Page 63 of From the Ashes

He must be the one that’s still trapped.

“I’m here! I’m here!” Yara yells, practically skidding to halt beside us with a gurney and her supply bag swinging across her body.

“Possible fractured arm,” I tell my partner, easing Mrs. Ross into her arms.

“I’m okay,” she sobs, pointing shakily with her uninjured arm. “My son! Please help him! He could be crushed!”

There goes any last trace of doubt.

Ice sweeps through me and I squeeze my eyes shut briefly, saying a silent prayer.

La hawla wa la quwwata illa billah.

“Male victim reportedly under more rubble,” I force myself to tell Yara quietly. Then before I can stop myself, I add, “It might be Colt.”

Yara jerks and stares at me. “Colt?YourColt?”

“It’s you!” Mr. Ross splutters as he climbs out from the rubble. As if my appearance is somehow a more outrageous shock to his day than an earthquake.

“Wait, you know Colton Ross?” the second, very attractive woman asks as she clambers her way out, ignoring Sawyer’s hand as he tries to help. She must be Portia. For some reason, she’s clutching a wine bucket to her ample chest. I try not to wonder why she was having lunch with Colt and his parents.

His life is literally on the line. Him making it out of this alive is all that matters. Not if he was on a date. That’s ridiculous. However, my poor, tattered heart isn’t exactly listening to reason right now.

“He’s my…” I go to answer Portia. But then I falter, watching as Sawyer and Anton dive through the opening, already tackling the area where the only man I’ve ever loved is apparently languishing underneath.

Even now, I can’t out him to his parents if I don’t have his consent.

“Delacroix,” Captain Valentine shouts. I snap my head to look at him. “What are you waiting for? Get in there and assist.”

Gratitude washes through my entire body as I lock eyes with him to make sure I heard him correctly. He nods once, his expression serious.

“Thank you,” I rasp before forcing my way through the narrow space. That’s why Valentine is such a great captain. Hedoesn’t need to understand everything to see that this isn’t any ordinary rescue to me.

The guys have already uncovered feet in a pair of once shiny brogues and a hand. “Sir, can you hear us?” Anton calls as I position myself to lever away a long slab of plasterboard.

“His name’s Colt,” I utter, putting my back into moving the debris. “Colton Ross.”

I try and brace myself for the possibility that we might be working to uncover a lifeless body. But I can’t accept it. There’s still hope. There’s always hope until we know for sure.

With a guttural snarl, I finally shift the chunk of wall out the way.

Revealing Colt’s slack, bloodstained face and torso.

“We have him!” Sawyer cries to the rest of the team. Half of them are still digging, and the other half are securing the structure with support beams and air bags so the rest of the building or that Sakura tree don’t crash on top of our heads as well.

“Is he alive?” Mrs. Ross sobs.

My fingers are already jammed into his neck as I stare at his chest. “He has a pulse!” I shout as his lungs inflate. “And he’s breathing!” I almost pass out myself with relief. Yara drops by my side, ready with an IV bag to get some fluids into him. “Colt! Can you hear me? It’s Zahir.”

Yara slides the line into his wrist without issue as I stimulate his sternum.

He moans.

“Colt?” I utter, aware that Dray has joined Sawyer and Anton in the widened space, helping to get the rest of the crap off Colt’s body. His right pant leg is torn, and his shin is bruised several colors, making me worry about a break.

He moans again, his limbs twitching. I use some bottled water to rinse the blood from around his eyes. Judging from thesmall red pool under his head, it seems he’s hit the back of his skull in addition to the cut on his forehead. They could both be superficial.

Or they could both be very serious indeed.

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