Of course, my brother shows up just as I’m having these thoughts. He never did have great timing. Oh well. I can tell he’s out of his mind with worry.
“Bethany, you’re . . . are you . . . you’re . . .”
He’s panting, not quite able to articulate his thoughts.
“She’s alive,” Joey says.
“Can she stand?”
“Oh, sorry.”
Joey puts me down, very slowly and very carefully.
My brother offers his arm. I take it. Joey offers me an arm too. One man on each side, I test my balance. “I think I can manage on my own,” I finally say.
They let go tentatively, both men ready to catch me if I should fall. But I’m able to stand on my feet.
Judging by the way they’re looking at me right now, this incident must have scared them as much as it did me.
13
Joey
The fight is over.We won. I approach Dennis as he’s walking out of the building. “How’s it looking in there?”
Dennis takes off his helmet. “Third floor is burned to a crisp. But no one else was inside.”
“That’s good news.”
“I’m just glad we made it in time,” Dennis says, pointing to Jax and Bethany. “That family’s like a fire magnet.”
“No kidding. And they seem to arguing. Let me find out what’s going on.”
“Good luck,” Dennis says.
As I get closer to them, their voices become discernible.
“We need to get you to a hospital,” Jax says to his sister.
He means it. His eyes are full of worry and concern.
But Bethany doesn’t seem to agree. “I’m fine. I don’t need to go.”
“It’s not up for debate,” Jax says. “You’re going. Right now. There’s no telling how much of that nasty smoke you inhaled. Better safe than sorry, Beth.”
“Jax, I’m fine,” Bethany insists. “I get that you’re worried about me, but I’m feeling a lot better now.”
Jax looks at his sister like she’s speaking another language. “Why are we even arguing about this?”
“I don’t want to pay the absurd medical bill. I’m fine, Jax.”
“Are you effing kidding me right now? I don’t think you are. You almost died in that horrendous fire. Inhaled God knows what.”
I fight the urge to chuckle at his use of ‘effing.’ Jax can be so wholesome sometimes. I lay a hand on his shoulder. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”
Jax’s jaw is firm, his gaze intense. We walk some ten paces away. I turn to my lieutenant. “I know you’re worried, man. I mean, this is your sister we’re talking about. And you’re probably right — she doesn’t get how serious the aftereffects of smoke inhalation can be, especially with a chemical fire like this one.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Jax says, and gets ready to turn back to his sister. But to his surprise — and my own, quite frankly — I grab him by his coat.
