Page 90 of Jump

So many fucking people.

So many of my own crew.

“Oh god. It was a fire.” I push past Sloane, and practically trip on Ivy.

I follow the corresponding line on the floor, my heart in my throat and a million worst-case scenarios slinging through my brain.

She’s dead.

She’s unconscious.

She’s hurt, and all she wanted was for me to return her fucking call!

“Viv!” I yank the nearest curtain open, only to expose someone I don’t know. “Shit, sorry.” I shove the curtain back in place and grab the next. But before I can move it, I catch Hannah’s worried expression at the very last bay.

“Oh god.” Nausea rolls in my belly and leaves me breathless. “Hannah?”

The tears burning the backs of her eyes make my knees weak, but she absorbs my blow when I reach where she is, and pats my back when I desperately search in the direction she faces.

But I don’t find a dead body. I don’t come upon an unconscious Vivian. Instead, she’s sitting up on her stretcher, a small smile on her face, and playing a card game with a familiar seven-year-old girl who sits opposite her, her legs folded crisscross.

“Vivian!” Her name explodes from my throat, and my relief almost sends me sprawling to the floor.

Her eyes snap up to mine, and soften when she searches my expression. “I’m okay, Matt. Everything’s fine.”

“What the hell happened?” I grab Juniper under her arms and swing her to her feet and out of my way, then I cup Viv’s face and will my heart to slow. Beg my racing mind to stop the torture. “Where are you hurt?” I tilt her head to the left, then to the right. “What the hell happened?”

“It’s noth—”

“Vivian!”

“We had an intruder at Friendly Paws.” Her voice thickens as her words come tumbling out. “He, uh… well, I guess he figured I keep cash there or something. Jase had gone to town to pick up some stuff, so I was there alone, and this dude walked in.”

“A dude?” I search the eyes of my crew as they stroll closer. Their expressions morose. Their body language, withdrawn. But I get nothing else from them, so I bring my gaze back to Viv. “You had an intruder?”

“He had a knife.” Her voice trembles, ever so slightly. “He wanted money, and he got cranky when I had none to give him.”

“He could have killed you!” I yank her closer and slam her face to my chest. Looking up at the ceiling, I blink, blink, blink my eyes clear so I don’t cry in public and make a dick of myself. “Jesus, Viv. He would have slit your throat and walked away.”

“I mean…” She pulls back to wipe beneath her nose, the stark white of a bandage wrapped around her forearm stunning me into pained silence. “He could have. But a sickly German Shepherd had been dumped in our cages overnight—that’s why Jase was in town,” she explains shakily. “We needed the vet, but their line was out for some reason. So Jase headed over there, and I stayed with the dog. He’s really skinny, Matt. Really unwell.” Finally, her eyes burn red and well up. “He’s weak, but he protected me. He didn’t even know me, but he took care of me.”

“So he eats steak for the rest of his life,” Axel declares, drawing my eyes across as shame washes through my blood.

I should’ve answered his calls. I should’ve been a better person.

“Alarms went up,” he murmurs. “Cops were called. Fire and ambulance, too. Standard operating procedure,” he adds. “I tried to get you on the phone.”

“I’m sorry.” I twist back to face Viv and press a kiss to her lips. “I’m sorry, Ana. I should’ve been there.”

“The dog’s in surgery,” she mumbles, my hands on her face impeding her speech ever so slightly. “Beckett took him in right away. But I don’t…” Her jaw trembles. “I don’t know if he’s strong enough to get better.”

“He took a knife to the gut,” Nixon inserts quietly. “He took her knife, and ripped that asshole’s face off. But now the pooch is fighting for his life, and there’s only so much Beck can do.”

“Do you have an update?” I hold Viv, but I look at my boss. “How’s surgery going?”

He drops his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “We’re still in the woods, and will be for a few days yet. Beckett’s doing what he can, but in the end, it’s gonna be up to the dog’s will to live.”

Grunting at the grossly unsatisfying answer, I bring my eyes back around to Viv and press a kiss to her plump lips. To the end of her nose. To the center of her forehead, and work hard not to catastrophize and dwell on what could have been.

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