“911. What is your emergency?” was overshadowed by Tack’s monotonous reciting of “Mom.”
I pushed away from Lil and flew across the room.
“She’s not moving, Ash, Mom’s not moving.”
My heart locked.
Cracked.
And stopped beating.
Tal.
Tack was kneeling, bent over and brushing the hair from her closed eyes. “Ash, I think she’s been shot.” His panicked words were like a knife to my chest. The pain was indescribable.
I shoved my cell in his hand and cradled Talia’s beautiful face, kissing her, immediately searching for her breath. I needed to feel her breath. I needed it more than my own breath.
It was shallow and shaky, coming in short spurts, but she was breathing. She was alive. Thank God.
I slid my fingertips along her thin neck. “Tack, tell them she’s breathing, but her pulse is slow, I can barely feel it.” I was used to it bounding under me. I was used to it matching my own. A million thoughts swarmed my brain, all landing on how the fuck did this happen, why? I was staring at the only reason I have a future and she was slipping away.
How the fuck did I let this happen? I was helpless. I hated it.
Tack turned and screamed over his shoulder “Where are we, I need the damn address?” Dodd grabbed the phone and took over.
Sierra wailed, “They’re coming, Tal, they’re coming.”
“Hold on, Teeps.” I tried my best to control my emotion. But I was breaking. No, I was broken. “I love you, stay with me, Tal. Stay with me. Help is coming, you’re gonna be fine.”
Talia’s eyes drifted open at the sound of my voice. “Tack?” she choked out. “Lili?” she whispered.
“I’m here, Mom. I’m fine.”
“Here, Tal. I’m right here,” Lili cried as she sunk down next to me.
“Everyone is here, baby. We’re okay. He’s dead.” I began scanning, searching for where that motherfucker’s bullet hit her perfect body.
My fingertips stilled when she said, “Don’t move ... me, Ace.” Her voice was weak and raspy. I barely made out “back.” Her eyes closed and she no longer responded to our pleas. I felt her at my fingertips. I felt her in a way I never wanted to feel her. I gently slid my hand from under her and choked back the vomit burning my throat. Warm, wet and sticky. Her blood soaked my palm.
The next twenty minutes passed like a lifetime in purgatory. Paramedics and police descended in droves, barking orders and moving like practiced robots. Yellow tape secured the scene immediately, while pictures flashed incessantly. Gauze wrappers and needle caps littered the floor, walkie-talkie chatter was nothing but static. Chaos didn’t begin to describe it. But as I watched them cut off her clothes with blunt bandage scissors, brace her neck, poke and prod her, all noise ceased to exist. All I could concentrate on was the gentle rise and fall of her naked chest now covered in sticky monitors. The rhythmic beeps reminded me that my woman was asleep. Alive and asleep, because the alternative was never an option.
This wasn’t a drill.
This was my life.
This was real.
The motionless woman strapped to the stretcher was my life. My everything.
Detectives sequestered Dodd, Sierra, Lil, and Tack on the terrace for statements while paramedics speed-fired off questions I had no answers to. It was all a blur. Never in my life had I felt so ill-prepared.
“Does she have any medical problems, any surgical history?”
“Does she take any medications? Anything at all?”
“Any allergies? This is important, sir.”
I knew I should be focusing, trying to pull some answers out of the depths of my brain, but all I could hear was the growing impatience of the medic working on Tal.
“More pressure, I can’t stop the bleeding. We need to move, people…”
“Sir, stay with me, does she smoke? Drugs? Alcohol?”
“Any family history?”
“Last menstrual period?”
What? Why was he still in my face, why was he asking me this? Didn’t he hear the other guy? They needed to move. Can’t stop the bleeding. Fuck, that sounded bad. The crimson saturated gauze being pressed against her wound by the full weight of the taller medic looked worse. His blue gloves were now dripping in red blood. Tal’s blood. I could only focus on the growing ring soaking the white sheet lining the stretcher.
“No, no … I don’t know. What the hell does it matter? She’s bleeding—he can’t stop it. She needs to get to the hospital. Now. ”
Right now the only thing I was certain of was we were wasting precious time, minutes were ticking by because I knew jack about jack. The answers weren’t going to magically appear. What did it matter if she ever had surgery? That was then and this was now. My woman needed to be in a hospital. Now. Actually forget that, she needed to be there twenty minutes ago. I took a deep breath, praying like hell the extra oxygen would keep me from imploding. I needed to keep it together. Tal needed me to keep it together.
Another paramedic who looked younger than Tack came out of nowhere. “Mr. Craig, we’re getting ready to move.” About fucking time. “We have space for one, two at the most, do you want to ride with us?”
Balance, Cock, Torque, Strike.
“She goes, I go.”
He got the message. “Of course. And so you know, we got in touch with Dr. Colton as you requested. He’s been updated on our ETA. He’ll meet us in the ER.”
Autopilot clicked on. The others needed to know what was happening and I wanted to check on Tack. He was pacing the terrace, arms crossed, shaking his head at the officer. His anger and frustration were palpable. Yet when his familiar grey eyes nailed me, I saw through his stoic presence and composure. He was just a boy. A terrified and lost boy. Tal’s boy.
“We’re done here. You need more answers, meet us at the hospital.” I abruptly ended the questioning, not caring if they were finished. How much detail was necessary? Psycho’s suicide put a stray bullet in my woman. End of story. “Tack, bud, we have to go.”
Lil managed to do a one eighty, pulling herself together. She stepped right in. “My car’s out front. Tack can drive with me, we’ll follow right behind.” She grabbed his hand and forced his gaze. “Your mom wouldn’t want you to see them working on her in the back of an ambulance. She’s going to be fine, I know it. You don’t need that image burned in your brain.”
Seven minutes. What did you think of? Heaven.
I always did.
The ambulance ride lasted all of seven minutes. Seven minutes of roaring sirens and radio calls relaying vital signs and medical details. Seven minutes of staring at Talia’s closed lids and soft lips. Seven minutes of replaying every song she ever sang, every laugh that stole my breath away. Seven minutes remembering how a few hours earlier I asked her to be my other half, my forever plus one, yet I couldn’t answer a single damn question about her medical history. Because I never bothered to ask. Seven minutes of regret. Seven minutes of holding her IV pierced hand, wondering how the night went from good to great to horrific, all within a blink of an eye. Seven minutes of serious bargaining with the man upstairs.
We needed more time. We planned for a lifetime of more time. And now the clock was ticking. Every minute counted. Hell no, these were not our last seven minutes. She was a fighter. She was strong.
Seven minutes. What did you think of? Hell.
I always would.
It was the longest seven minutes of my life.
When the claustrophobic rig pulled into the ambulance bay, I blinked and tried to refocus. I was in the middle of, no, I was living a sick nightmare. Only a twisted mind fuck would explain the army of masked faces standing gloved and crossed-armed with fluorescent yellow gowns layered over their scrubs. For a split second I could have been on my couch watching a shit episode of Grey’s Anatomy, but then the metal double doors swung open and the small battalion engaged in force.
There was a three count and
Tal’s stretcher was up and out. Everyone wore clear plastic goggles, warping their faces, but it didn’t matter as soon as I locked eyes with the only person I trusted. More meaning was exchanged with that look than could ever be said with words.
“Go,” Chase barked and the medic holding IV fluid bags above his head instantly started spewing coded information. “Thirty-seven-year-old female GSW to the mid-back, no exit wound, standard nine millimeter per officer on the scene. Bystander reported brief verbal and mobility before LOC, EBL twenty-five hundred, BP sixty over thirty, heart rate fifty and thready, respirations thirteen. Immobilized on the scene, two sixteen gauge ante-cubes placed with two liter bolus’ of LR. Unknown past medical surgical, no known allergies, unknown meds.”
It was the fastest hand off in history, and I prayed whatever he just said meant something to someone, because it meant shit to this bystander.
Two yellows flanked her on both sides; one plugged in equipment and repositioned big red carts around her stretcher. The other went straight for the only piece of fabric still remaining, her underwear. With one last cut she was completely naked and exposed. I hated it. The small EKG leads were affixed to her chest and a mask pumped oxygen into her lungs. She looked even paler against the bright white backdrop. She lay so still as the room swarmed around her, matching the feeling in my gut. My eyes jutted back and forth, watching the monitor, then her chest, then back to the commotion of people constantly touching her. The same medic from the house was holding pressure over her wound. He hadn’t budged. Someone tried to replace him, but he insisted he had ‘good compression.’ He was the only one as still as she was. I watched as the clear liquid that had been pouring into her vein was replaced with a tube filled with a dark red substance. That swarm in my gut began to sting. Blood. She lost too much blood. I nervously clasped my hands behind my head, never feeling more useless.
“You.” Chase pointed at a ponytailed yellow blending into the periphery and hissed, “I want two units O neg, and two more type and crossed as soon as it’s ready.” Before she picked up the wall-mounted phone, Chase’s venomous tone stilled her. “As in, fucking RUN down to the blood bank and get it. NOW.” He turned his focus back on Tal. “Move. I need to see.”
The medic backed off under Chase’s instruction and the two yellows rolled her on her side. Chase tore the heavy bandage from her wound, dropping it to the ground and splattering the white tile with blood. Her blood. My eyes shifted focus and panic punched my gut. I wasn’t prepared for the sight of the round gaping hole torn through her flesh or the violent spurts of fiery blood. I slapped a hand over my mouth, forcing back the flaming sickness rising up. My heart pounded in my throat, threatening to cut off what was left of the air still squeezing through. The surrounding half glass walls started closing in, increasing the temperature to near sweltering. Yet I was frozen in hell. My feet were cemented.
I bent over, fighting for more oxygen, the approaching darkness coming fast. Just breathe, I chanted to the accelerated thud deep in my chest. Come on, Teeps, not like this. Not like this. No way I would ever leave her alone, she needed me. And as long as I was alive, I would fight for her. This was not our story, hell no.
Voices started echoing in every direction.
“Where’s portable X-ray? I need c-spine, chest, and pelvis.”
“A-line’s in.”
“Her hemoglobin’s four, we need that blood.”
“Get me a Foley cath.”
A taller guy grabbed a sealed square kit off the top of the cart and ripped it open. Now on her back, he bent her knees up and spread her legs. The cement beneath my feet cracked and I jolted forward. I was consumed with an irrational anger. My woman was not just another trauma, a ragdoll open for the room to see. Oh hell no. My already flaming insides were now an uncontrolled wildfire. I cursed that Roy Wayne was ever born. The intensity of this terror, the rage brimming to a head was crushing. It was choking me.
“Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to wait outside.” A nurse half my height stepped in front of me thinking she was halting my progression. Good luck with that.
Chase saw I was about to lose my ever loving mind, snagged a gown off the shelf, and loosely covered her. “Go, Ash.” He wasn’t asking, and I wasn’t listening. He pulled down his goggles and ripped off his mask. Then my best friend said, “I’ve got her man, I’ve got her.”
Trust. It was all I had.
I hated hospitals—did I mention that?
“Over here.” I raised my arm so they could see me.
“What did they say? Is she okay, did she wake up, did they call Chase ... I tried to get him on the ride over, he wasn’t answering. He always answers me, always.” Lil was spiraling back into hysterics. I selfishly wanted to tell her to get a grip because my only focus was what was going on in the trauma bay. But then I remembered that she just had a gun pointed at her face and witnessed a psycho with a grudge off himself in the middle of her living room. We all deserved to be hysterical.
This wasn’t real. None of it. Wake me the fuck up.
Tack silently lowered himself into a linked waiting room chair. Leaning forward with his elbows to his knees, he raked his hair. I squeezed the back of his neck because I had nothing else to give him. Lili was right—he didn’t need what I just witnessed burned in his memory. Our combined tension made the small private waiting room deathly claustrophobic. He needed to hear that she woke up, that his mother was going to be fine. Hell, I needed those words too. I paced. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Lili stood next to Tack and rubbed his back. “Chase has to be with her, he’s got to be,” Lili whispered, comforting him. My frustration built and burst.
“He is,” I hissed. “That’s why he didn’t answer. And since we only got here less than five minutes ago, I have no update. Give them a chance to do their job.”
“Okay.” She bit her lip and wiped under her eyes. “I’m just gonna go outside and make some calls. It’s the last thing you need to worry about and I’m sure you’ll want your family here for support.” She paused at the door and turned back around. “And, um, I really am …” her voice cracked but she fought for control. “… I’m so, so sorry this happened.”
I was a dick for how I snapped. She’s the one who deserved an apology—one I’d owe her later. She had nothing to be sorry for. None of this was her fault. It was Roy Wayne’s fault and his alone. Knowing that didn’t free the weight from my shoulders, though. I should have stopped him.
Tack had yet to utter a word. He was putting up the bravest front. Talia always talked about how much he reminded her of Chase and Kim. Right now he was all Tal. They shared their own coat of armor and his was out and in full force. I could only pray that Tal was back there utilizing hers because I had the sickest feeling she was amidst the fight of her life.
The silence was maddening. We had no answers. Time seemed to have stopped as we waited. I slowed my pace and sat next to him.
“She’s gonna make it,” I said out loud. Maybe to myself, maybe to Tack. Not sure if it made either of us feel better, but we were in this together. We had to be. Considering the possibility of alone was excruciating. God forbid things went wrong today and the unthinkable happened, this kid, Tal’s boy was my family. Is my family.
He didn’t break his stare from the floor tile when he mumbled, “Good to know you added psychic to your credentials.”
He tipped his head and caught my eye. There were enough unspoken words radiating off of him to fill a book. There were so many things we wanted to say, probably starting with why the hell did this happen? If giving me an iota of his humor was his outlet, who was I to judge?
I gave him his reprieve, even if only for a second. “Smartass,” I muttered back.
There was a commotion outside the door, abruptly ending our nearly wordless conversation.
“I get you’re an intern, but let me clarify it for you. When I say now, I mean now. I don’t care what the scheduler told you, she’s in next. Got
me? Go make it happen.”
I was up and standing with a thousand less pounds, hearing him bark. Chase stalked in with his typical intensity. And as much as I hated taking the ride to hell and back with him, I learned to read his tone. Arrogant, powerful, superior—yes, but there was no fear in his voice. My woman was still alive.
“Talk to me.” I braced my legs and crossed my arms, prepared to take what he had to give. The small hitch in Chase’s breath was not lost on us as his eyes did a double take when Tack flanked my right.
Without hesitation, Tack extended his right hand. “I’m Tack. How’s my mother?”
“Chase.”
The significance of their first handshake was only as important as the health of the woman who tied them together. Tal was our only focus. I lifted my chin, signaling Chase to start talking. My patience was nonexistent and Chase knew it.
“The bullet penetrated her back and severed a blood vessel causing excessive bleeding. That and the trauma resulted in shock and rendered her unconscious. X-ray shows the bullet lodged lateral to her spine, it needs to come out. Now. I need to repair the damage and stop the bleeding. We’ve transfused her, stabilized her with pressors, and started steroids for the swelling. She should be finishing up in CT shortly. I wanted to make sure there were no surprises before I go in. I don’t expect any.”
Tack exhaled the breath he probably didn’t realize he was holding. I knew I did.
Chase wiped at his face, switching gears from surgeon to pissed off friend. “Man, she got lucky. The way she described it, my guess is the first shot ricocheted off the ceiling and possibly the floor before it struck her. Since the bullet wasn’t through and through it must have lost significant velocity. It could’ve fucking landed anywhere and caused a hell of a lot more damage.”
“Wait, what did you say? Tal told you what happened, she’s awake?”
“Yeah, she’s moving now, alert and oriented.”
“You don’t think you could have started with that tidbit?” Tack must have read my mind.
Beautifully Done Page 25
