Chapter 24
Marc pulled as close to Angel’s damaged block as he could, Monty already leaping out of the vehicle before it stopped. The other Saints parked nearby, running toward the chaos as well. Dark, billowing smoke poured from the building, sending the ashes into the sky. The police attempted to barricade the area, but Jack’s Saints flashed their investigator badges and managed to make their way closer.
The corner of the building was destroyed. The glass front was shattered, colored shards littering the area. The former shop, now a blackened cave, dripped with water as the fire hoses continued their aim. The second-floor apartment had shattered glass on the front, blackened bricks now facing the street, which was littered with debris.
Monty’s gaze darted through the police, fire, and rescue vehicles, searching for the one holding Angel. Seeing Chad standing next to one, he charged over, the other Saints following. Chad was talking to the fire Chief and a detective. As they approached, Monty was vaguely aware of Chad introducing his boss to the other investigators.
Monty’s sole focus was finding Angel. Rounding the back of the vehicle, he looked inside, his heart in his throat. Thank Jesus! She sat on the stretcher, her arms covered in cuts. Her khaki uniform pants were shredded and bloody. One of the EMTs was in the process of cutting them off high on her thighs and Monty could see her legs were in the same shape her arms were.
“Baby,” he called out, attempting to enter the ambulance. When one of the EMTs attempted to stop him from climbing into the vehicle, he started to shove back. “She’s my fiancé!” he shouted, willing to say anything to be able to be with her, as Marc appeared behind his back.
Moving to the stretcher, he reached for Angel but halted when he saw her eyes. Dull blue stared back at him, a blank expression on her face. “What’s her condition?” he asked, his voice much softer now.
“She’s suffered multiple cuts and abrasions, mostly to her hands, arms, and legs. She’s got a cut on the side of her forehead that will likely need stitches, but we’ve treated it here for now. We were getting her prepped here as much as possible before transport, but she’s telling us she doesn’t want to go to the hospital. She keeps saying she needs to open the bakery.”
“Angel?” he said cautiously, sitting on the stretcher next to her. “You need to go to the hospital. I’m here and I’ll go with you.”
Jack, Bart, Cam, Blaise, and Marc appeared at the opening of the ambulance to check on her situation. Looking her over, Jack turned his eyes to Monty. “How is she?”
Monty looked down at his friends, uncertainty written on his face. “Still checking. Cuts, bruises, but right now, she’s in shock.”
One of the EMTs asked, “Sir, does your fiancé have a hearing problem? Is she deaf?”
Monty’s head jerked around, “No, why?”
“She doesn’t appear to be able to hear out of her right ear. This may be temporary, but we need to get her to the hospital and have her checked out.”
Monty moved off the stretcher and squatted in front of her. Leaning slightly toward her left ear, he said, “You’re going to go to the hospital and get checked out. There’s nothing you need to do here, Cupcake.”
At the world cupcake her eyes flared to life momentarily and her raspy voice croaked, “I have to open up the shop.”
“Angel, look at me,” he ordered gently. “You’re going to the hospital and don’t worry about the shop.”
Monty turned and hopped out the back of the ambulance to talk to the other Saints for a moment. “She’s in shock…she doesn’t seem to understand what’s happened. I’m riding with her.” His eyes looked up at the building, fear mixed with rage inside. He turned to Chad, saying, “What do they think? Gas fire?”
Chad’s grim face held his friend’s eyes. “Too early to tell, Monty. But my experience tells me this was no ordinary gas fire.” Seeing Monty’s rage begin to rise to the surface, he quickly said, “You take care of her and let me do my job here when I’m allowed in. I’ll be able to tell if it was a gas explosion or an incendiary device.”
Behind them, Angel did not say anything but turned her head toward the group, a question in her glazed eyes. She looked out on the chaos once more, the area swarming with firemen and police. And a blackened hole where her bakery used to be. Suddenly, her breathing came faster, heavier and her eyes cleared. The roar in her ears continued but she fought against the fog that filled her mind. Smoke. Fire. Explosion. Broken window. Escape. Sucking in a gasp of air, she lunged forward, propelling herself toward the open back door of the ambulance.
“Nooooo!” she screamed, startling the men standing in their huddle. “My shop!” her raspy voice screeched. Her bandaged hands clawed out, fighting an unknown enemy.
Monty whirled around, catching her as she tried to leap away from the EMTs. He clutched her shaking body close to his. The warming blanket had fallen away and Blaise grabbed it off the ground, wrapping it around her from the back as her front pressed to Monty’s chest. Her rage morphed into sobs as her mind registered the devastation of her world.
“Baby, baby,” he soothed. “It’ll be fine, I promise.” He turned slightly and nodded to the others. “I’m riding with her.” He looked at Jack and said, “Can Bethany get—”
“Already taken care of,” Jack answered. “She’s getting the women together. They’ll get some clothes and other things. We’ll get them to your house.”
Nodding, Monty turned and climbed into the back of the ambulance with Angel still in his arms. Depositing her gently onto the stretcher once more, he glanced back at the Saints as the doors were closing. Their rage mirrored his own.
*
Waiting in the ER, Monty had a sense of déjà vu as he was reminded of his last time in with Angel. Before, he was concerned. Now…he was petrified. Is this what love does? Make you scared shitless when something happens to someone you love? What will it be like when we have kids? As soon as that thought crossed his mind, he shook his head. Kids? Continuing to pace up and down the hall, he realized that as scary as it was, he wanted everything with Angel. Life. Love. Marriage. Family.
Hearing his name called, he jogged to her room. The curtain opened and a doctor was just stepping out. The older, grey haired man, stethoscope around his neck, had a calm countenance Monty picked up on.
“Are you seeing Ms. Cartwright?” Monty asked, his voice strangely quivering.
The doctor looked up into his face and nodded. “And you are?”
“Her fiancé,” he said. He knew Marc, standing behind him, would back anything he said.
“She’s quite lucky. We did not have to treat her for smoke inhalation, due to her quick thinking in breaking a window and getting to the fire escape. She does have cuts and abrasions on her arms and legs, which were treated. Our primary concern is that she appears to have lost her hearing in her right ear. The ear drum ruptured and the hearing loss hopefully will be temporary.”
“Can I see her now?”
The doctor smiled and nodded. “Yes. We have an audiologist coming down to evaluate her and then she’ll be ready to be discharged.” Putting his hand on Monty’s arm, he said gently, “She was very lucky, but has been through a trauma and is shaken. I’m going to suggest she see a trauma counselor.”
“Absolutely,” Monty agreed, his eyes darting to the room where she lay. As the doctor moved on down the hall, Marc clapped Monty on the back.
“You heard what he said,” Marc reminded. “She’s going to be fine. So when you go in there, don’t scare her to death.”
Nodding, Monty steeled his spine, sucking in a deep breath. Pushing back the curtain, he stepped in. As prepared as he tried to be, seeing Angel in the bed halted him in his tracks. More bandages were on her forehead and her arms and legs were dotted with cuts. Wearing a hospital gown, he glanced to the side to see her ripped and bloody khaki pants and pink ACH polo shirt. Her hair, dull and tangled, was pulled back away from her face.
Alive. She’s alive. He wanted to sing it over and over, but when she turned her blue eyes up to him, he was not sure she felt it.
Her eyes filled with tears and he rushed to her bedside. Gathering her in his arms, he gently scooted her over so he could sit on the narrow bed next to her.
“What happened?” she asked. “Please tell me. Was it a gas leak or did someone do this to me?”
“I don’t know, babe, but I promise we’re working on it,” he murmured as he held her.
She felt the rumblings in his chest, but his words were garbled. Turning her head, she faced him, watching to see if his mouth was moving. “I…I…can’t hear you very well,” she said. Reaching up, she touched her right ear. “There’s just some dull roaring in here.” She knew the doctor was sending an audiologist down to see her. Please don’t let this be permanent, she prayed.
Monty shifted so that his mouth was closer to her left ear. “We don’t know what happened yet,” he spoke deliberately. Watching her eyes, he knew she understood. “The Saints are working the scene with the Fire Inspector. Chad worked for ATF…he’s an expert.”
My shop is gone. My apartment is gone. Everything I own in the world is gone! Once again, she nodded. Deep breaths. In…out…in…out. The ER nurse had breathed with her when she began to hyperventilate. The antiseptic odors of the hospital mixed with the smoke on her body hit her nose, and she choked back a gag.
“It’s all gone,” she said, her voice laced with fear and anger. Her fingers gripped the sheet so tightly her knuckles were white.
“Cupcake, look at me,” he ordered, turning her face to his with his fingers on her chin. “You’re safe. You’re alive. And I’m going to thank God every day for that miracle. All the other things can be replaced. You’ve got insurance. You’ve already got a new building that you were moving to in another week or so. And your apartment? There’s nothing there that can’t be replaced.”
Offering a shaky nod, she noticed Monty looking toward the door. She watched as he called out “Come in.” Damn, did someone knock? I didn’t even hear it!
Jack stuck his head in the ER bay, his eyes scanning Angel before moving to Monty. “The police are wanting a statement. I’ve held them back, but needed to know when a good time would be.”
Angel turned her head slightly to the right so that her left ear was closer as she kept her eyes on Jack’s mouth. Shooting a glance over to Monty, she watched as he spoke.
“An audiologist is coming to do an eval. I’m taking her home when we’re done here. We’ll meet at my place and she can be questioned then.”
Jack nodded and with a head jerk toward Angel, he backed out of the room. Before Angel was able to speak, a woman entered the room. Walking over, she stuck her hand out toward Angel and introduced herself. Speaking slowly and clearly, she explained the auditory evaluation she would be conducting.
“I will be putting earphones on you and you will simply lift your hand when you hear a tone. What it will measure are the faintest tones you can hear in both ears. I will also evaluate you with tympanometry. The ER doctor looked at your ears with an otoscope and determined that your eardrum perforated.”
Angel, her face tight with anxiety, merely nodded. Monty squeezed her hand and she responded with her fingers digging into his slightly, but did not take her eyes off the audiologist. The evaluation did not take too long and soon the audiologist was back in the room after conferring with the ER doctor.
“Okay, Ms. Cartwright. Your right ear is confirmed to be ruptured. This is not an unusual occurrence with a loud noise or change in air pressure.” The audiologist stopped to make sure Angel was understanding. Assured that she was, she continued, “What you can do for the pain is use warm compresses against the ear and over-the-counter pain meds. You will need to keep the ear canal dry, so you will place cotton balls in your ear when you shower or wash your hair. No swimming or putting your head underwater.”
“How long?” Angel asked, her mind whirling with all of the information flying at her.
“The eardrum should heal itself in about two months. If not, then surgery may be needed. Right now, you have a moderate hearing loss in the right ear and, if you call my office, we will check you weekly. We are anticipating a complete recovery.”
She shook Angel’s cold hand before she left the room, leaving Angel to slump against Monty’s back. Building destroyed. Home destroyed. Hearing loss. Her body began to shake, the tremors overtaking her. Monty wrapped his arms around her, willing his warmth to spread through her body.
“Baby, talk to me,” he implored, speaking on her left side.
She shook her head for a moment, unable to put her thoughts into coherent words. Swallowing deeply, she finally replied, “It’s all gone. I can’t believe it’s all gone.”
Pulling her face to his, he pressed his warm lips on her cold ones. He moved his hand over her hair, brushing the colors back from her face. His eyes roved over her shocked beauty. “Baby, you’re alive. You gotta focus on that.”
Her gaze held his, not wavering, as his strength seeped into her consciousness. The fog began to clear, gratitude edging out the shock. “You’re right. I’ve got to focus on that.” She allowed him to assist her from the bed and then she walked over to look down at her clothes. Holding up the ripped khaki pants and the pink polo with ACH embroidered over the breast, she turned, grim-faced to him. “But if I find out this was no accident I will hunt down the one who took this from me.”
He observed her determined face, remembering the woman holding a gun to a man she thought hurt her friend. Jesus, I’ve got to keep her safe and find out what the fuck is going on or she’s going to go rogue again.
*
Monty drove Angel to his home, glad the snow covered roads had been scraped. Pulling into the underground parking garage of his apartment building, he glanced over at her. Pale, quiet, dressed in borrowed clothes from Bethany.
Bethany had dropped the clothes by the hospital, offering a warm hug, and told her not to worry about anything. Angel had been grateful, but her thoughts were less accommodating. Sure. Don’t worry. I don’t see that happening.
Realizing the vehicle came to a stop, she looked around. Turning toward Monty, she said, “Are we here?”
“Yeah, baby.” He jumped down and hurried to the passenger side. Scooping her out of the seat, he planned on carrying her up, but she wiggled.
“I can walk,” she insisted, meeting his gaze.
“I know,” he agreed. Leaning in, his voice hoarse, “But when I think how closely I came to losing you now that I’ve found you…please, let me do this.”
She relaxed in his arms, the first smile in hours sliding across her face. “You’re right. There’s nothing I’ve lost that can’t be replaced.” She nuzzled his neck as he carried her to the elevator and up to his apartment.
As he opened the door, he hesitated. Searching her eyes, he confessed, “Angel, I know this place won’t remind you of home. It’s really just a place for me to retreat to, but you can do whatever you want to make it seem like yours.”
Her puzzled expression was replaced by understanding as they entered his apartment and he set her feet on the floor. The space was minimally furnished, with clean lines and no clutter. And no color. No personality. She grinned as she turned to him, remembering the Monty she first met. Very much like this apartment. “It’s fine, Monty. Thank you so much for having me here.”
It dawned on her that he always spent the night at her place. She had assumed it was so that she could be closer to her bakery but now realized that, while this place may have been his home before he met her…I am now his home. She raised up on her toes, kissing his jaw. The tangy taste of his aftershave plus his own scent was home to her. It was then the overpowering smell of smoke filled nostrils. My hair, she realized ruefully.
“Do I have time to shower?” she asked.
Never wanting to deny her anything, he glanced at his watch. “Yeah. The others will be here in about thirty minutes and so will the detectives and Fire Marshall. But remember, you need cotton in your ear.”
He escorted her through his apartment, giving her a quick tour. “The second bedroom is an office for me and there is a small bathroom down the hall.” He led her through the master bedroom and into the large master bathroom. A soaking tub was in the corner with a large, separate tiled shower stall next to it. A double sink graced the other wall and a door led to the private toilet.
He laid out a thick, plush towel and dug around for the cotton balls. “I don’t have anything here that would even remotely pass for feminine,” he confessed as he showed her the shower soap and shampoo.
Grinning, she admitted, “I think I’m really glad about that.”
Chuckling, he slid the shirt over her head and then clasped his hands to her hips. Moving them downward, he tucked his thumbs into the waistband of her pants and skimmed them off her legs. Her body, naked and glorious, was marred with cuts and bandages.
His smiled slipped as his fear poured through him once more. She noticed the change and lifted her injured arm to cup his face. “Hey, remember what you told me. I’m here. I’m alive.”
His lips found hers in a barely-there kiss. Pulling back, he heard her mewl of disappointment. “Gotta get you in the shower, babe.” He stayed in the bathroom as she stepped into the warm water, listened to her moans of delight as she washed her hair, and cringed at the whimpers of pain when the water touched her injuries. As the water turned off, he heard the doorbell.
“I’m going to go let in whoever’s gotten here first,” he said, handing her the thick, soft towel. “I’ll be back.”
“Go on,” she encouraged. “I’ll be out in five minutes.”
Angel dried off quickly, then slipped the borrowed clothes on once more. Standing in front of the large mirror, she perused herself. Her eyes dropped to her various injuries, then slowly moved upward. When she finally met her gaze in the mirror, she peered deeply into the shadows. If it wasn’t an accident, then someone tried to kill me. And it’s got to be the same someone who killed Marcia, Theresa, and Betty. Holding her gaze, she vowed, Don’t worry, girls. They will not get away with it!