“Devyn! Christ.”
She’s hidden behind a wide support beam, her arms bound behind her. She’s not wearing a jacket, and her lips have turned blue in the cold.
I pat her cheek. “Devyn, come on, baby. Open your eyes.”
She doesn’t respond, and her head lolls, her chin resting against her chest. She’s out, and I don’t know if they hit her, if it’s from a Sweet overdose, or if they drugged her with something else. My hands are shaking, and I pull out McAllister’s keys and use one to saw through the zip tie securing her wrists together. I try not to cut her, but it’s difficult to see in the dark. She slumps over when it comes apart, and quickly, I pull my jacket off, drag her into my lap, and cover her the best I can. She needs my body heat, and I tuck her head under my chin.
With my arms wrapped around her, I dial 911 and tell them where we are. I hang up on the dispatch determined to ask me questions and call Beau.
“I found her. She’s at the site. I don’t know what’s wrong with her—she’s unconscious.” My words are jumbled, my teeth chattering from cold and fear.
“Fuck. Did you call an ambulance?”
“Yeah,” I say, and I swallow back shame I can’t carry her to the truck and drive her to the ER myself. “She’s on the second floor. I need their help because I can’t get down with her in my arms.”I’m not man enough.I push the thought away. This isn’t about me. Not right now.
“The second floor? Why in the hell would they do that?”
“So I couldn’t find her before she died of hypothermia? They hoped I would hurt myself looking for her? She’s so cold, Beau. They left her here without a coat.”
“Listen,” he says urgently, and I focus on his voice instead of the guilt eating at me, “she hasn’t been out there long, do you hear me? It hasn’t been that long since she and Talia were at the rehab center. She’s going to be okay. You found her.”
“Tell me what’s going on!” Talia demands in the background, her voice full of tears.
“Rick found her,” he says, his mouth away from the phone. “We’ll meet them at the hospital.”
Talia whimpers, and fabric rustles, sounding like Beau pulled her in for a hug.
He stays on the line with me until the ambulance sirens wail in the distance.
I forget about him when the EMTs converge on the site, breaking the fence door off its hinges in their efficient effort to find their way inside with a gurney two medics carry between them. I’m in too much pain to drag her to the edge, and I call out, alerting them to where we are. A tiny woman with her hair pulled back into a ponytail hoists a black medical duffle bag onto the second floor using the same method I did to climb up. She quickly inserts an IV needle into the back of Devyn’s hand in preparation for other treatment and checks her pulse with her fingers pressed to Devyn’s neck, counting the time using a watch fastened onto her wrist.
Once she declares Devyn stable, two others climb up and help lift her across the second floor and lower her onto the foundation. They assist me too, one assessing me when I’m shakily standing on solid ground, beads of sweat rolling down my face from the exertion. “Do you need medical attention, sir?” he asks, watching me lean against a support beam, heaving from pain, fear, and blame.
I shake my head. “See to her first.”
He shoots me a dubious look, but there’s no time to argue.
Sitting in the back of the ambulance, I hold her hand the entire way to the hospital, and I don’t break our connection until they wheel her away.