Ethan carefully removed his jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair.
A stabbing pain shot through his shoulder every time he moved his arm. The discomfort was concentrated just beneath his shoulder blade, where something hard remained lodged under his shirt.
He tried to reach the wound over his shoulder, but barely managed to brush it with his fingertips. He tried again, this time reaching behind his back, and a bolt of pain forced him to stop.
—Damn it...
He did not need to see the object to know what it was.
The perpetrator had turned the cat's mutilated body into part of the explosive. Its bones had acted as shrapnel, scattering throughout the room at the moment of detonation.
After watching him try several times without success, Taylor rose from the couch.
She was still pale. Her hair was disheveled, dust clung to her clothes, and there were several small bloodstains on them that did not belong to her. Despite that, she walked over to him.
—Let me help you.
Ethan turned his head slightly.
—You don't have to.
—I know.
The firmness in her voice barely concealed the trembling in her hands.
Ethan finally nodded and turned his back to her.
His shirt was soaked around the shoulder. The blood had formed a large, dark stain across the fabric, and the contrast made the sight even more unsettling.
Taylor swallowed.
—You'll have to take it off.
Ethan grabbed the bottom of his shirt and began lifting it, but the movement pulled at the wound and made him grimace. Taylor helped him carefully ease it over his head.
Once his back was exposed, she saw a small laceration beneath his shoulder blade. Blood trickled slowly down his skin, and the whitish tip of a jagged fragment protruded from the center of the wound.
Taylor suppressed a gag. It was a piece of bone.
—It's lodged pretty deep.
—No more than a couple of centimeters —Ethan replied—. You can pull it out.
—Are you sure?
—Yes. Grip it as close to the skin as possible and pull at the same angle it went in.
Taylor took a clean piece of gauze from the first-aid kit Chloe had placed on the table. She wrapped it around the end of the fragment to keep it from slipping and rested her other hand on Ethan's shoulder.
His skin was warm, and the muscles in his back remained tense.
—This is going to hurt.
—I've had worse days.
Taylor took a deep breath before pulling.
The fragment resisted for a moment before suddenly coming free. A thin stream of fresh blood ran down his back, but he did not make a sound.
Taylor stared at the object between her fingers.
It was slightly more than two centimeters long. Thin and sharp, with one edge broken unevenly. If Ethan had not thrown himself over her when the package exploded, that fragment could have ended up lodged in her neck, her back, or even her face.
The image turned her stomach.
—This hit you because of me —she murmured.
Ethan turned toward her.
—It hit me because some sick bastard planted a bomb. None of this is your fault.
Taylor looked up at him. She was still holding the bone between her fingers.
Ethan carefully took the fragment from her and placed it inside a small evidence bag. Then he took another piece of gauze and pressed it against the wound.
Taylor did not look away.
—Do you need to go to the hospital?
—That won't be necessary. Emergency services are already on their way. They'll clean the wound, put in a couple of stitches, and I'll be as good as new by morning.
—You were just hit by shrapnel from a bomb.
—And I'm still having a better day than the guy who was supposed to be guarding the entrance.
The answer darkened Taylor's expression.
Ethan immediately regretted it. Billy was injured, even though the circumstances increasingly pointed toward someone on her own security team.
—I'm sorry —he said more quietly—. I shouldn't have put it that way.
Taylor slowly shook her head.
—No. It's okay. I just... still can't believe it happened.
Nothing else appeared to be embedded in the wound.
—Does it hurt? —she asked.
—A little.
Once the bleeding subsided, he put his shirt back on, although the damp fabric almost immediately clung to the wound. Then he escorted Taylor to the couch, where Chloe and Megan were waiting in silence.
—Stay here —he instructed them—. Don't separate, and don't touch anything.
Hank was waiting near the entrance, speaking to dispatch and coordinating the arrival of the Intelligence team. When he saw Ethan return, he noticed the bloodstain on his shirt.
—Are you okay?
—Just a scratch.
After making sure the women remained under guard, the two of them continued working. They checked the windows, the service doors, and every possible access point to the property.
The explosion had not been improvised. The perpetrator knew exactly what to send, when to send it, and how to ensure the package reached Taylor.
Ten minutes later, Ethan stepped outside alone through the back of the house.
The icy wind struck him as soon as he crossed the threshold. The temperature had dropped, and the accumulated snow crunched beneath his shoes.
He walked the perimeter with a flashlight, checking the fence, the side alley, and the area around the dumpsters. He searched for footprints, tire tracks, fibers caught on the fence, or any sign that someone had been watching the property.
He found nothing.
After an entire day of wind and snow, any recent tracks had been distorted beyond use. Even if the perpetrator had been there, the weather had erased all evidence of his presence.
A red glow appeared between the trees.
Two vehicles approached along the street and stopped in front of the property. They had turned off their sirens before entering the neighborhood, although their emergency lights continued to bathe the snow in red and white.
The first vehicles were Ambulances 61 and 64. Behind them, Truck 81 from Chicago Firehouse 51 came to a stop.
The ambulance doors opened, and Gabriela Dawson climbed out with a medical bag in her hand. Leslie Shay stepped out from the other side, carrying the monitor and a second emergency kit.
The men from Truck 81 began securing the exterior while Captain Casey spoke with one of the uniformed officers.
Gabriela recognized Ethan as soon as she saw him.
Gabriela approached with the medical bag in one hand. When she stopped in front of Ethan, she studied him for a moment, as though comparing him to a description she had heard before.
—You must be Detective Morgan.
Ethan raised an eyebrow slightly.
—In the flesh. Do we know each other?
—You haven't had the pleasure yet, but I know plenty about you.
Her gaze immediately dropped to the large bloodstain covering the back and part of the side of his shirt.
—Sit down over there. I'm going to examine your wound.
Ethan looked down, as though he had only just noticed it.
Shay appeared beside her and looked him over from head to toe.
—What happened here?
—The explanation is a little complicated.
—It always is when Intelligence is involved —she replied.
Ethan glanced toward the house.
—There's someone else with more serious injuries.
—The 64 will handle him —Gabriela replied—. You're here, your shirt is soaked in blood, and you're not taking another step until we examine that wound.
—It's just a cut.
Shay pointed at the front step with two fingers.
—Sit.
—I can stand.
—Perfect. Then you can also sit down without assistance.
Gabriela suppressed a smile.
—Do what she says. It's better not to argue.
Ethan finally obeyed and sat on the step. The movement pulled at the wound beneath his shirt, sending a sharp pain through his shoulder blade.
Shay set the monitor on the ground while Gabriela pulled on a pair of gloves.
—Raise your arm.
Ethan lifted his arm completely without any trouble.
—Does it hurt? —Gabriela asked.
—A little. On a scale of one to ten, a two.
Ethan regarded her with some curiosity. There was something familiar about the way she spoke, although he could not identify what it was.
Gabriela carefully grasped the edge of his shirt.
—We need to take this off.
—It's stuck to the wound.
—I know. That's why you shouldn't make any sudden movements.
Shay picked up a pair of trauma shears.
—I have a quick solution.
—This is my favorite shirt —Ethan said.
Before he could protest, Shay cut the fabric from his side up to his shoulder.
—I don't see any fragments —she reported—. The entry wound is small but deep. You'll need stitches and antibiotics. We also have to make sure the bone didn't carry dirt or contaminated tissue into the wound.
—You can do that here.
—We can clean it and close it temporarily —Gabriela replied—, but you should go to Chicago Med for an X-ray.
—I can't leave the scene.
—That wasn't a suggestion.
Shay began preparing gauze and saline solution.
—What hit you?
Ethan took the evidence bag containing the fragment from his pocket and showed it to her.
Gabriela held it up to the light.
—Is this bone?
—From the cat they put inside the explosive package.
Shay stopped opening the gauze wrapper and looked at him.
—Someone used a cat as shrapnel?
—It appears so.
—Every day, I find another reason to lose faith in humanity.
Gabriela handed the bag back to him.
—Who removed the fragment?
—One of the people inside.
—Did you tell her to do it?
—I couldn't reach it.
Ethan fell silent for a second.
—Yes.
Gabriela shook her head as she moistened a piece of gauze.
—Antonio was right. You're difficult.
Ethan turned his face toward her.
—You know Antonio?
Gabriela paused.
—I'm his sister.
Ethan's surprise was evident.
—You're Gabriela?
—Gabby to almost everyone, but yes, that idiot is my brother.
Ethan studied her more closely. Now that he knew, he could see a certain resemblance in their features and, above all, in the firmness with which she held his gaze.
—Antonio never mentioned that his sister worked as a paramedic.
—Probably because our conversations usually consist of him telling me to be careful and me reminding him that I can take care of myself.
—That certainly sounds like Antonio.
—It's a family habit —Shay interjected—. The Dawsons think they can protect everyone except themselves.
—Don't listen to her —Gabriela said as she began cleaning the wound—. This is going to sting.
The saline solution came into contact with the exposed flesh.
Shay smiled as she took his vital signs.
—Blood pressure is normal. Pulse is slightly elevated.
—I just had a piece of bone driven into my back. Let's say it came as a surprise.
—That would explain the pulse —she replied—. It could also be because of the famous blonde woman who hasn't stopped staring at you from the doorway.
Shay returned with a sterile patch in her hand but abruptly stopped when she looked toward the entrance of the house.
Taylor stood by the door, hugging herself against the cold. Her hair was disheveled, her face was pale, and dust still clung to her clothes. Even so, she was impossible not to recognize.
Shay's eyes widened.
—Damn... That's Taylor Swift —she murmured, lightly striking Gabriela with the back of her hand—. My damn day just got better.
Ethan turned his head to look at her.
—I'm glad to know a bomb could brighten your night.
Shay's smile immediately vanished.
—I know —she replied, lowering her voice.
Gabriela took the patch from her hand and began opening the wrapper.
—Shay, focus.
—I am focused. She just caught me by surprise.
Shay cast another discreet glance toward the door. Taylor was speaking with Megan, although she occasionally looked at Ethan to make sure the paramedics were still treating him.
—I'm a huge fan of hers —Shay admitted—. Seriously, a huge fan.
Ethan regarded her skeptically.
—You don't seem like the type of person who listens to songs about broken hearts.
—Everyone has feelings, Detective.
Gabriela had to suppress a smile as she cleaned the blood from around the wound.
Shay leaned slightly closer to Ethan.
—Do you think she'd mind if I asked for an autograph?
Gabriela immediately looked up.
—Shay, we're working. Act like a professional.
—I can be professional and want an autograph at the same time.
—Someone just tried to kill her —Ethan pointed out—. This may not be the best time.
Shay grimaced as the realization sank in.
—Yeah, you're right. Definitely not the best time.
—We haven't even been at the scene for five minutes —Gabriela added—. We still don't know how many people are injured or whether the location is secure.
—I already said I was sorry.
Shay crouched beside Ethan and began preparing the clean patch. Her excitement had vanished, once again replaced by the concentration of a paramedic.
—Patients first —she said as she prepared a rabies vaccine—. My questionable decisions as a fan come afterward.
—Much later —Gabriela emphasized.
She then administered the injection into Ethan's arm as a precaution. They did not know whether the animal had been infected or carried any disease, so they gave him a cocktail of medications.
—Understood.
Taylor must have overheard part of the conversation because she slowly walked over. Megan remained a few steps behind her.
—How is he? —she asked, looking at Ethan's wound.
—Stable —Gabriela replied—. The fragment doesn't appear to have reached the bone or the joint, but he needs an X-ray to make sure nothing was left inside.
Taylor nodded, visibly relieved.
Shay kept her attention on the patch, making an obvious effort not to look directly at her.
Taylor noticed.
—Are you okay?
Shay looked up.
—Me?
—It looks like you're trying not to look at me.
Gabriela closed her eyes for a moment.
—Please don't encourage her.
Shay cleared her throat and tried to adopt a serious expression.
—I'm a huge fan of your music, but this isn't the time or the place. I'm sorry if my reaction was inappropriate.
Taylor studied her for a second before giving her a tired smile.
—It's all right. After tonight, I'm glad to know someone is happy to see me.
—Trust me, I'd normally be much more excited.
—She already was —Ethan remarked—. She just tried to hide it.
Shay deliberately pressed the sterile patch against his wound.
Ethan grimaced. Taylor let out a brief laugh. It was soft and lasted barely a moment, but it was the first time she had shown anything other than fear since the explosion.
Shay finished securing the adhesive patch over his shoulder blade.
—When this is all over and you're safe... maybe I can ask for that autograph.
Gabriela looked at her in disbelief.
—Seriously?
—I said when it's all over.
Taylor nodded.
—When this is over, I'll give you one.
Shay immediately smiled.
—Then we're definitely going to make sure everyone gets out of here safely.
—That was already part of your job —Gabriela reminded her.
—Now I have extra motivation.
Ethan shook his head.
Shay patted him on his uninjured shoulder. Gabriela gathered the used supplies and placed them in the medical waste bag.
—All right, conversation over. Shay, prepare the ambulance. I'll finish examining him.
Shay stood and, before walking away, looked at Taylor one more time.
—By the way, my favorite song is All Too Well.
Gabriela pointed a finger at her.
—Ambulance. Now.
—I'm going.
Shay headed toward the vehicle with a smile she could not conceal.
Ethan watched her go before turning back to Gabriela.
—Is she always like that?
—No, but she's always that entertaining —Gabriela replied as she pulled on a fresh pair of gloves.
Ethan turned his head slightly.
He remained silent for several seconds until her expression became more serious.
—I wanted to meet you.
—Why?
—Because of Diego.
Ethan stopped looking toward the house.
—Antonio told me what happened. Not all the details, because he thinks that will keep me from worrying, but I know you were there. I know you helped rescue him, and I'm grateful to you for that.
—We all did our part.
—Maybe, but Antonio was very specific when he talked about you.
Gabriela paused and looked him directly in the eyes.
—So thank you. For what you did for Diego and for Antonio.
Ethan took a moment to respond.
—You don't have to thank me. It was our job, and Antonio is my friend and partner. We watch each other's backs.
—I know. That's why I'm thanking you.
—Diego is a good kid —he finally replied—. He was braver than anyone could expect at his age.
Gabriela smiled proudly.
—That runs in the family too.
—Apparently modesty doesn't.
The conversation felt strangely effortless. Ethan had known her for only a few minutes, but Gabby possessed a natural warmth that made her easy to talk to.