I stretch as far as I can get my body to reach to grab the rope around the young man’s leg. Using my own knife, I begin cutting at the rope, hoping that the scaffolding doesn’t give way before I can free him. There’s also the matter of ensuring that I don’t remove the rope that is serving as a tourniquet for the boy’s leg. One false move and this young man’s life is over before it truly ever began.
“Got it!” I say as I free the rope from the scaffolding … right before more of it gives way, falling lower. “Shit!”
“I got you,” Don assures.
Without thinking, I wrap my arms around the struggling guy and pull him with me back to the ladder. Don is there to help relieve the pressure of the boy’s limp body. We awkwardly maneuver carrying his body down the ladder until we reach the bottom. He is gingerly brought down the rig to the paramedics, who quickly assess the delicate situation he’s in, and whisk him off to the ambulance and then to the hospital.
Pushing out a breath, I silently hope the boy makes it to the hospital alive and the doctors are able to save him. A dark cloud begins to fall over me. My fingers tense as I ball them into fists. It’s the same feeling that’s come over me for months now. Blinking, I try to shake the mood off but it’s no use. Especially when I look up and catch sight of Don grilling me with his glare.
I narrow my eyes on him, already feeling primed for a fight due to the excessive energy coursing through me.
“You’re dangerous,” he growls, moving closer. “You don’t wait for direction, you don’t wait for your team, and you don’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself.”
“And you’re a fucking empty shirt who needs to stay the fuck out of my way.”
“Fu—”
“Hey, hey!” Sean breaks us apart. “Let’s pack up this equipment and go,” he orders.
I give Don one last glare and turn, only to come face-to-face with Carter.
His eyes move from me to Don, over my shoulder, and then back to me. “He’s not an empty shirt.”
“Then what the hell is he?” I question, feeling pissed off all over again.
Carter looks away, shaking his head. “There’s a lot you don’t know.”
“Then why don’t you fill me in?”
“Eventually,” is all he says before he turns and heads back inside of the truck.
Glowering at my entire team, I begrudgingly gather my belongings and put everything in the truck away before getting behind the wheel again.
Chapter Thirteen
Emanuel
“What?” I growl into the phone without looking to see who’s calling.
“Hey,” Janine’s soft voice moves across the line. Somehow, that short, one syllable word has a calming effect on me. The strain that moves through my body isn’t completely pushed out but the ragged edges are just a little smoother.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, why?” My tone continues to be clipped.
“I, uh, your voice just sounded off.”
I clear my throat as I turn to face the entrance doors of Williamsport Hospital’s emergency room.
“I’m fine.”
There’s a long pause on the other end. I want to reach through the phone, cup her face, and bring her lips to mine. Both for her comfort and for my own. I want to reassure her that my mood doesn’t have anything to do with her or my desire to talk to her. However, I don’t allow those words to spill from my lips.
Maybe she’s better off without you, that sudden voice of doubt shouts in my head.
“I know it’s late but you said to call you after your shift. It’s after eleven. Did you still want to talk?”
Pausing at the side of my car in the parking lot, I squeeze my eyes shut before blinking them back open. Her voice does things to me that I still can’t explain. But I still don’t want her to be affected by my mood at the moment. I don’t want this ugliness to settle over any part of her.
