The entire lobby is filled with thick, dusty air that makes it impossible to see well. I squint and scan, looking and hoping and wishing I could find that dumb old man who insisted on coming here.
Paramedics rush by with someone on their stretcher and my heart drops the second I recognize them.
It's not Silver, no, it's the man we meant to kill, Ricardo fucking Gardella.
He doesn't appear too injured, a bit covered in soot, but aside from the oxygen bag they have covering his face, he seems okay.
Dom and I exchange a glance and push further into the building, stepping over rubble and overthrown furniture.
"We've got another one!" a medic yells to his colleagues, waving his arm over his head.
I run over, my hands gripping the debris covering him and toss it aside, not caring that it's slicing my flesh.
"Fuck," I say and keep doing what I can to free him. "Help me," I tell Dominic as he approaches. The two of us, with the help of the medic, yank stuff off Silver.
"You shouldn't be back here," the medic tells us even though it seems more like a formality than anything.
Dominic grunts and nearly falls backward as he heaves a massive hunk of concrete off Silver.
Silver gasps for air, his face almost unrecognizable with all the soot covering him.
The other medics approach with a stretcher and reach for Silver to hoist him on top of it, but Silver has other plans. Instead of climbing on, he smacks their hands away and pushes himself up from the ground.
I weave a hand under his arm to help him despite him clearly having it covered on his own.
He dusts his torso off, doing next to nothing to actually clean himself and mutters, "I'm fine, help someone who needs it." Silver glares at the medics who, at first, don't take no for an answer, until they finally do.
Dominic clears his throat. "I'll get him to the hospital. You look for more casualties."
Silver doesn't bother waiting for Dom or me to help him, he simply steps over some of the shit we pulled off him and continues forward like the fucking Terminator.
"Shit," he blurts out, glancing over his shoulder. "My phone."
"I think the phone is the least of your worries," Dominic tells him and pushes on his back to keep him moving. "We need to get out of here,now."
Once we're outside, I cough and blink, my eyes watering at the lack of shit floating in the air. I hadn't realized how terrible it was inside until I was free of it all. Glancing down, I see that I'm covered in dust particles from the accident.
"Here." I hand Silver my cell. "Call Cora."
Silver snatches it out of my grasp, dialing her number and pressing the phone to his ear.
We continue moving toward the SUV, all of us loading in without a second thought.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Silver tells what I can only assume is Cora. He clears his throat, hacking a bit, his gaze trailing to his blood-covered palm. "That's not good."
Dominic sighs. "Take us to the hospital."
"I said I'm fine," Silver barks from the back seat.
I shove the vehicle into reverse, bumping into the car behind me to free up space to get out. Perhaps I shouldn't have parked as close as I did to the fire truck when we arrived. Either way, I don't give a fuck, this isn't my car and there are tons of distractions to mask my petty crime.
Silver shoves my cell toward me. "Here."
But when I take it, the screen is off. "So, how did it go?" I glance at him before taking my phone and tossing it into the cup holder.
"She's pissed." Silver wipes at his forehead. "Can't say I blame her."
Dominic turns in his seat to get a better look at Silver. "Do you two want to tell me how Cora is involved in all of this?"
