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Run to Ground(47)



Stay back, Otto! Theo shouted in his head, but he didn’t have the breath for anything except taking one step at a time. He tried to hurry, tried to get Hugh to safety before Otto could get hurt as well, but his body would not obey, would not go any faster, and they were still much too exposed when Otto reached them.

Otto was a monster of a man—four inches taller than Theo’s six feet and with an extra fifty pounds of muscle. Between the two of them, they quickly shifted Hugh so his arms were over their shoulders, his weight divided between them. With enormous relief, Theo realized he could run that way, and he picked up speed. The staging area grew closer and closer, and a faint tendril of hope worked its way through Theo’s dread.

Theo felt the punch to his ribs before he heard the shot. He lurched sideways, only Otto and Theo’s grip on Hugh keeping him from falling. Otto visibly braced, supporting all three of them for a moment until Theo regained his balance.

“I’m fine,” Theo barked in answer to Otto’s concerned look. “Let’s go!”

They resumed their dash to safety, but every breath sent fire through Theo’s side. The distance between them and the staging area suddenly looked impossibly huge. His toe caught, making him stumble, and agony shot from his side through his whole body.

“You good?” Otto asked.

“Fine.” The word was a grunt. Theo needed all his air, all his energy, everything he had inside of him to keep going without dropping Hugh’s dead weight. No, he thought fiercely. Not dead. He had to believe Hugh would live, or Theo wouldn’t be able to make it.

“Stay with me, Theo,” Otto said.

Digging for his last reserves of strength, Theo plowed forward. The gap between them and safety narrowed with each painful, dragging step, and then they were surrounded, helping hands reaching for them, taking Hugh away, tugging on Theo’s arm in an attempt to get him to sit down.

Theo shook off the EMTs. “Help Hugh. I’m fine.”

“I’m concerned with how you’re breathing,” Claire, a serious-faced EMT in her forties told him.

“Bosco!” Lieutenant Blessard snapped, elbowing through the surrounding crowd. Theo braced himself for a lecture about ignoring orders and dragging Hugh into danger. “Sit your ass down and let them check you out.”

Surprised into compliance, Theo sat on the back bumper of a fire rescue truck. When an EMT—this one a redhead named Scott—reached toward the front of his vest, scissors in one hand, Theo waved him off and pulled at the Velcro fastenings, holding back a frustrated sound when his fingers wouldn’t stop shaking. “How’s Hugh?”

“Alive.” Although the LT’s tone was as gruff as always, the pat he gave Theo’s shoulder was almost gentle. An ambulance siren started to wail, making Theo jump and then wince as pain shot through his chest. Claire and the lieutenant exchanged a concerned look, and Theo held back an annoyed snarl, mentally cursing himself for showing his discomfort.

“That him?” Theo asked when the ambulance had gotten far enough away that the siren wasn’t deafening anymore. Frustrated by his fumbling fingers, he yanked at the vest, but all he achieved was an agonizing jolt through his ribs.

The lieutenant made an affirmative sound as he reached to help remove Theo’s protective vest. Theo started to protest, but swallowed his words as another shock of pain made all his muscles tighten. He wanted to skip the exam and go right to the get-to-the-hospital part, so he could find out the latest on Hugh’s condition.

“Where the hell is ERU?” Even as Theo growled the question, he spotted a convoy that included the Emergency Response Unit’s armored vehicle snaking its way toward their staging area.

Lieutenant Blessard pulled the last Velcro strap free so the vest opened like a clamshell, freeing Theo. Although the cool air felt great with just a sweat-soaked T-shirt covering his chest and back, his ribs gave a vengeful throb, as if the vest had been containing some of the pain. Theo bit the inside of his cheek as he struggled to keep his face expressionless. When Scott reached toward his T-shirt with scissors, this time Theo allowed him to cut the fabric. Putting his arms above his head to finish undressing seemed next to impossible.

“Better go debrief,” the LT muttered, but he didn’t move as the T-shirt was stripped away. Instead, Blessard kept his gaze dispassionately fixed on Theo’s side. A downward glance showed Theo that it was already bruising, the immediate red mottled with black. Claire pressed around the injured area, and Theo sunk his teeth into his inner cheek so hard that he tasted blood. He’d always gotten along with Claire, but he hadn’t realized she had such a sadistic streak. “Broken?”