the air, drawing both air and smoke into his lungs. The floor under his feet began to feel hot as the rescuers franticly tried to smother the flames. It was obvious to Aaron the entire bottom floor had already started to burn.
Aaron pushed at the broken glass, knocking more of it free as he tried to climb out on the ledge.
“Aaron?” Chief George Manning called up.
“I think there’s someone in the bedroom,” he managed to say, still coughing.
“Hang on,” George shouted.
Aaron wiped at his tears as they continued to flow. The ladder hooked to the side of the fire truck was quickly removed by two of the volunteers and carried to the building. With an oxygen tank strapped to his back, George scaled the ladder. Once he reached the ledge, he took a moment to check on Aaron. “Can you get down?”
Aaron nodded. He’d been prepared to jump if that’s what it took, so tumbling down a ladder was worth the risk. “Bedroom,” he managed to say before George disappeared into the apartment.
Aaron scooted closer to the ladder before reaching out to grab it. He’d taken a few steps down when a solid body pressed against his back. “Lean on me,” Sammy Lee yelled in Aaron’s ear.
As he leant back against the comforting wall of strength, Aaron gave himself over to the blackness that had threatened to take him since entering the apartment. His last thought was for Groucho.
Chapter Six
Deacon held Aaron’s hand as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He’d never been so glad he’d given up his secret as when he’d received the call from Priest on his agency phone.
He’d been in the middle of a heated discussion with the President when he’d received the call. Expecting an update from Midnight, Deacon nearly hung up and returned to his meeting until Priest uttered Aaron’s name.
After being told of Aaron’s condition, Deacon had ended the call, told the President his decision was final and ran to the elevator that would get him out of the underground bunker.
Aaron’s eyelids fluttered for several moments before opening fully. He reached up and moved the oxygen mask to the side. “I’m sorry.”
Deacon scooted closer to the bed, despite the protest from his knee and leaned against the mattress. “Shhh. It was just a building. The important thing is you’ll be fine.”
Aaron started to reach for Deacon but winced and drew his hand back.
“You did quite a number on your back crawling through one of those windows.”
Aaron gestured to the small pitcher of water. “Thirsty.”
“It’s empty. I’ll have to ask.” Instead of leaving Aaron’s side, Deacon pressed the small button on the side of the bed.
In a matter of seconds, Dr Isaac Singer stepped into the room. “Good to see you awake.” He walked over to the bed and used his stethoscope to check Aaron’s lung function. “You’re damn lucky. We had to airlift Shane out of here.”
Aaron’s blond eyebrows drew together. “Who?”
“Shane Rendell, the man whose life you saved by breaking into his apartment. Damn stupid move, by the way,” Isaac reprimanded.
“I saved? He’ll be okay?” Aaron sounded as if he’d had strep throat for days.
“Can I get him some water?” Deacon asked, interrupting the conversation.
“Ice would be better. There’s still a chance he could throw up, the less in his stomach, the better.” Isaac helped Aaron to a sitting position. “Let me take a look at your stitches.”
Deacon grabbed the pitcher and left the room. He knew Aaron would ask about Shane until he’d been given an answer, and Deacon didn’t want to tell Aaron the young man was in a coma. Apparently, Shane had been home sick with the flu for two days. He’d made the mistake of taking a large dose of cough syrup in an effort to help him sleep and hadn’t awoken since. Even though he was still breathing when George and Sammy pulled him from the burning building, the combination of medicine and smoke had combined to throw Shane into
Aaron pushed at the broken glass, knocking more of it free as he tried to climb out on the ledge.
“Aaron?” Chief George Manning called up.
“I think there’s someone in the bedroom,” he managed to say, still coughing.
“Hang on,” George shouted.
Aaron wiped at his tears as they continued to flow. The ladder hooked to the side of the fire truck was quickly removed by two of the volunteers and carried to the building. With an oxygen tank strapped to his back, George scaled the ladder. Once he reached the ledge, he took a moment to check on Aaron. “Can you get down?”
Aaron nodded. He’d been prepared to jump if that’s what it took, so tumbling down a ladder was worth the risk. “Bedroom,” he managed to say before George disappeared into the apartment.
Aaron scooted closer to the ladder before reaching out to grab it. He’d taken a few steps down when a solid body pressed against his back. “Lean on me,” Sammy Lee yelled in Aaron’s ear.
As he leant back against the comforting wall of strength, Aaron gave himself over to the blackness that had threatened to take him since entering the apartment. His last thought was for Groucho.
Chapter Six
Deacon held Aaron’s hand as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He’d never been so glad he’d given up his secret as when he’d received the call from Priest on his agency phone.
He’d been in the middle of a heated discussion with the President when he’d received the call. Expecting an update from Midnight, Deacon nearly hung up and returned to his meeting until Priest uttered Aaron’s name.
After being told of Aaron’s condition, Deacon had ended the call, told the President his decision was final and ran to the elevator that would get him out of the underground bunker.
Aaron’s eyelids fluttered for several moments before opening fully. He reached up and moved the oxygen mask to the side. “I’m sorry.”
Deacon scooted closer to the bed, despite the protest from his knee and leaned against the mattress. “Shhh. It was just a building. The important thing is you’ll be fine.”
Aaron started to reach for Deacon but winced and drew his hand back.
“You did quite a number on your back crawling through one of those windows.”
Aaron gestured to the small pitcher of water. “Thirsty.”
“It’s empty. I’ll have to ask.” Instead of leaving Aaron’s side, Deacon pressed the small button on the side of the bed.
In a matter of seconds, Dr Isaac Singer stepped into the room. “Good to see you awake.” He walked over to the bed and used his stethoscope to check Aaron’s lung function. “You’re damn lucky. We had to airlift Shane out of here.”
Aaron’s blond eyebrows drew together. “Who?”
“Shane Rendell, the man whose life you saved by breaking into his apartment. Damn stupid move, by the way,” Isaac reprimanded.
“I saved? He’ll be okay?” Aaron sounded as if he’d had strep throat for days.
“Can I get him some water?” Deacon asked, interrupting the conversation.
“Ice would be better. There’s still a chance he could throw up, the less in his stomach, the better.” Isaac helped Aaron to a sitting position. “Let me take a look at your stitches.”
Deacon grabbed the pitcher and left the room. He knew Aaron would ask about Shane until he’d been given an answer, and Deacon didn’t want to tell Aaron the young man was in a coma. Apparently, Shane had been home sick with the flu for two days. He’d made the mistake of taking a large dose of cough syrup in an effort to help him sleep and hadn’t awoken since. Even though he was still breathing when George and Sammy pulled him from the burning building, the combination of medicine and smoke had combined to throw Shane into
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