by Jay Hogan
By lunchtime she’d sat a bucket between our desks. “Saves me a trip to the bathroom every ten minutes to throw up all the sappy saccharine shit dripping from every pore of your ridiculously fit body,” she explained. “You clearly hit pay dirt with wonder boy whether you’re gonna admit to it or not. You positively reek of loved-up shenanigans. And stop looking at that damn phone every five minutes. So help me if you’re sexting him, I’ll have your damn arse. Not to mention the poor guy’s dick is gonna drop off with all the attention.”
So yeah, there was that.
I looked around the dinner table at Drake’s family and smiled. They were very much like my own… but without the drag queen addition, although I was beginning to think Carmen would fit in here just nicely. Mina sure as hell would give her a run for her money, and Drake’s younger brother, Jason, though quieter than the other two, had a quick dry wit that managed to have the whole table in fits on more than one occasion. His wife, Vicki, was a cheeky powerhouse of a woman, even at seven months pregnant, and easily held her own.
“So did Duck not mention his try-out for the Whangarei Boys’ College first fifteen, then?” Mina eyed me gleefully while handing her father one of the ten million meal condiments that smothered the table in typical Korean style.
Drake’s mother was an excellent cook and had outdone herself, though I noted Drake ate sparingly of the selection that was on offer, and eyeing the pickles, chilli paste, kimchi, and other spicy accoutrements, it was easy to guess why. Still, there were enough grilled slices of pork and beef to keep the NZ meat industry happy well into the next millennium.
Drake rounded on his older sister. “Drake, Mina. Or I’ll mention your nickname as a kid.” He threw an apologetic look at his parents who waved it away with a shrug.
Mina scowled. “Fine. So, Draaake never said anything, I take it?” She poked her tongue Drake’s way.
I chuckled and side-eyed my boyfriend. “Never mentioned it.” Now I was intrigued. “Something I should know?”
“Mina.” There was a warning edge to Drake’s tone that I recognised all too well. His sister was courting trouble here, which only made me more desperate to know exactly what he was hiding.
“Do tell. I’m all ears. I’d love to hear about… Duck’s sporting prowess.” I poked the bear and got what I deserved as his boot connected soundly with my shin under the table. “Ow, what was that for?”
Mina choked on her tea, and her husband patted her back with more force than I thought was strictly necessary. “Behave,” he said quietly. She leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek, then grinned wickedly. “But I thought that’s why we left the kids with a sitter.” She pouted, and I saw exactly where Drake had learned that one from. “So I didn’t have to behave.”
“Oh boy.” Drake’s father patted his wife’s hand. “Can we go home now? Oh no, that’s right—” He sent his daughter a stern frown. “—this is our place.”
Neil sent me an apologetic look. “I tried. I’m sorry, but you’re on your own now.”
I grinned and foolishly replied, “Nothing I can’t handle.”
When Drake turned a steely glare my way, I realised it was more convincing inside my head than out. I threw him an innocent wide-eyed look, to which he mouthed the reply, “Just you wait.” The heated promise in those eyes had my jeans tightening in anticipation. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Besides, pissy Drake meant toppy Drake, and there was nothing about that scenario not to like.
“You were saying?” I winked conspiratorially at Drake’s sister.
Another boot to my leg. “You, mister, are in sooo much trouble,” Drake warned with a quirk of his lips.
I caught his eyes and held their glare, hoping to impart just how excited I was at the prospect of being held to account. By his blown pupils and the swallow that followed, he’d gotten the message loud and clear.
Gun Park cleared his throat meaningfully, and I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. Caught. Drake smirked and raised his tea in mock salute. Bastard.
“Anyhoooo,” Mina continued. “Drake was fifteen and had the biggest crush on a terribly straight boy called… um, what was his name again, Drake?”
By the look on Drake’s face, Mina knew perfectly well what the boy’s name was.
“Edward,” he mumbled, pushing his meat around his plate.
I was so unfamiliar with “self-conscious Drake,” I took a moment to savour the experience and wonder if I’d pushed things a bit far. My foot nudged his gently, and he glanced up with a grateful smile, which blossomed when I blew him a kiss. Okay, that was better.
Mina nodded thoughtfully. “Edward, that’s right. It all comes back to me now. Well, Edward had an arse you could balance a coffee cup on, not to mention thighs like tree trunks, and our little… Drake… well, he was a smitten little kitten.”
And with that, I discovered you could indeed get a darker shade of crimson judging by the colour Drake currently sported on his cheeks, which was no mean achievement considering his gorgeous olive skin.
He cringed. “Oh. My. God. Mina, really?”
She threw open her hands. “Hey. No one’s blaming you, the guy was a beauty. Even at two years my junior, I’d have tapped that.”
Drake’s father shot his daughter a horrified look while her mother just rolled her eyes in exasperation.
“Turn your filter on, sis,” Jason sputtered. “The ’rents are unravelling to your left and we haven’t even had dessert yet.”
Neil turned in his seat and eyeballed his wife with obvious curiosity. “I’m all ears, sweetheart. Do tell me all about… Edward.”
Mina patted his hand. “Just kidding, man of my dreams.”
He narrowed his gaze.
She batted her eyelashes in return. “I would never have done that. Nuh-uh. Not. In. A. Million. Years. That would’ve been so… inappropriate, right?” She smiled unconvincingly. “And no one’s arse comes even close to yours, darling.”
“And my thighs…?”
“Steel girders, love blossom. Mmm-hmmm.”
“Right. And don’t you forget it.” He kissed her nose, and the two shared a look that could’ve given global warming a run for its money.
Mina continued, “As I was saying, the boy was delicious…”
Neil gave an exasperated sigh.
“… and our Drake here was so desperate to get the poor boy’s attention that regardless of the fact our brother couldn’t catch a high ball to save his life, at least not on the field—” She winked my way. “—he decided to try out for the school’s premier rugby team of which Edward was their prize winger.”
“I sense a tragedy in the making,” I quipped.
Drake snorted. “Soooo much tragedy. Tragedy like you wouldn’t believe.” He’d clearly decided if you couldn’t beat them, join them.
“Precisely,” Mina stated. “Of course, I went along to the trials to be supportive and all, like a good sister…”
I chuckled. “Of course you did.”
She sent me an evil grin. “… and I took along a few of my closest friends―”
“Read: half the school,” Drake clarified.
Mina huffed. “I couldn’t help it that everyone wanted to cheer you on.”
Drake laughed. “You sent a flyer round the damn school.”
“That’s… actually true.” She smirked. “But I only had your best interests at heart, dear brother.”
“Cut to the chase, sis, or I’ll bring up Michael Waterson,” Drake challenged, and Mina actually pulled up short with a blush.
I was beginning to think that if we ever got our two families together and added Carmen to the mix, we might just have a global superpower in the making. The possibilities of what they could achieve were truly frightening.
“You wouldn’t,” Mina hissed.
Neil cocked a brow. “Well, it appears I’m getting quite the education tonight. Michael who, darling?”
Drake said nothing, just stared at Mina, who cleared her thr
oat under the scrutiny. “I’ll tell you later, sweetheart,” she answered, casting a wary glance at her parents.
Neil smirked and turned to Drake, and the two high-fived. “I owe you, bro,” he said with a laugh.
Mina’s disgruntled look said it all about how she felt having the tables turned on her. She straightened herself in her chair and took a deep breath. “To continue….”
Drake’s cell buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the screen and pushed his chair back. “Sorry, I need to take this.”
“Client?” Vicki asked, rubbing her own belly.
Drake nodded.
Mina chuckled. “You did that deliberately.”
“As if.” Drake answered with a gleeful grin as he left the room, but when he reappeared less than a few seconds later, he had his coat in his hand. “We need to go,” he spoke directly to me. “Can you drop me off at my place? My delivery bag’s in my car.”
I immediately got to my feet, trying to wrap my head around the grim, almost frightened look he wore. Nothing like the calm, collected man I’d come to know. “Client in trouble?”
“Early labour,” he answered. “Too early.” He flicked a glance his sister-in-law’s way, then back to me, and I got the message. Pregnant women don’t need to hear scary stories.
I pushed my chair back and got my coat. “Thanks for the amazing meal and great company, everyone.”
We said our goodbyes, and Drake’s mother drew me into a hug.
“You’re welcome here anytime, Caleb,” she said softly. “Don’t be strangers, the two of you. You’re good for him. I haven’t seen Drake so happy in a long time.”
The comment shocked me, but it was nice to know she thought I’d made a difference, and I was gonna tuck that one away for the times I second-guessed myself out the back door. I promised Drake’s mother we’d call again soon, and with Mina’s promise to finish her story next time still ringing in our ears, I followed Drake through the gloomy drizzle to the car and jumped in.
“Go, go, go,” he said as soon as I’d buckled up, then he immediately leaped onto his phone.
I listened with mounting concern as Drake called for an ambulance and a first responder paramedic car as well. He spouted a lot of medical jargon I couldn’t quite follow, other than the part about the woman only being thirty-three weeks, and even I knew that was way too early for a baby. Whatever it was, it had to be bad. He then made another call to what I guessed was a neighbour of the client, asking them to head over and check on her.
I reached a hand to his thigh and squeezed. “Lights and siren?”
“Yes, God, yes, yes.” He sighed in relief, squeezing my hand tight before releasing it so I had both on the wheel as the rain picked up. “Jesus, I almost forgot who I was with. We’re closer than the hospital or ambulance by a good ten minutes.”
“Hold on.” I jammed the siren light on the roof and floored it.
Thankfully Drake’s parents’ property was only just outside the city boundary and on the right side of town for Drake’s townhouse and his client. We got there in under ten minutes and he was gone from my car and into his own with just a nod to my plea for him to call me.
Seconds later his car headed off down the road, leaving me sat in mine, heart pounding in my throat. I’d offered to drive him in mine, but his client lived only a couple of minutes away, and he’d get there easily enough without sirens and shit. Besides, he had all his delivery gear in his trunk and Whangarei wasn’t Auckland. Traffic jams here were limited to school pickup time and work commutes, where they might add a whopping ten minutes to your drive.
Drake had told me nothing more than his client seemed to be in premature labour, that she was bleeding, and sounded “off” on the phone, and that she’d apparently hung up without finishing their conversation. I’d taken a few frantic calls on the job and recognised the signs of a looming crisis. And judging by the rigid tension on display in Drake’s body and the incessant jiggling of his legs as we drove, he was worried to the max.
But as much as I wanted to help and was concerned about Drake’s driving in this weather when he was so clearly nervous for the woman, he was an experienced professional and wouldn’t appreciate my butting in on his area of expertise. That was putting it mildly judging by the dangerous look in his eye when I’d even tried to suggest driving him there. He had a cool head, I knew that about him, so I damn near chewed the knuckles off that metaphorical fist jammed into my mouth and let him do his more-than-capable thing. Even though it killed me.
Of course none of my belief in his obvious skills helped in any way with that thundering urge inside to chase after and safeguard him, or with the burgeoning lump in my chest that threatened to suffocate me, and the overwhelming sense of foreboding that pinned me to my seat as his tail lights disappeared into the murk.
Chapter Fifteen
Drake
TURNING HARD into Prim’s driveway, I barely remembered the drive over, and my heart sank at the realisation I’d beaten the ambulance and the first responder unit. Dammit. The ambulance station was way the hell the other side of town, but by the time I reached the front door, the scream of sirens sounded in the distance. Thank Christ. I carried a lot of equipment for delivery emergencies but not near the range the paramedics did if shit really did hit the fan. Besides, I had a feeling I was gonna need the help.
Irene Dunston met me at the front door, the sheer panic in her eyes confirming my worst fears. Shit, shit, shit. She snagged my hand and hauled me down the hall toward the bathroom.
“I found her here,” she puffed, fighting for breath.
At seventy-five the woman had a heart of gold, a steel trap of a mind, and a rattling pair of smoke-abused lungs that would be unlikely to see her to eighty. Prim and Irene had become good friends. I’d met her several times and the older woman often watched the boys when Prim’s husband was offshore working.
“She’s unconscious.” Irene tugged at my arm.
Prim was angled slightly on her left side, arm draped loosely across her chest, a cushion shoved behind, propping her enough to stop her rolling onto her back. A towel was draped on top.
“I tried to get her into recovery position,” Irene explained, still breathing hard. “But she was too heavy for me to manage, and since she seemed to be breathing okay, I thought it best to just cover her to keep her warm and leave her till you got here. But look….” Irene lifted the towel and pointed to an alarming pool of bright red blood on the bathroom tile, not to mention what filled the toilet bowl.
Holy shit. My heart hit my throat and every jangling nerve in my body stuck its hand in the air. I sank to my knees to check for a pulse. Weak and thready, but there. A point to the good guys. If only my luck would hold.
“You did good,” I reassured Irene.
“I wish I could’ve done more. You can help her, right?”
I prayed she was right. “I’ll do my best.” I opened my bag and scrambled to calm my thinking and get a plan in mind as I quickly grabbed what I needed from my bag. “Where are the boys?”
“At Prim’s sister’s for the week, to give her a break. I’ve called to let her know. She’s gonna meet you at the hospital. Figured you’d be heading there.”
“Perfect, Mrs D. Now how about you wait outside for the ambulance and direct them in here?”
“Of course.”
She puffed her way up the hall while I took some baseline recordings from Prim to see what was what before I moved her. Her blood pressure was marginal, ninety over fifty, but better than I’d expected. Her heart rate was high at one-twenty, and a bit thready. All the signs of shock. No surprises there considering the amount of blood loss. I popped an oropharyngeal airway into her mouth to keep her airway patent till the medic could intubate, and held my breath as I rolled her to her back—you never knew what was gonna happen when you moved someone. Thank God the bathroom had some room to move.
She settled on her back, her skin a pale milk-grey, breathing shallow, at a rate of
thirty. There was no great gush of blood—always a bonus. I checked her vitals again, relieved to find at least they were no worse. The pulse oximeter read a saturation of 89 percent, well under the standard for her normal state of health.
The siren sounded right outside now and a part of me calmed. Help. Thank fuck. This needed more than me. It was then I saw the phone still cradled in Prim’s hand. That answered that question. Likely Prim had blacked out while talking to me, and that meant she’d been unconscious fifteen to twenty minutes, critical time the baby may have been without a good blood supply. Was it even still alive? Fuck. I mentally slapped myself. Quit that train of thought and follow the drill. By the book, Drake, by the book. It wasn’t the first delivery emergency I’d had, but it sure as shit was looking like the nastiest, especially close to term like this.
With a shaking hand I placed my portable Doppler on Prim’s belly to listen for a foetal heartbeat.
Footsteps thundered down the hall and a head popped into the room. I held up my hand to keep them quiet for a second so I could hear, but the Doppler picked up nothing. Fuck. My heart stuttered in my chest and I drew in a shaky breath. Then I realised Prim’s belly was contracting. I needed to wait. I glanced up at the advanced paramedic.
“Paul, thank God.” I’d met most of the ambulance team over the years and Paul was one of the better ones. He was highly trained and worked the most serious call-outs, arriving by car ahead of the ambulance to get things started. His brother had dated Aaron somewhere in their dark university past, so the four of us had a casual acquaintance outside of work as well.
“Hey, Drake.” Paul threw his bag alongside Prim and went to work. “How about you leave Mum to me and take a look behind curtain number two at bubs.”
As the advanced lead paramedic, Paul took charge at any call-out, but he was never an arsehole about it, and I was quite frankly relieved to hand over to him. He already had intubation and intravenous equipment ready to go as he talked. “Tell me about your lady while you work. By the look of the floor, we need to get her stable and out of here yesterday. You got some baby numbers for me?”
