Page 72 of Middle Ground
“Rudy!”
Meyer waves to a passing firefighter. At her shout, the man changes course, heading for us. He removes his helmet and swipes a hand over his hair. It’s the fucking pizza guy again. He seems to be everywhere in this town.
“Meyer,” he says with a look of relief. “Make it out alright?”
She nods, waving away his concern as she stands. “I’m fine. What’s?—”
“Your hand.” Without wasting a second, he grabs her palm and begins to inspect it. “What happened?”
“I grabbed a doorknob that was a little toastier than normal.” She snatches her hand back. “I said I’mfine.”
Rudy raises a brow as amusement tilts his lips. “I thinkI'llbe the judge of that.”
I push myself to my feet, and then I cross my arms as I watch their exchange. Behind me, I can hear Wells chuckling to himself. Laughing at me. But I don’t give a shit.
Meyer scowls. “If you want to play nurse so bad, there’s your patient.” She points to me. “He inhaled a bunch ofsmoke and now sounds like he’s never lived a day without a cigarette.”
An ill-timed cough racks my lungs, proving Meyer right. Rudy abandons her hand and moves toward me.
“Don’t you make pizzas?” I ask skeptically. “Are you qualified for this?”
Rudy chuckles. “Pizzas are my day job. I’ve been a volunteer firefighter since I was eighteen.”
“He’ll take good care of you,” Meyer insists. “Please, Jackson?”
Fuck, I can’t say no when she sayspleaselike that. So I nod, resigned. She leans over and places a quick kiss on my cheek, and then she takes off for the front of the building. Pippa follows after her.
“Alright, follow me to my rig and I’ll get you set up with some oxygen,” Rudy says.
I begrudgingly trail after him. Wells walks beside me. I can feel his looks of concern.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m alright,” I say.
“You were just in afire, Jackson. You don’t have to be alright.”
“Well, I am.”
When Rudy hands me the oxygen mask, I take it and hold it to my face. Admittedly, it does help. Wells watches me approvingly, but my focus is on Meyer. She’s standing across the parking lot with Trystan and Pippa.
“It could have been her,” I say, pulling the mask away.
“What?” Wells asks.
I nod toward Meyer. “Pippa asked her to do inventory. It could have been her in that room.”
I don’t know what I would have done if she had been hurt. This was way too close of a call for my liking.
Wells shakes his head. “How would a fire even start in there? Faulty electrical?”
“I don’t know,” I reply.
And that is what worries me the most.
CHAPTER 25
JACKSON
By evening,the fire department had concluded that it was safe for people to return to the inn. Other than the damage to the storage room, there seemed to be no lasting impacts to the rest of the building, save for the smell of smoke that lingered in the air.
