampant. The smell of gasoline is so strong, it makes my eyes tear, but I step back and kick the door open, shielding my face with the sleeve of my turnout coat. Zeke charges into the smoke shouting Penny’s name and I move in behind him, sprinting for the bedroom.

“Penny!”

“Baby, where are you?”

I throw aside the bedcovers that prove empty and lunge for the closet, throwing it open, but there’s no Penny in sight. I don’t know whether to hope she’s inside the apartment hurt or gone, taken. Jesus, I have no idea what’s worse, but either option makes me bellow into the engulfed apartment.

“Come on, sweetheart,” I shout, ditching the bedroom for the living room—nothing. “Don’t do this to us.”

* * *

Zeke

Nick and I reach the bathroom at the same time and shove through the door together—and there’s Penny on the floor. Not. Moving. The world starts spinning again when our simultaneous roars of utter denial rouse her, but she only moves a little. Her hand lifts and drops. But Nick and I are beside her in an instant. He secures a makeshift mask over her face and I scoop up her limp body, already vowing to kill the man who dared touch her.

Touched what’s ours.

A lump rises in my throat when I see the blood caked in Penny’s hair. “Her head.”

“I see it,” Nick responds, rage and grief warring on his face. “Motherfucker hit her over the head. He was already dead, but now we kill him slowly.”

“Damn right we do.”

The bathtub is still full of water, telling me she never made it to the bath and for some reason, that makes me even angrier. Since the night started, our poor girl has been scared for our safety at the fire, nearly accosted by a group of strange firemen, fucked by two insatiable men without a hint of mercy and now someone has locked her in an enflamed apartment. She needs a vacation.

“Baby, wake up,” I rasp, following the path Nick is clearing out of the apartment. As we move out into the hallway, men rush in with axes and masks, dragging a hose up the stairs. I don’t see any of them. There’s only her. Nick is frantic to hold her, too—I can see it in his eyes every time he turns around to make sure she’s all right. When we have to stop on the landing to let through the rush of firemen, I hand him Penny and he makes a hoarse sound, cradling her to his chest.

“She’s all right,” I bark, unashamed of my jagged tone. “She’s fine. Right?”

“She has to be.” Nick keeps moving, going down the stairs at breakneck speed, Penny still boneless in his arms. “Got to get her outside. Now.”

Cool, clean air fights its way down my lungs when we hit the sidewalk. I run alongside Nick to get Penny to an ambulance, in a sickening déjà vu of a couple weeks prior. I suck in a breath when Nick climbs into the back of the EMS truck, laying her down on a gurney.

“Fuck, she’s so pale.”

“Penny, sweetheart. Please. Look at us.” An EMS worker puts oxygen over her mouth, but Penny flutters her eyes at that exact moment and struggles to sit up. Nick and I sag with relief, him cursing up at the sky, me whispering prayers I didn’t know I had in me. She’s okay. Thank you, God, for making her okay. The EMS worker begins to clean the wound on Penny’s head, revealing a nasty gash, and the need to murder blares at full volume through my system.

“We got to you as soon as we could. Never should have left you alone in the first place.” I take her hand and press it hard to my mouth, my pulse spiking over the icy temperature of her fingers. “You scared the shit out of us,” I whisper in the understatement of…ever, while frantically trying to warm her fingers.

With an unsteady hand, Nick presses the oxygen to Penny’s mouth, just as the doors of the truck close behind us and we leave the scene, heading to the hospital. “Take it. Get the bad shit out of your lungs for us.”

Penny notices Nick’s still-shaking hand and lays her own on top of his, so she’s touching both of us, her eyes full of tears. After allowing the EMS man to secure a bandage over her wound, she slowly removes the oxygen mask, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I thought it was you at the door…”

“Shhh.” Nick gathers her close and I don’t hesitate to cage her in from the other side, pressing kisses to her hair. “You didn’t do a damn thing wrong,” Nick continues, his voice low, capturing her mouth for a tender pull. “We were both working on finding the man who took your father. The man who tried to take you. If we’d worked together, this never would have happened. I’ll never forgive myself.”