Chapter Twenty-Nine

Lacy hid in her bedroom, unable to stop crying. Zack was one of the kindest guys but she wanted Jake. Only Jake! His pillow was wet, and she was losing the scent of him because she couldn’t stop the torrent pouring out of her eyes. She raged against the evil man who’d hurt Jake as much as the Coast Guard who’d failed to find him. Yes, the weather was bad, but wasn’t that their job? Their specialty? Weren’t they the mighty protectors of the Potomac?

Damn, damn, damn!

Lacy’s heart and soul hurt. Rationality got lost between her out of control rage and her soul-numbing grief. The hole in her heart took everything good out of her. She’d become one of those bombed airliners whose passengers were sucked out and tossed to the universe while it went down in a ball of flames. Black flames. Hopeless black flames. At Christmas! The time for peace on earth and all that other bullshit.

Damn, damn, damn!

Zack thumped on her bedroom door, but she debated answering. She’d turned inward, back to the demented woman she really was. He needed to leave her alone. “Go away,” she told him and the rest of the world. Leave me alone. Please just leave me alone!

Another louder thump hit her door, and she caved. Gulping past the lump of mixed-up emotions in her throat, she rolled off the mattress and padded to the door with her hair in her face. Zack didn’t deserve what she’d deteriorated into.

Combing all ten fingers through her mane, she pushed it out of her eyes and mostly back where it belonged. She wiped the tears off her cheeks and then wiped her hands on her pants. Zack needed to go home to his wife and kids, so she could cry and scream however and wherever, as long as she wanted. And she wanted.

Stifling another hiccupping sob, she pulled her door open. But it wasn’t Zack leaning on her bedroom door with his forehead pressed wearily to his wrist. It was a very wet and very tired looking black man. “Jamaal?” she asked, not believing her eyes. “What the—”

“I got away from them bastards, Lace. It weren’t easy, but then I got him. I got Jake,” he gasped. “Damned near got us both killed getting here, but I got him.”

“Jake?” she shrieked.

Alex stood drenched right behind Jamaal. “Get your coat,” he ordered hoarsely. “We’ve got someone you need to see. Step on it.”

She flew, snagging Jake’s denim jacket off the back of her couch. Shuffling into a pair of flip-flops on her way out the door, she was ready to run.

Alex stopped her. “Real shoes, damn it. It’s December.”

She would’ve argued, but he was right. She wasn’t thinking clearly, not one bit. Tossing the beachwear, she pushed her feet into her worn clinic slip-ons. “Where is he?”

“Downstairs,” Jamaal answered. “I almost made it back when this guy here ’bout ran over the top of me.”

“Dumbass,” Alex growled and waved his hand at them to follow him down the stairwell. “You should’ve gone straight to the authorities. Hell, you probably passed a dozen Coasties on your way here. They would have helped get him to a hospital.”

“Doubt that,” Jamaal muttered. “They’d have put him in jail. Poindexter’s still on the loose, you know. He would’ve killed us both if—”

“Poindexter’s in son-of-a-bitchin’ custody,” Alex growled. “Two of my guys caught up with him. He never made it to his helo pad.”

Lacy listened as much as she could to the information flying back and forth, but her heart was pounding out of control once more, making it hard to think, and these were big guys she was running down the stairs with. Fast big guys who could run. She couldn’t keep up. Nonetheless, Alex stopped at the ground floor door and held it for her to exit first.

“Paramedics haven’t left yet,” he said even as he shot another dark look at Jamaal. “Climb in. They won’t wait.”

A blue uniformed medic waved her to the rear gate of the ambulance. “Over here, ma’am. You need to hurry.”

She climbed onboard, and there he was. Jake. Her heart pinched at the sight of him, gray, lifeless, and glassy-eyed, but—thank God! He’s alive. Isn’t he?

Lacy looked closer. They’d stripped him bare and wrapped him in heated blankets. His eyes were open, black and sunken, but he didn’t move. Didn’t even shiver. She wasn’t sure he was breathing. “Is he…?”

When the medic crouching over Jake didn’t meet her eyes or answer her unfinished question, Lacy’s heart sank. This was no happy reunion. They were just going through the motions, giving her time to say goodbye.

“Don’t even think it,” Alex barked behind her. “He isn’t dead. These guys aren’t qualified to declare time of death, are you?”

The grim professional at Jake’s side didn’t speak, just pinched his lips in a tight line like he had something to say, but didn’t dare.

“You’ll take extra good care of my man there, won’t you?” Zack asked pointedly. “Because that guy’s a decorated war hero, and he deserves every last lifesaving measure you fellows have up your sleeves.”

The medic looked up from his array of tools and supplies at the implied threat. “What do you think I’m doing?” he bit out. “Back off. Let me do my job.”

Zack mellowed and took a step back. “Yes, sir. Meet you there, Lacy,” he said before he closed the door, locking her inside with Jake.

“Friends of yours?” the medic whom Zack scolded, asked.

She didn’t get a chance to answer. A terse female voice came over the radio snapped to his collar. He passed Jake’s stats to the woman on the other end of the line while she barked medical terms Lacy didn’t understand back to him. Only one term stood out from the others. Her worst fear. Hypothermic.

Slowly the ambulance pulled away from the curb, but the EMT kept working on Jake. “Someone cut him up pretty good,” he muttered as he slid a stethoscope beneath the blanket to the center of Jake’s chest. “He’s lost a lot of blood. Just so you know, I’ve already given him one unit of O negative. We’ve packed him with heat packs, but ma’am...” His gentle dark eyes pierced straight to her gut. “I don’t want to get your hopes up. Cardiac dysrhythmia is the real threat here, not his wound and not his temp.”

“Are you telling me his heart stopped?” she asked quietly as the vehicle rolled quickly over the Pennsylvania Avenue Bridge and into D.C. proper. “Is he dead? Is that why his eyes are open?”

“No, ma’am. I’m telling you that ventricular fibrillation is the number one killer of all hypothermic victims. His buddy back there might’ve thought he was helping by dragging this guy home, but that’s the worst thing he could’ve done. He should’ve left him on the frozen ground and gone for help. Guys who’ve been in the river when it’s this cold shouldn’t be moved, especially not carried over someone’s back like he was. The heart can only take so much. And his eyes are open because he’s in a coma.”

“His name is Jake,” Lacy whispered. She lifted Jake’s icy hand from beneath the blanket and encapsulated it within hers. “This is USMC Sergeant Jake Weylin. He’s one of the best men alive, and that man who carried him is Corporal Jamaal McCune. You need to know that a good Marine never leaves his buddy behind.” She hated that her voice rapped up with every word, but these men were heroes. The world needed to fucking know that!

The medic blew out a patient sigh. “I get that, ma’am. I was Army. I saw my fair share. Let’s just hope his buddy didn’t kill this Marine tonight by saving his life.”