I didn’t want for him to risk his life for theirs. I simply wanted him to let me go, let me make the choice, make the sacrifice if it had to be made.
But not Jake.
Never Jake.
A burn more devastating than ten fiery buildings is consuming my heart as I watch the very spot where I saw him disappear into the flames. My entire being, my entire world is focused on that one sliver like my life depends on what comes back out.
Because it does.
I won’t be able to live with myself if Jake doesn’t come back out. I won’t be able to survive the rest of my days without him. And knowing that he died to save the people I love . . .
I crumble inside the arms that restrain me, my legs no longer strong enough to support me. I hear someone screaming Jake’s name in the distance. The voice sounds like mine, but it can’t be. It can’t be me. I can’t move. I can’t speak. I can’t even think past the mind-numbing panic that’s coursing through my body, through my soul. All I can do is stare, stare at the place where I saw him last and wait . . .
It seems an eternity has passed when I see movement. My lungs cease to expand, my heart ceases to beat until I see the clear form of Jake cutting through the haze. My relief is more profound than any emotion I’ve ever experienced.
Until he lays down his human cargo and turns to go back inside.
The arms that held me suddenly disappear, and I see people rush to the man lying prone on the ground. After a few seconds, I see my mother come into my view, falling to her knees beside the person just sitting up. It’s my father. I squeeze my eyes shut over my tears when I see him wrap one arm around her shoulders and lean into her.
But then an even more painful realization slices through me. Jake went back in.
To get Shane.
He’s risking his life for a man like Shane. Because he thinks it matters to me.
The tears come freely now, and without end. I sit on the ground, surrounded by hurt people and emergency workers and stretches of hose, and my heart melts right inside my chest.
“Please God, please God, please God!” is all I can make out. Over and over and over again. Every nerve, every cell, every bit of light that I am as a person cries out to Him for mercy. And I watch the doorway . . .
When Jake appears this time, he sets down the body he’s carrying. As he turns, stripping off his helmet as he goes, his eyes search for me. I struggle to my feet, to stand until he can see me.
And he does.
And he waits.
He waits for me.
Maybe like he’s always waited for me.
Like I’ve always waited for him.
THIRTY-SIX: Jake
I watch Laney take shaky step after shaky step toward me. Toward us. Shane, her fiancé, is lying in the grass just behind me. If ever there was a choice for her to make, now’s the time. Her actions will speak volumes. And I’ll do nothing to influence them.
Closer and closer she gets. Harder and harder my heart beats. What will she do? What will she do?
When she’s five or six steps from me, she glances down at Shane and my chest gets tight. But then, as if she was only paying him the simplest of courtesies, she launches herself into my arms and smashes her lips to mine.
I’ve always heard Jenna and her friends go on and on about all the different things a kiss can mean. Now I think I understand what they were talking about.
In this kiss is declaration. In it is acceptance. In it is passion and perseverance, hope and happiness. In it is everything I’ve ever needed and everything I never thought I’d want. It’s everything because she’s everything.
All the voices, all the sounds, all the activity around us is muted when she leans back and looks deep into my eyes. “You saved me, Jake.”
I smile. “You saved me first.”
For a few seconds, I think of spilling my guts, right here in the middle of a disaster area. But I think better of it when I hear a voice to my left.
“All right, hero, was there anyone else inside?” Chip asks. “If not, we need to get these flames put out and wrap this up.”
Leave it to a guy to interrupt such a great moment. I feel like snarling at him, Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here?
But I guess my personal affairs are actually doing the interrupting. I’m here to do a job. To save lives and put out fires.
One down.
One to go.
I set Laney on her feet and wipe away a smudge from her pale cheek with my gloved finger. “Are you all right? Really?”
Her smile is wide and bright, and she nods enthusiastically. “I know it sounds weird, but I’ve never been better.”
I grin down at her. I know just what she means.
“I’ve gotta finish up here. I’ll find you later, ’kay?”
She nods again, her smile still intact. “Okay, I’m gonna go check on Daddy.”
She walks backward for a few steps, as reluctant to leave me as I am for her to go.
“Stay away from this building,” I say as I move toward the side of the hall, getting ready to replace my helmet. “You hear?”
She nods again and turns to walk to her father. I round the smoking structure to make my way to the back, to put this baby to bed.
* * *
Almost six hours later, I’m on my way home. The chief called in the backup shift to help with cleanup, which is something the bigger fire departments don’t get involved in. But Greenfield is small, and it’s more a neighborly gesture than anything else. With the reinforcements onsite, it allows those of us who were first-responders to come home for a break before resuming our shift.
My first thought was to go to Laney, but that might not be the best thing. If she’s still at the hospital being medically cleared with the other people from the church (which I heard had the ER backed up for hours) then there’s no reason for me to bother her there. If she’s at home sleeping, I definitely don’t want to bother her there. So I figure the best thing I can do is wait until morning. What I have to say can wait until then. It’s waited this long . . .
Coming down my driveway, my headlights hit a patch of blue just barely visible through the trees. That’s when I know I won’t have to wait. Laney’s at my house.
I pull up and park beside her car. The house is dark. I’m assuming she’s asleep since it’s late and she had a big night.
I cut the engine and get out, reaching into the back to get my gear. I jump when I hear a soft voice from the opposite side of the Jeep.
“Took you long enough.”
“Holy hot damn! You scared the shit out of me!”