“A few months,” I reply. “Maybe a little longer. It’s not always loud like the shooting or the fire. Sometimes it’s just… off.”
“Off how?”
I hesitate, becausethis, this is the line. “I don’t know,” I admit slowly. “More cars at weird hours. People hanging around who don’t look familiar.”
I glance at him. “Girls, sometimes,” I add.
His expression doesn’t change, but something behind his eyes does. I figured he’d have seen that coming, but it hits differently toseeit not have much of an effect on him.
“They don’t stay long,” I continue. “At least… I don’t think they do.”
Silence stretches between us, the guilt creeping in. Because I live here, because I saw things. Because I didn’tdoanything.
“They were in that building,” I say quietly. “Weren’t they?”
He doesn’t answer right away. That just makes it worse. Then he quietly says, “yes.”
Simple, but heavy and so final. Too final. I swallow hard. “I should’ve-”
“You couldn’t have known,” he cuts in, firm and immediate.
My eyes snap to his. “And even if you had,” he adds, voice lower now, “you don’t go into situations like that alone.”
Protective, again. It wraps around me in a way I didn’t expect. “I’m EMS,” I point out weakly.
“Exactly.”
That doesn’t make sense but deep down, I know he’s right. I don’t work alone. I have Scott in the rig, plenty enough to keep a few perverts from bothering me during transport. And for dangerous calls, there’s always PD on scene. Trying to do anything about that apartment building, even just getting close enough to figure out if assumptions were correct, would have been solo… and riskier than I want to think about right now.
We fall quiet again, busting into the lo mein.
After a while, I break the silence softly. “York,” I say.
His eyes lift to mine instantly. So Ididhear that right.
“You heard,” he says. Not a question.
“I was right there.”
Another pause until he sighs. “Small player.”
I blink. “That didn’t sound like a small operation.”
“It’s not,” he agrees. “But names like that… they’re usually middle management.”
Middle management? That thought of a corporate business structure somehow makes this worse. “Then there’s someone above him,” I murmur.
His gaze holds mine. “Yes.”
The word settles between us like something dangerous. I look down at my food, suddenly less hungry.
“This is a bad idea,” I say quietly.
“What is?”
“This,” I gesture between us. “You being here. Me talking about this.”
He doesn’t move. “You want me to leave?”
