The Night Belongs to Fireman Read Free Page B

surprised if anything worked in this car anymore. Inside, the four girls from the bachelorette party were squished together in the long, leather-covered seat, bent slightly forward, the crushed roof pressing against their heads. Rachel, crammed against the driver’s side door, was the only one still conscious. Maybe her small size had kept her from getting knocked out. She was hyperventilating, her breath coming in quick, wheezing gasps. She turned her head from its awkward position and fixed him with enormous eyes, purple in the pale illumination from the streetlights outside.
    â€œCan you . . . we have to get . . . help,” she gasped.
    â€œI’m going to get you out,” he said, sticking with the fire scene voice that always worked magic with panicking accident victims. “But I’m going to need your help, okay? I need you to take a good long breath.”
    He held her gaze until she gulped some air, and saw the most extreme edge of her panic subside.
    â€œThat’s good. That’s very good. The best thing you can do is keep calm. What’s your name? We were never formally introduced,” he added with a smile.
    She managed a whisper of a smile in response. “R . . . Rachel.”
    Thankfully, she seemed to be alert and not disoriented. His guess would be that her severely dilated pupils were due to panic, not a head injury. But panic could lead to injury, so keeping her calm was all-important. A glance at the door behind her told him it was much more damaged than the one on the passenger side. He’d have to work from this side, leaving her extraction for last. He hoped she was okay with that.
    â€œRachel. That’s a pretty name.”
    A quick flash of incredulity crossed her face. Idiot . She wasn’t a four-year-old. She didn’t need her name complimented. Still, any expression besides hysteria was a plus, so he considered it a win.
    He shifted his attention to the interior of the limo, assessing the conditions for extraction. The air reeked of alcohol. Nope, a four-year-old, she definitely wasn’t. They must have been having quite a party.
    â€œDon’t judge. It’s just champagne,” Rachel said, sounding annoyed. Good. Annoyance was a lot better than panic. “Cindy’s wedding’s in two days, so you have to get her out of here. She’s okay, isn’t she?”
    â€œOne thing at a time. Are you injured, Rachel? Does anything hurt?”
    â€œOh.” She examined her left arm, which looked as if the limo door had nearly squashed it. “Barely bruised. I was watching out the window and saw this truck tipping over and this huge construction thing falling. I tried to warn the driver, but . . . I’d know if anything major was broken, right?”
    â€œPossibly.” He didn’t want to explain that adrenaline masked the pain of a trauma.
    She glanced at him sharply, then dragged in a long, deep breath. He noticed that her hands were clenched so tightly on her seat belt that her fingernails were white. “Really, I’m okay. I don’t think I’m hurt.”
    â€œGood. Then let’s get you guys out of here. My name’s Fred, by the way. I’m a firefighter with special training in situations like these.”
    Of all things, she let out a burst of laughter. Slightly hysterical laughter, he noticed, as if she were clinging desperately to her control. “You’re Fred the Fireman?”
    â€œYes.” Though he wasn’t sure why that was so funny.
    â€œDo you know Thomas the Tank?”
    Oh. Now he saw what had set her off. “I’m familiar with his work, yes.”
    Her pale lips curved into a smile, or probably the closest thing she could manage at the moment. “And you have special training in smushed limos?”
    He gave her a rueful smile. Maybe a little entertainment would help her deal with the situation. “Among other things, sure.”
    â€œWhat exactly is