“Of course.” She takes the furry critter and gives him a loving squeeze. “Call me and tell me how he is. I’ve got the cat. Go!”
I turn and run back to the ambulance holding the one person I love more than her. Once I hop in the doors close and they rush us to the hospital.
“He was lucky,” the doctor tells me. “He has a second degree burn on his hip and has severe smoke inhalation but other than that, he’s in good shape. He was lucky you got to him when you did. But son, you shouldn’t be rushing into fires,”the old doctor adds. Originally they wouldn’t tell me anything. I wasn’t family and they couldn’t release any information. I might have had a major freak out and yelled at a couple of hospital employees.
Caleb was on shift and heard the commotion. The dorky doc came to my rescue once again. Fortunately, he’s Ewen’s emergency contact and he informed the staff to release any information they had to me. I thanked him and he winked at me. I was the one with the killer winks, but when he did it, I knew he was privy to mine and Ewen’s situation.
That fucking man was becoming my unofficial bestie. He treated my sister right, cared for Ewen, and helped me when I wasn’t able to be there.
“He can go home in the morning. We just want to monitor him overnight to make sure there’s nothing else.”
Shaking his hand, I say, “Thank you so much Doc.”
He leaves and I sit in the chair next to Ewen’s bed. I don’t like that we’re back in a situation where one of us is in the hospital. I have a feeling this all links back to the Bianchis.
He’s been sleeping most of the time, only opening his eyes to look for me. Once they land on me he smiles and falls back to sleep. I know it’s what his body needs, but I want to be selfish and demand he stay awake.
I refuse to sleep even for a second, staying by his side all night long. When he finally wakes he gives me a small smile “Hey there,” he says once he’s fully aware of his surroundings. His voice sounds huskier from all the smoke he had taken in.
I already have our fingers woven together. “Hi baby.” I bring them up and kiss the knuckles of his hand. “You scared me,” I repeat the words he said to me when our positions were reversed. “What happened?”
He looks around. “I’m not sure. There was a loud crashing sound downstairs. I went to see what made the noise and therewere flames. Before I knew it, the fire was everywhere.” He pauses to cough. “I ran back to get Beocca. Wait! Where is he?” His eyes fill with panic.
“He’s fine. You saved him. He’s with Fiona right now.” I kiss his knuckles to soothe him, and he calms down at my statement.
“How’s the church?”
“It’s pretty much gone.” It breaks my heart to tell him. Tears well up in his eyes and stream down his face.
I vow to myself that I will find who took the church from him.
“Hey, they’re releasing you today,” I say, trying to change the subject. “So at least you don’t have to stay here too long.”
He squeezes my hand but it feels weak. “That’s good, but I have no home to go back to.”
“You always have my place. My home is yours.”
“I don’t want to impo?—”
“No! Don’t you dare finish that thought,” I interrupt. “You wouldn’t be imposing. You have me, always, to love and support you. If that means anything. You can stay with me until they rebuild your church or find you somewhere else.”
He’s staring at me wide eyed. “Y—you love me?”
Fuck, did I just say that out loud? I do love him. I just haven’t said it to him. Until now. “I do.”
He pulls me to him and kisses me. His tears fall on our lips, becoming part of the kiss. After a few I pull back and look at him. “Hey, let’s just get out of here and we can talk.”
Ewen gives me a nod. I’m not sure if my affirmation of love helped or hindered him, but I know I will do whatever he wants. I’ll either hold and love him till my dying breath, or I’ll help him achieve his dreams. Whatever he wants, it’s his.
33
DECLAN
The next few days go by in the blink of an eye. After Ewen was discharged we went back to my place. He was so sad and broken. He’d lost everything except me and Murder Mittens. Fiona brought the furball over, which helped relieve some of his grief but not all. He said he didn’t care about the possessions, but he missed the church he loved.
The police came by to take his statement. One officer told us it was arson. A fucking Molotov cocktail was thrown through the windows. Between the age of the building and the accelerant, the structure stood no chance.
My suspicions of the culprit still hold.
