Branded

by Tara Sivec

  “You’ve already said that three times this morning. Will you stop trying to freak me out? It’s not going to work,” DJ says with a laugh as he sits down on the edge of the bed to pull his boots on. He got a page from work that woke him up seconds after I’d finished throwing on my clothes from the night before and he’s been scrambling around, trying to get dressed in a hurry. I’d hoped he was too distracted to notice what I was trying to do.

  I’m out of my element here. I’ve never had sex without a condom before and I’ve never had sex that actually meant something. He’s right; a part of me is trying to freak him out for some stupid reason. It’s like my mind won’t even let me be happy.

  “I just…you know, if you have any regrets, I totally understand.”

  Lies, lies, lies!

  DJ pushes himself up from the bed and walks around to the foot of it, where I’m still digging around in my bag trying not to meet his eyes. His hands grab mine to still my movements and he bends his knees and lowers his head to get me to look at him. When I finally do, I see nothing but happiness and love shining in his eyes.

  “No regrets. NEVER any regrets with you,” he whispers.

  I let out the breath I’ve been holding and lean forward to kiss him. When I pull back, I can’t help but remind him of all the reasons why he should be regretting falling in love with me.

  “He’s still out there. I don’t want anything to happen to you because of me,” I tell him softly.

  He shakes his head at me, bringing his hands up to cup my face.

  “Haven’t you learned anything from living with me these last few weeks? I am a bad ass motherfucker and you have nothing to worry about.”

  I glare at him, but he just smiles in return.

  “I’m going to carry my gun on me at all times from now on and Dax has added another one of his guys to help Jackson on guard duty. The fact that you think I couldn’t take some old fucker who’s been in prison for fifteen years is insulting.”

  He lowers his lips into a pout and I try my hardest not to laugh at him.

  “Stop making jokes. This is serious,” I scold.

  “Yes, it’s SERIOUSLY insulting. Have you checked out my guns lately?”

  He lets go of my face to flex his arms and this time I do laugh. He lowers his arms after a few seconds and finally gives me a somber look.

  “I’m more worried about you. I don’t like the idea of you going in to work today when I can’t go with you.”

  Since it’s cold and flu season, the phlebotomy department is extremely short staffed. I got an urgent call from my supervisor this morning telling me she hated to cut my time off short, but it’s all hands on deck. DJ wanted to go with me, but the page he received notified him of a huge car accident on one of the main highways. As much as he doesn’t want to go to work, he needs to be there for Brad’s first big emergency or the poor guy will probably puke all over the side of the road.

  There’s a knock on the front door and DJ leaves me to finish getting dressed for work while he answers it. A few minutes later, when I’ve donned my scrubs and pulled my hair into a messy bun on top of my head, DJ sticks his head in the bedroom doorway.

  “Jackson is here to drive you to work. His partner is outside waiting to follow me to the accident. See? Everything is going to be fine,” he tells me with a reassuring smile.

  I meet him in the doorway and he grabs my hand to pull me down the hall and into the living room where Jackson is waiting by the front door.

  “All set?” he asks as I grab my purse and coat from the couch.

  I nod at him before turning to DJ, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him into me for a tight hug.

  “Everything’s going to be fine,” he whispers, kissing the top of my head. “I already told him he is to stick to your ass like glue. I’m sure the guy waiting for me outside is chomping at the bit to do the same and piss me off all day.”

  I pull my head back and stare up into his handsome face. “Your guns are pretty impressive, but don’t do anything stupid, do you hear me?”

  DJ nods and I paste on a smile so he doesn’t see the worry written all over my face. I don’t like the idea of us going separate ways today. It’s not even me I’m worried about. My father has made it perfectly clear that the man holding onto me right now is fair game in his quest for revenge. If anything happens to him, I will never forgive myself.

  “I’ll be fine, Fireball. The same goes for you, too. That asshole is not worth your life. You let the cops do their jobs. He’s going to make a mistake one of these days, and they’re going to nail his ass to the wall.”

  I let DJ’s reassuring words flow through me and erase all of my doubt and negativity. As we part ways with one last kiss in the driveway, I watch his truck disappear down the street with an unmarked cop car right on his ass the entire way as I get into the passenger side of Jackson’s cruiser.

  We make small talk the entire way to the hospital and I rest my head on the back of the seat, thinking about how much my life has changed in the last few months and how happy I am for the first time since I was a teenager.

  Parking my truck as close to the scene of the accident as I can off to the side of the road, I quickly jump out with my ALS trauma bag in my hand and weave in between the line of cars that are stopped until the accident can be cleared so they can get around it and head to wherever it was they were going.

  I pick up the pace, jogging until I reach the first vehicle, where a few of my men are pulling the driver out of the mangled car.

  “What do we got, boys?” I ask as I pull a pair of latex gloves out of my back pocket and quickly slide them on.

  “Male, mid-fifties, responsive and steady pulse,” Brad replies as he helps move the man to the gurney they’ve set up on the road next to the car. “We stabilized him inside the vehicle with a neck and back brace. Contusions to the head, most likely from the airbag, and superficial cuts and scrapes to the face and arms from glass.”

  I lean over the man, checking his eyes for dilation and signs of a concussion. “What’s your name, sir?”

  His eyes are darting around nervously, but they latch onto mine quickly. “Martin Roberts. The car ran right through the red light. I didn’t even have time to slam on my breaks. Is she okay? Is the other driver okay?”

  “Don’t you worry about that right now, Mr. Roberts. My men are going to get you to the hospital and take good care of you.”

  He nods his head as best he can while Brad finishes strapping him to the head brace and securing the rest of his body to the gurney.

  I pat Brad on the back for a job well done and hear the unmistakable motorized sound of the Jaws of Life firing up.

  “Are there more ambulances on the way?” I ask, scanning the area and not seeing any more in sight aside from the one right in front of us. I help everyone push the gurney to the back of the ambulance and lift it up inside.

  “There were two more in route, but we just cancelled one. We already secured the third driver and determined she didn’t need to be transported because of the extent of her injuries,” Brad explains. “She already signed a refusal to be transported, so now we’re just waiting on the one for the woman in that red car. ETA three minutes.”

  “Good. Let these guys head off to transport, you can stay here with me and work on the last driver,” I inform him.

  I close the ambulance doors, pounding twice to let the driver know he’s good to go. Brad and I turn and rush over to the car with the worst damage. Whoever was driving what used to be a red SUV obviously took the brunt of the accident. The driver’s side door was t-boned so badly it’s no wonder the fire department needed to use the Jaws of Life.

  “How’s it going?” I ask the fireman holding the hydraulic rescue tool as he cuts away at the metal and steel of the roof.

  “Driver has been unresponsive since we got here, so it’s going to be quicker and safer to take off the roof and get her out this way,” he shouts over the sound of the motor.
“One of my men crawled through the passenger side window that shattered and is keeping an eye on her vitals. When she was t-boned, it pushed the other side of her car into a light post, so we couldn’t even open the passenger door to get to her.”

  I nod at him and gesture for Brad to follow as I make my way around the back of the car, tapping the fireman who has his ass end sticking out of the passenger window. He quickly slides out and gives me a rundown on the injured woman’s stats.

  “Female, late twenties, early thirties, thready pulse, no visible eye movement or response to stimuli. Trauma to the head most likely caused by it smashing into her side window upon impact.”

  I thank him as he moves out of the way for me and I lean inside the window to get my first look at the woman. My stomach drops and my heart almost stops when I see her. Still in her seatbelt with blood coating her face and neck from the wounds on her head and her chest, arms and hands covered in blood from a combination of the laceration on her head and cuts from the glass, is Finnley. Even under all the blood, I can see how pale her skin is. Before I can lean in closer and fully assess the damage, I hear shouting in the distance. I take a deep breath and quickly pull myself back out of the car, rattling off a list of instructions for Brad.

  “She’s Trauma Alert with that head injury, so start two IV’s in case there’s internal bleeding and we need to pump her full of fluids. Get a neck brace on her and keep an eye on her pulse and breathing. If it starts to plummet, get a bag valve mask on her immediately.”

  Without waiting for his response, I take off running away from the vehicle and trust that Brad can keep Finnley stable while I take care of this other problem.

  A few cars back, Collin is being held by a cop and two of the men from the fire department as he screams and curses at them, kicking and fighting to get out of their hold and get to his woman.

  “GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME, I NEED TO SEE HER! FINNLEY!” he screams as I get right in front of him and put my hands on his chest.

  “Collin, we’re handling it,” I tell him as calmly as I can. “You of all people know you can’t be here right now. Go sit your ass down in my truck and let me do my job.”

  His eyes are wild with unshed tears and fear and it breaks my heart to see him like this. He’s already been through enough to get to a happy, normal life with the woman he loves. He doesn’t deserve this shit.

  “Oh, God! How bad is she?”

  I don’t answer him right away because I can’t say anything good. Finnley is a mess and she’s lucky to still be alive at this point.

  “FUCKING ANSWER ME!” he screams as he continues to struggle against the arms that are holding him in place.

  “She’s alive, Collin. That’s all you need to think about right now.”

  The flashing lights of three fire trucks and four cop cars illuminate his face and thankfully, the other ambulance pulls up right then.

  “Wait in my truck and I’ll keep you posted as soon as we get her out of the car, okay?”

  The tears finally fall from his eyes as he nods his head in understanding.

  “I’m going back and I promise you, I will take good care of her. Luckily, the hospital is only a few minutes away, so we don’t have to worry about Life Flight. We’ll follow right behind the ambulance in my truck, got it?”

  The fight leaves his body and he slumps into the men’s arms as they help him over to where my truck is parked while I toss my keys to one of the cops. I turn and race back to Finnley’s car just as the firemen break through the roof and yank the thing off.

  Two other paramedics catch up to me with the gurney and thankfully, it’s two of my own men. I can work well with any paramedic, but the group of men I’ve trained and worked side-by-side with run like a well-oiled machine.

  “Patrick, get the backboard ready,” I tell the one closest to me as I climb up onto the top of the car and carefully ease myself down inside and crouch on the center console, checking her pulse while Brad rattles off her BP from behind me.

  Her pulse is weak, but it’s there, thank God. There is no fucking way I’m going back to my fucking truck without news that Finnley is alive.

  Brad has done everything he was supposed to, her IV lines are in place, oxygen mask is pressed against her nose and mouth and the brace is wrapped firmly around her neck. I use my pocketknife to saw through her seatbelt as Patrick climbs up the rear of the car with the backboard. When the seatbelt comes loose, I hold her body steady so Patrick can slide the backboard down behind her through the open roof of the car. I turn my body so my back is pressed up against the dashboard as Brad slides almost fully inside the vehicle from the passenger side, places Finnley’s IV bags on the passenger seat and helps us secure her to the backboard. Patrick calls for assistance and I hear the clamor of feet as a few more people climb onto the car. On the count of three, I hold Finnley’s legs and help Brad lift her while Patrick and everyone else pulls her up and out of her seat as gently as possible. Once we’ve got her resting on the tops of the seats, I help push her body the rest of the way up the backboard so her legs aren’t dangling off and secure the straps around them, as well. Brad slides back out of the passenger side window and runs around to help everyone else move her the rest of the way off of the car as I climb out of the top with her IV bags.

  Once we get her secured to the gurney, we take off running, me holding the IV bags above her as Patrick and Brad push the bed through the wreckage and other vehicles. Collin is waiting for us by the open back of the ambulance, and I shoot him a dirty look as we stop and flip the latches to collapse the legs of the gurney. I watch as he quickly leans over Finnley, smoothing her bloody hair off her face, full on sobbing when he gets his first good look at her. My anger that he didn’t wait in my truck quickly fades when I see how important it was for him to see her. Even though she looks really bad, I know it helps for him to see that she’s still breathing.

  “You gotta move, man. We need to get her to the hospital STAT,” I tell him as we fold the gurney down and lift it inside. Patrick and Brad jump inside and immediately start working on her, taking her blood pressure and checking her vitals.

  Slamming the doors closed, I pound on the back end. The siren wails and the ambulance takes off at top speed.

  “Come on, let’s get to my truck,” I tell him as I grab onto his arm and help him walk.

  We have to walk back through the accident site as we go, and I try to get Collin to look anywhere but at Finnley’s car, but it’s no use. His feet come to a halt like they’re filled with cement when we get right next to her car.

  “Oh, Jesus. Oh, my God,” he sobs, running his hands through his hair over and over as he stares at the wreckage.

  “It just looks bad because they had to take the roof off,” I tell him stupidly. Shit, he’s used the Jaws of Life enough times in his life as a fireman and he’s seen what an accident that bad does to the people inside.

  A cop who is assessing the damage to all the vehicles and checking the road for skid marks walks in front of us and crouches down to look under Finnley’s car.

  “Any ideas on how this happened?” I ask him as he makes notes on a pad, hoping he can give Collin some peace of mind before we head to the hospital.

  “Can’t really confirm anything until the vehicles are cleared,” he mutters over his shoulder.

  “Best estimated guess. My fiancé was in this car,” Collin growls angrily.

  The cop sighs, standing up to face us. “The driver of this one definitely caused the accident. Based on the noticeably absent skid marks, I’d say she ran right the red light without even tapping the breaks and the blue one over there t-boned her. I already spoke to the woman who was driving the third vehicle. She saw the accident happen, but was too close behind the guy driving this one to stop fast enough. Her car was the only one that left skid marks as she tried to slow down, but she still slammed into his back end.”

  I thank the guy for the information and pull a zombie-like Collin to my truck as
quickly as possible. As we head towards the hospital, I try calling Phina to give her a heads-up, but the call goes right to voicemail. I hope to God she’s holed up in her office instead of taking blood today. If she gets called down to the ER when Finnley comes in, she’s going to be a complete mess. Flipping the switch on my dashboard to turn on the emergency light bar on top of my work truck, I hit the gas and fly through every red light and intersection to get us to the hospital as fast as I can while Collin keeps his eyes closed and his head in his hands the entire way, most likely praying. If I were a religious man, I’d be doing some praying right about now, too. I try calling Jackson to tell him to keep Phina away from the ER until I can get there, but that call also goes to voicemail. I angrily throw my phone against the dashboard, cursing everyone who has a cell phone but never bothers to answer it.

  Too many thoughts are running through my head and I don’t like any of them. Finnley is a good driver. How in the hell could she just run a light? Phina and I are being watched like hawks, so her father can’t get anywhere near us. What if it pissed him off enough that he decided to transfer his obsession over to someone else she cares about?

  “Are you whistling?” Suzy asks in amusement as we head to the ER.

  I immediately stop and then smile.

  “Huh¸ I guess I was.”

  I’ve been smiling like a lovesick fool all damn morning, and now I’ve started whistling catchy tunes like a fucking Disney princess. Even though the threat of my father still looms over my head, I can’t help but be happy. DJ sent me a text on his way to work that said I can’t wait to have naked playtime with you again, and I’ve pulled it out and read it about a hundred times. He even used a smiley face emoticon. A fucking smiley face! I’m in my own little bubble of happiness and not even the last secret I’ve kept hidden from him can mar that. I’ll take it one day at a time and I’ll ease him into it. Now that I’ve opened the floodgates and started being honest with him, explaining what it was like living with my father and showing him the proof of that life, I know I’ll have the strength to talk to him about everything else when the time is right. I’ll explain to him that he’s the reason I no longer feel the need to burn myself. His love and his belief in me make that need a thing of the past. I feel like I can face anything as long as I have him by my side.