The numbers on the screen were replaced with a name as the phone began to ring, and Travis’ eyes widened when he read the display. The phone was at his ear with a blurring movement.
“Trent?” A surprised laugh escaped his lips, and a smile broke out on his face as he looked at me, “It’s Trent!” I gasped and squeezed his arm as he spoke. “Where are you? What do you mean you’re at Morgan? I’ll be there in a second, don’t you fucking move!”
I surged forward, my feet struggling to keep up with Travis as he sprinted across the campus, dragging me behind him. When we reached Morgan, my lungs were screaming for air. Trent ran down the steps, crashing into both of us.
“Jesus H. Christ, brother! I thought you were toast!” Trent said, squeezing us so tightly I couldn’t breathe.
“You ASSHOLE!” Travis screamed, shoving his brother away. “I thought you were fucking dead! I’ve been waiting for the firefighters to carry your charred body from Keaton!”
Travis frowned at Trent for a moment, and then pulled him into a hug. His arm shot out, fumbling around until he felt my shirt, and then pulled me into a hug as well. After several moments, Travis released Trent, keeping me close beside him.
Trent looked at me with an apologetic frown. “I’m sorry, Abby. I panicked.”
I shook my head. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Me? I would have been better off dead if Travis had seen me come out of that building without you. I tried to find you after you ran off, but then I got lost and had to find another way. I walked along the building looking for that window, but I ran into some cops and they made me leave. I’ve been flippin’ the fuck OUT over here!” he said, running his hand over his short hair.
Travis wiped my cheeks with his thumbs, and then pulled up his shirt, using it to wipe the soot from his face. “Let’s get out of here. The cops are going to be crawling all over the place soon.”
After hugging his brother once more, we walked to America’s Honda. Travis watched me buckle my seat belt and then frowned when I coughed.
“Maybe I should take you to the hospital. Get you checked out.”
“I’m fine,” I said, interlacing my fingers in his. I looked down, seeing a deep cut across his knuckles. “Is that from the fight or the window?”
“The window,” he answered, frowning at my bloodied nails.
“You saved my life, you know.”
His eyebrows pulled together. “I wasn’t leaving without you.”
“I knew you’d come,” I smiled, squeezing his fingers between mine.
We held hands until we arrived at the apartment. I couldn’t tell whose blood was whose as I washed the crimson and ash from my skin in the shower. Falling into Travis’ bed, I could still smell the stench of smoke and smoldering skin.
“Here,” he said, handing me a short glass filled with amber liquid, “It’ll help you relax.”
“I’m not tired.”
He held out the glass again. His eyes were exhausted, blood shot and heavy. “Just try to get some rest, Pidge.”
“I’m almost afraid to close my eyes,” I said, taking the glass and gulping the liquid down.
He took the glass and set it on the night stand, sitting beside me. We sat in silence, letting the last hours sink in. I shut my eyes tight when the memories of the terrified cries of those trapped in the basement filled my mind. I wasn’t sure how long it would take me to forget, or if I ever would.
Travis’ warm hand on my knee pulled me from my conscious nightmare. “A lot of people died tonight.”
“I know.”
“We won’t find out until tomorrow just how many.”