Nodding, his small but grimy hand curls into mine. He’s fragile, but he’s got the will to live. So long as he gets apony ride on the back of a six-foot-four hero.
I pull him free, tucking him against me, feeling a sense of relief I didn’t think my hardened heart could feel.
Out in the hall, I swing him onto my back. The sound of bending metal screeches behind me, and debris starts falling from the ceiling.
“Hold on, lad. We’re gonna make a mad dash for it.”
With his hands locked around my neck, I run through smoke and dust until daylight blazes in my eyes.
“Oliver!” a woman screams, barreling toward me with her arms outstretched.
“Your mum?” I ask the boy.
He nods and starts to cry.
Aye, mums will do that.
I place him in her embrace. His ash-streaked hair melds with her tears, leaving her face stained with soot, too. “Mo chroí, mo grá…” She rocks him. “I thought I’d lost you.”
Her husband, the porter, clasps my shoulder, words garbled in his own tears. “Thank you, sir. God bless you.”
I soften to pure appreciation. Maybe all the violence I’ve had a hand in isn’t the only thing I can give this world.
When I look up, I see my brother with my mum and dad just beyond the barricade. Trace was on a plane when I got the call about the fire. How’d he get here so fast? Had I lost that much time looking for Oliver?
Trace hops the barrier as I did and reaches me. He looks both jet-lagged and stressed. He wraps me in a hug so hard it knocks the air out of me. “Jaysus, Rhys.”
“I’m all right,” I say, even if I’m not sure it’s the truth.
“They told me you went in there looking for a kid,” my brother says.
“Aye, the boy had special needs. Anxiety and non-verbal.”
“Since when are you an expert with that?”
“Today.” I shrug. “It was satisfying. Figuring out a wayto communicate differently.”
My parents come up behind us. Weeping, my mum knocks everything else out of focus as she clutches my face and kisses both cheeks.
Then she smacks me.
“You bloody reckless moron. The two of you. You’re going to give me a bleedin’ heart attack.”
Something tight in my chest loosens into laughter and tears.
Mums will do that.
Dad pulls me close next, strong arms grounding me. “Don’t listen to her. You’re trained, and you’re smart. Always do the right thing, lad.”
For a moment, I just let my family hold me as if I’m not the monster I was hours ago, breaking bones in a warehouse.
Trace walks with me to get checked out by a medic. “I was freaked out too when I heard you were here.”
“I had it under control.” I look him up and down. “How was Las Vegas?”
He goes visibly pale. “You’re not the only one who likes to do incredibly stupid things.”
“You?” I cough out some smoke. “Don’t see it happening.”
