I scoffed, tearing my gaze away from Hansen’s to focus on the rain splashing against the window madly. “If it was up to me, I’d already be back.”
“That’s what I told them,” Hansen winked at me, but he looked tired, not as happy-go-lucky as he normally did.
“What’s with you?” I asked. “You look like somebody kicked your dog, or something.”
“Me? Nothing is wrong with me. Just got off an overnight, that’s all.”
“Were you busy?” I asked, and for a brief moment it looked like Hansen wasn’t going to answer me. He looked tense, like he didn’t want to be having any sort of serious conversation.
“Another fire last night,” he said. “A big one on the outskirts of town.”
“Any fatalities?” I asked.
“Yes. Three. Another huge office building.” He stopped speaking for a moment, fingers tapping anxiously on the wheel. “Kind of like the last one.”
“The last one?” I repeated. “You mean the one that injured me?”
“Yeah,” Hansen said softly. “It was weird.”
“You don’t think it’s—arson, do you?”
When Hansen didn’t automatically answer, a small chill traveled up my spine.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Investigators are looking into it, though.”
“We haven’t had an arson case since the year Jake Finn framed Paisley,” I reminded him, even though I knew he hadn’t forgotten it. That had been a year to remember, and not in a good way.
“I know,” Hansen said quietly. “I was hoping we wouldn’t see it again so soon. They’re dangerous, those arson fires. Deadly.”
“Everybody safe?” I asked, and Hansen nodded.
“Absolutely. Like I said, we don’t even know if that’s the case. Could be coincidence.”
“Yeah, well, stop stressing about it,” I insisted. “You know as well as I do that worrying isn’t helpful to anybody.”
“I know.”
“Good.” I clapped my friend on his shoulder, making an effort to change the subject. “In case you didn’t already know, I appreciate you helping me out,” I said, hoping that he knew I meant it and that I wasn’t just trying to make him feel better.
“I know, Butler,” he said. “I’m happy to do it. And I know you’d do the same for me.”
“Well,” I started to say, mostly just teasing him, but Hansen cut me off.
“Well nothing. I know better than anybody that beneath that façade of toughness is a mere mortal who has feelings and emotions just like the rest of us.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes as Hansen pulled into the hospital parking lot. Like every other medical clinic in this town, they were all essentially linked together, formed into the main hospital.
“Ready?” Hansen shut off the engine and put his hood on as he went around the truck to grab my crutches. He helped me out of the cab of the truck, and we walked towards the familiar door to the PT clinic.
“Here we are,” said Tate, holding the door open for me. I hobbled in like an idiot, rain dripping from my coat and hair, and with Hansen’s help I settled into the waiting-room chair while he checked me in. Again.
“How long do we have to wait?” I asked Hansen as he sat down beside me, handing a clipboard full of patient paperwork over.
“Just fill out the paperwork and they’ll call you back when it’s time. Can you handle that?”
Muttering under my breath, I filled out the stupid patient sheet and then handed it back to Hansen to turn in. Rain still pounded outside, splashing against the glass so hard that I wouldn’t have been surprised if the droplets busted right through the glass. Fitting weather for the day, honestly.
“You don’t have to stay here,” I whispered to Hansen. “You can pick me up when I’m done.”
