He shook his head. “No. Then she’d just chip her too…” He trailed off when something caught his eye.
Then I was violently shoved to the ground at the same time I heard a loud whimper from Mocha at my side.
My hands were the first things to land, followed shortly by my body, and then my face.
I cried out in agony as the gravel from the asphalt under my hands dug into the skin of my palms.
I knew instantly they’d be scraped raw, but it was put out of my head quickly by the rush of adrenaline that shot through my veins when I looked up to see a man fighting with Downy.
Downy was bigger and much more experienced.
I could tell that by the way Downy easily sidestepped each swipe from the knife that the other man had in his hand.
There was also a commotion of some sort going on behind me, but I couldn’t tell exactly what, since the altercation was happening in the shadows behind the parked car I was shielded against.
Mocha was fighting something, and my best guess was another attacker.
Hands shaking, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed 911.
“911, what’s your emergency,” the dispatcher answered instantly.
“This is Memphis Conner. I’m in the mall parking lot close to the back of the lot on the food court side. A man with a knife is trying to stab my boyfriend,” I whispered frantically.
The dispatcher was very calm and collected, but then my next statement had her practically screeching to another in the room with her the moment the words left my lips.
“My boyfriend is a cop for KPD.”
Yes, that word, cop, got one hell of a response.
What started out as urgent turned to frantic as the dispatcher called in backup.
Cops didn’t like it when one of their own was being hurt, and neither did dispatchers.
“We have units only minutes away. Can you tell me what’s going on?” the dispatcher asked worriedly.
Just about the time she finished her sentence, I heard a vicious growl from my side and turned in time to see a dog launch itself at my face.
When the dog was just millimeters from tearing my face to shreds, Mocha slammed into the dog like a battering ram, bringing the dog down in a tumble of limbs and snarls.
The fight was over quickly for the other dog, though. Mocha’s superior size and experience in bringing down lethal suspects only strengthened her ability to take the much smaller dog down.
Plus, she had the dog in a vulnerable position, enabling her to get the smaller dog by the throat, where she promptly clamped down and refused to let go.
The dog’s struggles slowed and finally stopped altogether, becoming nothing more than a twitch. Then nothing, after that as the dog’s life drained away.
When a shout of surprise sounded from my opposite side, I turned in time to see Downy throat punch the knife-man. The knife man went down hard, clutching his throat, as his oxygen, too, was depleted.
Like owner like dog…
“Holy shit,” I croaked. “That was insane.”
Downy snarled out a laugh and got down on his knees where he promptly checked for a pulse.
He shook his head and stood. “His windpipe is crushed. If the ambulance doesn’t get here quickly, he’s a dead man.”
His eyes alighted on the dead dog.
Mocha still had her jaw clamped down on the dead dog, but I couldn’t really muster up the desire to care.
When she started eating the other dog, then I’d care… but until then, fuck that dog. I liked my face right where it was, thank you very much.
“He had his dog attack us… you… me…” I couldn’t figure out how to make my brain work.
He nodded and went back to the man who was not a pretty color of blue, and who was looking around frantically at him.
“Sorry, buddy. I don’t have anything to help you. Police and fire are already on their way. Hopefully you live long enough for them to make it,” Downy said callously.
I just shook my head. “Jesus.”
Then the sirens started to pour into the parking lot.
Soon the entire back half of the lot was filled to the brim with people, and the lucky guy that he was, the medics swooped in just as he took his last breath.
“Crushed windpipe!” Downy yelled.
The man that looked to be the lead paramedic waved his hand in acknowledgment, then proceeded to throw what looked to be iodine on the man’s throat, then cutting into his neck with a scalpel.
“Holy shit!” I exclaimed.
Downy’s chest filled my vision, and I looked up into his wary eyes. “Yes?”
He looked at a spot on my face, then lifted his hand to lightly prod it with his huge, blunt fingertips.
I winced and shrank back slightly. “Ouch.”
He grimaced. “You’re going to have one hell of a shiner. And I’m fairly sure you have gravel embedded in your hands.”
I winced and held up my hands, palm up, for him to see.
“Yep,” I agreed instantly. “I sure do!”
He snorted at my nonchalant act and took me by the wrist, called Mocha with a word that sounded suspiciously like gibberish, and started to walk to an alternate ambulance that’d just arrived on scene.
A tall man with pitch-black hair and what looked to be Native American features, smiled at Downy. “Hey man. You look like shit.”
I cataloged Downy’s injuries now that I’d been made aware of them.
Bleeding something under his gray, skintight shirt. Slash mark on one arm. Then, on the other hand, was what looked like a stab wound.
“You’ve been stabbed!” I screeched.
He gave me a look that clearly said, ‘you’re getting taken care of first,’ then shoved me, albeit lightly, toward the man.
“Tai, please take a look at her hands while I check Mocha out for injuries and talk to the officer in charge,” Downy requested.
Tai, the cute Native American, nodded and led me to the open doors at the back of the truck.
Tai was dressed in the department issued blue tactical pants with the bright white strip that reflected light down the side of the pants, and a t-shirt that denoted him as a ‘Kilgore Firefighter.’
“Fatbaby, my man, we have a beautiful woman to work over!” Tai yelled as he helped me up into the back of the ambulance.
I snorted in amusement at not just the man’s name, Fatbaby, but at the innuendo Tai had used.
Fatbaby was dressed in much the same as Tai, except he had on a jacket with sunglasses perched on top of his head. He had sandy brown hair, and the cutest smile I’d ever seen.
“Fatbaby?” I managed to ask as I took a seat on the bench next to him.
He grimaced. “Nickname that I’ll never live down. Ever.”
He reached forward and grabbed my hands, taking a closer look at them.
Although it was nice to have two very attractive men looking at me, my heart was still outside of the ambulance.
“Was that stab wound bad?” I asked Tai worriedly.
He looked up from his perch on the stretcher in front of me, giving me his deep green eyes and said, “He would’ve told us if it was bad.”
I nodded, trusting his expert opinion. Although that didn’t mean I wasn’t worried. I sure as hell was. The man I was in love with had just gotten stabbed, and my face had nearly been eaten. Again!
An hour later, I finally went to Downy’s truck and laid down.
My hands were on fire, and Downy was still talking to the Chief, as well as a few other cops that I’d seen a time or two but couldn’t quite place.
My eyes were blurry, and lethargy was creeping up on me after the adrenaline started to dissipate from my system.
It probably also had to do with the shot of pain killers I’d gotten from the medics who thought I might possibly have a mild concussion after I started to complain of a headache ten minutes after they started cle
aning my hands.
Apparently, when I’d fallen, I’d slammed my face into the asphalt as well, but I’d blocked it out when I saw Downy fighting some madman with a knife.
Since I’d refused to go to the hospital, they’d relented, but only if they were able to give me a mild pain reliever and told me to tell Downy to wake me every hour or so.
After I’d promised, I’d walked to the truck, which was now where I found myself, huddling underneath Downy’s KPD jacket, trying to ignore the flashing blue and red lights.
I must’ve managed to doze off quite well, because the next thing I remembered was waking up to a gentle rocking motion.
I opened my eyes to find Downy carrying me into his house.
“Hey,” I said sleepily.
He grinned. “Hey.”
“Did you get seen by the paramedics?” I asked.
He placed me down onto the bed and slowly lifted up both arms which now had white gauze wrapped around them.
“A doctor is calling me in an antibiotic in case of infection, but both wounds were superficial, so they didn’t see any need for me to come in,” he explained as he started taking off both of my shoes.
“And I picked Peter up. He’s in the backyard with Mocha,” he said softly, as he started to work on my pants.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, sleep starting to consume me once again.
He smiled. “Sleep, pretty girl. I have to make a few phone calls, but then I’ll come to bed shortly, okay?”
“Mmph,” I mumbled. “Love you.”
I didn’t hear a reply for a long time, but then the softest of kisses was placed upon my head, then he whispered. “Love you, too.”
Chapter 19
Everyone tells me to follow my dreams, so I’m going back to bed.
T-shirt
Memphis
“Now, during this part, you’ll be the sole sonographer. I’m not even in the room. The mom asks you questions, you answer her like you’ve been taught. No matter what. This is your final exam, and then you’re done! Okay?” my teacher, Mrs. Brewer, asked.
I nodded, barely containing my excitement. “Yes, I’m ready.”
Mrs. Brewer smiled and nodded once, before waving her hand for me to proceed.
I flashed her an excited smile and started to skip down the hallway to the sonogram room in Mead, Jones and Brewer Women’s Health Center.
Mrs. Brewer was married to Mr. Mead, but at the time they met and began the practice, they’d just been partners. When they married, they chose to keep their respective names, much to Mr. Mead’s consternation.
“Walk,” Mrs. Brewer said laughingly.
I tossed a smile over my shoulder and knocked on the door.
When a muffled, ‘come in,’ sounded from the room beyond, I opened the door and smiled at the woman who was currently on her back on the exam table.
“Hello!” I said to the woman. “My name’s Memphis Conner and I’ll be doing your sonogram today. How are you doing?”
The woman, probably around my age if not a little younger, smiled. “I’m okay. Just tired and ready to be finished being pregnant.”
She looked about ready to pop. At probably less than a hundred pounds before she got pregnant, and as small as a beanpole if the tininess of her arms was anything to go by, she wasn’t used to having so much extra weight. She looked like she swallowed a watermelon.
I nodded. “Most moms are ready by this point,” I agreed. “If I can get you to pull your shirt up so I can get to your belly, we’ll get started.”
She moved her shirt up over her belly and revealed the most perfect stomach I’d ever seen. Not a stretch mark in sight.
“This’ll be a little cold,” I said as I squirted the lubrication for the wand I’d be using on her stomach.
She giggled and squirmed, looking at the scowling boyfriend in the corner I’d done a good job at ignoring since I’d walked in.
He looked screwy.
Black clothes, dirty, greasy black hair. Black-lined eyes. White contacts in that showed only the pupil of his eye.
He literally looked fucking creepy, but who was I to say anything?
The only things missing were the piercings and tattoos.
I pressed a few more buttons on my computer before placing the wand on the girl’s stomach.
The mother smiled up at her baby, and the baby daddy actually turned his head to the screen to see what was there. Which was surprising since I didn’t think he’d actually care, but I was wrong.
Moving it around a little bit, I smiled as I saw the cutest little chubby face I’d ever seen.
I normally got to do the ones that told the sex of the babies. When they were at that age of gestation, they looked like nothing more than aliens.
This one, though, had fat on top of fat.
What he didn’t have, however, was a heartbeat.
My heart started to pound as I moved the wand around, trying for a different angle, hoping beyond hope that I would get something I knew wasn’t there.
I glanced over at my teacher behind me, but she was looking down at her hands, having come to the same conclusion I had not even moments before.
Knowing what I had to do, I said, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go get your doctor.”
I didn’t give them a chance to ask questions; quickly hanging up the wand and hightailing it out of the room before they realized what was going on.
“He’s in his office,” Mrs. Brewer said sadly from behind me.
I nodded and walked to his office, stopping at the entrance of his door. “Dr. Mead?”
Dr. Mead looked up and smiled warmly at me. “Ahh, Memphis. How are you today, dear? Have you finished with Mrs. Deon?”
I shook my head. “Baby Deon doesn’t have a heartbeat.”
He stood stoically and ran his hand down the front part of his stomach, flattening his tie as he walked around the desk. “Hells bells.”
With that, we both walked to the ultrasound room, and he walked in with a smile.
“Hello, Deon family. How are you doing today?”
After a few nervous ‘okay’s,’ Dr. Mead walked over to the station and started to press buttons before he placed the wand to the woman’s belly.
It didn’t take him long to see the same thing I did.
Baby Deon was dead, expiring in his mother’s womb only three days before his due date.
***
I was crying as I walked to my car.
The fact that I passed didn’t help in the least. I was devastated for those parents who had only gone in to check positioning of their child that was scheduled for induction in three days’ time and walked out with an induction in the afternoon to deliver their baby who had perished before they ever got to hold him.
In fact, I was downright sobbing.
My heart was ripped in two, and people were giving me strange looks as I walked through the parking garage, walking around the levels rather than taking the stairs or the elevator.
When I finally made it to the top where students were required to park, I was relieved to see it.
I needed to sit down. It was getting hard to see past my tears, and I was plain exhausted.
***
Downy
“Fuckin’ A,” I growled as my pager went off.
I was surprised to find a number on it that was unfamiliar to me.
Putting my office phone to my ear, I called the number and waited for someone to answer.
“This is Dr. Mead,” a woman’s saddened voice answered.
“Hi, I was paged from this number,” I said distractedly.
I was looking over some logistic reports and comparing them to a pile of old reports from ten years ago.
“Yes, I’m sorry.” She cleared her throat, bringing my attention back to her. “I have your number listed as an emergency contact for Memphis Conner.”
I froze, hand clenching down hard on the ph
one in a slight panic. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry. She’s okay. But she had a bad day today, and I think she might need a ride home,” the woman said softly.
Then she proceeded to tell me about what had happened, and why she felt that Memphis would be needing a ride.
“Okay,” I said, standing up and grabbing my keys out of my pocket. “I’ll go get her. Thanks for calling me.”
She made an approving sound and replied with, “That’s what I’m here for.”
With that, she hung up, and I started walking outside.
Mellie, the receptionist for the Chief, was the first person I saw once I exited the room, so I said, “I’m taking the rest of the day off. I have an emergency.”
She looked startled but nodded anyway. Usually the Chief or Luke would’ve been the only one I would’ve said anything to, but they weren’t anywhere in sight, so I chose the fastest route. Not that I gave her much choice. I was leaving whether she okayed it or not.
The drive to the hospital took less than five minutes, and I pulled into the parking garage and maneuvered up to the top floor of the building where I remembered her saying she was required to park.
I found her there, sitting in her car, staring at her hands.
She had tears streaming down her face and didn’t even look up when I pulled in next to her.
Getting out, I rounded the back of my cruiser and opened her door.
She looked up at me, heartbroken with tears streaming down her face. Her mascara had run damn near down to her chin, and her eyes were red. But I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life.
Crouching down until my ass met my calves, I asked, “Wanna go for a ride in my cruiser?”
She looked at me, and I mean really looked at me, before saying, “I’d go anywhere with you.”
I leaned in and gave her a kiss, her tears meeting my lips, and replied with, “Good, because I want you to go everywhere with me.”
Chapter 20
Sometimes the best part of my job is that my chair swivels.
-Downy to Memphis
Memphis
“He’s not going to make it,” I said sullenly.
Not only wasn’t Downy going to make it, but I didn’t see my mom or dad either.
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