Chapter 33

Jensen

When the earthquake hit, we were having the team pre-game meal. We all looked at each other, the noise and rattling a little jarring. I’d been through one other earthquake, but it hadn’t been anything like this one. This was loud, the entire building shaking as it seemed to go on and on. We had to hold on to our plates and glasses and phones, keeping an eye on the handful of items that slipped off the sideboard and shelves behind us.

“What the fuck,” Ivan muttered, looking at me. “We don’t have this shit in Russia.”

“We don’t have this shit in Minnesota either,” I replied.

“Fuck.” Evan’s face was a bit pale.

“How long do these things last?” Marty yelled.

“This is a big one,” someone said.

“At least a six,” someone else pointed out. “Maybe even a seven.”

I didn’t know much about the Richter scale, but that sounded high to me. The last one I’d experienced was a four point six. This was much stronger.

By the time it stopped, we were all a little rattled, nervous laughter filling the room.

“Boys, they have to assess the arena for damage.” One of the coaches came in after about fifteen minutes. “So, tonight’s game is postponed until later in the season. You should all go home to check on your families. We’ll be in touch about resuming practice tomorrow.”

Most of us were already on our phones, checking in with friends and family, and it occurred to me Bailey had probably been home alone. Would it be weird if I checked on her?

I decided I was going to whether it was weird or not, dialing her number and drumming my fingers on the table impatiently as I waited for her to answer. But it went straight to voicemail, so I texted her instead.

JENSEN: Hey, I wanted to make sure you got through the earthquake okay. Would you just let me know you’re all right?

It didn’t appear that the message had been received and I couldn’t help but feel that she would have answered if she could have. We’d broken up but there hadn’t been any ugliness. She would have had the courtesy to let me know she was okay if she’d seen my message.

The fact that she hadn’t bothered me.

Bailey’s house had been renovated, but it was old, built in the sixties. It had a new roof and windows, with a modernized kitchen and bathrooms, but the foundation itself probably wasn’t up to code. Earthquakes scared me, but as a native, Bailey was a lot calmer about them. We’d talked about it once and she’d laughed, telling me she usually slept right through them.

There was no way she’d slept through this one.

“I feel like I need to check on Bailey,” I told Ivan. “I have a bad feeling in my gut.”

“Yeah? I’ll go with you if you want.”

“Yeah. Come on.” I went toward the dressing room to get my things.

Five minutes later I was on the road heading toward Laurel Canyon with Ivan in his car behind me. Luckily, traffic seemed light, and we got there in twenty minutes. The turnoff to my house was first, but we went past it, heading north toward Studio City. When we got to the turnoff to her street, I immediately saw the downed trees and people milling about.

I pulled over and Ivan parked behind me.

“We’re going to have to walk from here,” I told him.

“Looks like a lot of damage up here,” he said, looking around.

“Let’s go.” I broke into a jog, past the people trying to move debris out of the road. We were on a hill, so it wasn’t an easy trek, but I picked up speed, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Ivan was still behind me, and by the time I punched in the code to Bailey’s gate, we were breathing hard.

“Jesus,” Ivan breathed.

I followed his gaze and a rush of fear whipped through me.

Bailey’s house was no longer symmetrical. One side of the roof was almost perpendicular to the ground and all the windows on that side of the house had been smashed. Her front door hung at an awkward angle and her garage door bowed out a little.

“Fuck.” I ran toward the door, but it was both locked and stuck.

“The window,” Ivan said. “We can smash out the rest.”

He pulled his shirt off and wrapped it around his hand, using it to punch out the rest of the glass.

“Bailey! Bailey, where are you?”

There was no response as Ivan pushed through the window and I crawled in behind him.

The inside of the house was even worse than the outside, plants and picture frames sprawled across the floor. The big-screen TV hanging over the fireplace was teetering precariously on the mount that was now coming out of the wall and I ran over to it, holding on to the TV as Ivan yanked the mount the rest of the way out. We lowered the TV carefully to the floor before looking around.

“Bailey!”

“Maybe she wasn’t here,” Ivan said. “She could have gone to a friend’s house or an appointment of some kind?”

“Maybe.” I looked around.

Everything started to shake again, and I braced myself in the nearest doorway. I wasn’t sure how that would protect me, but that’s what I’d been told to do, so I figured it couldn’t hurt.

“Aftershock,” Ivan muttered.

“I’m not a fan of this shit,” I admitted.

When it finally stopped shaking, I was about to head out when a noise made me freeze.

“Did you hear that?” I asked Ivan.

“Hear what?” He frowned at me.

We were both silent, listening, and then there was an almost imperceptible moan.

“Bailey!” I yelled her name, running for the bedroom.

The bedroom was on the side of the house where the roof had collapsed, and it had definitely taken the brunt of the hit. There were pieces of drywall, sections of the ceiling, and everything from the walls scattered everywhere.

And on the floor beneath a small side table that had tipped over, was Bailey.

“Bailey!” I ran to her, pulling the table off of her and clearing away some of the debris. She was huddled on her side, covered in dust with a trickle of blood on her temple.

“I’ll call 911,” Ivan said, pulling out his phone.

“Babe, can you hear me?”

Her eyes fluttered open for a moment, but then closed again. “Jensen.”

“I’m here, baby. Where does it hurt? Can you get up?”

“I don’t…think so.” I could barely hear her. “I think the hip is broken.”

“Okay, we’re calling for help. I’ll stay with you.” I used the edge of my T-shirt to dab the blood on her temple.

“Jensen.” Ivan’s voice sounded strange.

“What?” I turned to him.

“No one’s coming. Paramedics are overwhelmed in this part of town. It could be three or four hours before they can get anyone up here. Besides that, the road is still blocked.”

“Jensen?” Her eyes met mine worriedly.

Another aftershock shook the house, and I used my much bigger body to cover Bailey’s as more debris bounced off of flat surfaces.

“We have to get out of here,” I told her. “The house may not withstand many more aftershocks.”

Tears filled her eyes but she nodded. “O-okay. I can try to get up.”

“Do you really think the hip is broken?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but I can’t move it.” She shifted slowly, straightening her left leg but not the right.

“We can lift her together,” Ivan said. “Bailey, can you try to put your good leg down while we lift from under your shoulders?”

“I’ll try.” She took a shaky breath. “Just do it.”

Ivan and I exchanged a look and then we bent, him on one side of her and me on the other. Slowly, we lifted her to her feet.

“Oh, fuck.” She landed against my chest, clinging tightly. “Whatever it is, it’s bad. I can’t move my right leg at all.”

“How bad is the pain?”

“Bad.” Her voice was muffled against my shirt.

“Babe.” I looked down at her. “This is probably going to hurt, but I have to get you out of here so we can find help.”

She nodded wearily. “Do what you have to do.”

“I’m so sorry.” I lifted her into my arms, and she cried out, but there was no help for it now. I made my way out of her room and through the disaster that was the living room.

“My purse,” she whispered. “I’ll need ID at the hospital. It was on the kitchen counter.”

“I’ll find it,” Ivan said.

“Close your eyes,” I told her. “And focus on counting. My pediatrician used to make me count backwards from a hundred. It distracts from the pain. Hopefully, we’ll get to my truck before you’re done.”

She whimpered but I could see her lips moving as she started to count.

“One hundred… ninety-nine… ninety-eight…”

I picked up speed.

She needed help as soon as possible.