Call Me Michigan

by Sam Destiny

“Mason, get your ass in gear! There’s need for the helicopter. A car crash occurred somewhere close to your hometown. A tractor and two trucks. One driver is stuck inside the vehicle and unresponsive as well as badly injured, and so far, they can’t get the person out. The fire engine brought equipment, so I think they’ll have that solved in a second.”

  Mason was already running toward his helicopter, adrenaline surging through his body. He loved knowing that, as a helicopter pilot for the emergency crew, he saved lives just by arriving at an accident site quicker than any emergency vehicle. He hopped into his seat, putting his helmet on while starting the engine with the other hand and hitting the switches he could hit blind.

  One doctor and two EMTs, Seth included, joined him, and in no time, they were up in the air.

  “What street?” he asked over the speaker, leading the helicopter in the general direction of home.

  “It’s a side road between fields. One is a corn field, and one is empty,” came the instant reply.

  Mason cursed under his breath. More than enough streets fit that description and most lay in opposing directions.

  “Ask for more info,” the doctor suggested, but Mason just shook his head.

  “Did the firefighter say empty or something different?” he inquired. He knew that people from around the farms would make that distinction because it was natural for them. He had one in mind that he at least could rule out if that weren't the case. He remembered passing a field with a tractor yesterday, and by the field’s acreage, he guessed they’d still be busy.

  “Actually, the dude said plowed,” Seth recalled over the speaker, and Mason just hoped there wouldn’t be more fields freshly plowed across from a cornfield. He knew where to go now, and it didn’t take long until Mason spotted the bright red fire engine, a tractor, and …

  “That’s Tay’s truck! Oh, my God, that’s her!” Describing that piece of junk as a truck was like calling a whale a flounder. As if his worries weren’t enough, Mason’s mind had the courtesy to replay all the things he had said to Taylor; all the ways he had hurt her.

  “Fuck, Mase, focus until we are down!” Seth called over the speaker, and Mason took a few calming breaths, and then cleared his throat.

  “Right side of the crash. I’m going down on the field, and I will not stay behind this time.” Usually, he stayed near the helicopter to make sure they were ready at any given time, but with Taylor being in the accident, he wouldn’t stay by the heli until he’d seen her. Shutting down all emotions, he landed the helicopter, touching down as gently as ever and turning off the engine before everyone jumped out. Mason followed, his whole body numb with worry.

  “Taylor? Please, Taylor, answer.” His call echoed across the accident site, and he didn’t care what people thought of him. He didn’t see her blond head anywhere, and it made his lungs seize.

  A firefighter stepped to his side. “Sir, you need to calm down. The driver’s still in the truck and is unconscious. Is there someone we can contact to meet us at the hospital once the injured is out?”

  Mason’s head was swimming. He stared at the guy, but every word was hard to comprehend. He didn’t want to call Tammy with news like that, especially since Taylor would hate to have worried her sister. That was if Tay was still alive. God, he couldn’t even think that.

  “Miss, you need to …”

  “I need to do fuck! Let me go.”

  Mason’s knees almost gave in as he heard Taylor’s voice just behind the fire engine inside the open ambulance doors. He reached for the truck, the relief so great he wasn’t sure his racing heart would ever calm down again.

  “Mase, it’s not her,” Seth screamed the moment he got close enough to the second truck. He threw a glance at Mason, checking, and Mason gave him a thumbs-up.

  He turned and looked for the doctor, spotting him checking on the driver still stuck.

  “You gotta live with an EMT for now,” the firefighter announced, reading his questioning gaze. Mason nodded and then moved over to where Taylor was.

  A bloody handprint covered her blonde French braid, clearly a spot where she had checked for a head injury. Her red hands waved frantically through the air as she tried to avoid the exasperated EMT.

  “Let me go, John, and don’t act as if you’ve never seen me before! Timothy’s alone at home!” She turned to the side, enough for Mason to see what John actually was reaching for: Taylor’s brow was cut and bleeding heavily. The whole right side of her face was swollen.

  “I need to see …” John’s eyes fell on Mason, relief flooding his features. “There’s a second EMT taking you over now.”

  “I’ll take it from here,” Mason agreed in a hoarse voice, and Taylor stiffened, hugging herself.

  “Take what you need,” John replied as he pointed toward his bag before walking away a little too hastily to let Mason fend for himself. The moment he stepped around Taylor, his body went into EMT mode, needing to take care of her. He sat down on the steps leading up to the ambulance, the open doors looking rather inviting. Left of him was the health kit and he tucked Taylor closer until she stood between his knees. He avoided her eyes, knowing he wouldn’t be able to function if he saw her expression. Blood was running down her cheek like rain, and his stomach dropped. Technically, he knew that head wounds tended to bleed more than most, but seeing hers, he worried she was losing too much blood.

  “Dizzy?” His tone was clipped. Anything else and he’d pull her into his arms before assuring himself that she was fine.

  Her lips pressed together as she shook her head.

  “Pain?” She gritted her teeth. He felt it against his fingertips as he prodded her cheek gently to see if anything was broken. She had another cut right below her eye on her cheekbone. That one wasn’t bleeding any longer, making him release a breath. The pain question had been redundant, he knew that, but he needed to know if she was in agony.

  “No pain,” she lied, most likely knowing that she couldn’t convince him.

  “You need stitches. Let me bandage you up and then we’ll take you to the hospital. I-”

  “Thank you, but no. I’m fine. I just need to go home.” She glanced back at her broken truck; rapidly blinking as well as her swollen eye let her. “Tim’s home, and while I’m not his mother, I’m his legal guardian. Therefore, I need to take care of him.” She was hurt, angry, and Mason couldn’t blame her.

  The problem was he shook so hard that he didn’t trust himself to do more than bandage her up. He wrapped the white dressing around her head, applying just enough pressure to hopefully stop the bleeding, and then he pushed her gently away from him. No way could he ensure she didn’t have broken bones or internal bleeding, so while he wanted to close her in his arms, he wouldn’t for fear of hurting her further. Instead, he fisted his fingers until his knuckles turned white, trying to keep his hands occupied and gritting his teeth so hard he worried they’d crack under the pressure.

  “Sit,” he finally ordered, but to his dismay, she just stood there, head lowered as silent tears rolled down her mutilated cheeks.

  ***

  Mason was so mad at her; he couldn’t even meet her eyes. Taylor clenched her hands, trying to regain control of her whirlwind emotions, but it was impossible. Instead of focusing on him, she took stock of her body. Her feet hurt but worked fine. Her legs carried her, though they were shaky. Arms and upper body? She moved the left side slightly, then the right, flexing her fingers, too. Worked well as well. Needless to say, everything hurt, reminding her with even the tiniest movement that she’d just been in a crash, but it seemed as if nothing was worse than bruises and swelling. Head? She softly shook it, instantly wincing as the world started to spin. She reached for something to hold onto and found warm skin. Her fingers wrapped around Mason’s biceps, and it was only then that she noticed his short-sleeved uniform.

  “Michigan,” he whispered, steadying her against his side. It felt good to absorb his warmth. In the back of her mind, she knew there w
as no reason for her to freeze, especially because October had brought warm weather with it. Still, her teeth clattered together, giving off a weird staccato sound.

  “Taylor!” Suddenly, she was pulled against Mason’s chest. She felt the weight of his arms settle around her, yet the touch was barely there as if he feared he’d finish what neither truck nor tractor had been able to do.

  “He was texting,” she stuttered. “It wasn’t my fault.” She grabbed his shirt, holding on as if her life depended on it. “The second truck pushed me from behind. I wanted to stop. I saw the guy, but he was busy with his phone, too. Shouldn’t you be at least … I don’t know, looking at the street with one eye?” She all but sobbed now. “He was speeding, too. On a country road! I didn’t do it. I wasn’t being irresponsible. I swear it wasn’t my fault.” Her breath hitched. “I’m just so glad I had returned Becca already. I would’ve never forgiven myself if she’d been hurt. That beautiful little girl. God!” She felt his arms tighten around her at that.

  She raised her face to his, but he just leaned in closer. “I wasn’t irresponsible,” she promised again as he stayed silent, his cheek gently pressed against her uninjured one. They were almost breathing the same air as he whispered nonsense to calm her down and stop her sobs, but she couldn’t relax.

  A guy she didn’t know stepped toward them, and Mason pulled back, making Taylor ready to protest.

  “Status?” the other guy asked, obviously being a doctor.

  “Shock, heavily bleeding cut across the brow, definitely needs stitches. Swelling to the left side of her face, eye seems to be okay, maybe broken bones in her cheek. I couldn’t feel anything without hurting her. Possible concussion; has dizzy spells when moving her head too fast. No other obvious injuries, but we can’t be sure until we’ve done an ultrasound and x-rays,” Mason reported, his tone somber and professional, as if she was just any other patient to him.

  Only then it registered with her that they wanted to take her to a hospital.

  “Okay. Get her in the heli, we’re taking her,” the other guy decided.

  “Yes, Doc,” Mason said, confirming her suspicion about the other man. That moment she didn’t care, though, starting to shake her head until she remembered the effect it had on her. Swaying on her feet again, she forced herself to speak.

  “Home. I’m going home,” she gritted out, but Mason pulled his cell from his pocket, dialing before lifting it to his ear.

  “Mom, get Timmy from the Collins’ farm. Tell him he’s having a sleepover and that you’ll drive him to school afterward. Make something up, but be sure he doesn’t start worrying. I’m taking Michigan’s stubborn ass to the hospital. I’ll call you later with updates and everything that happened,” he promised the person on the other end of the line.

  “How am I ever going to prove to you that I can do that parent –”

  She was interrupted when Mason picked her up, careful yet without hesitation. “What the hell are you doing, Stiles? I’m not exactly …” He placed her inside the helicopter and then strapped her in, all the while noticing that he still couldn’t look at her.

  She took a deep breath. “I’m so incredibly sorry,” she stated and then was surprised when his stormy eyes finally lifted to hers and made her swallow. They were swimming with emotions.

  “You are sorry? God, Michigan, no. I am sorry. I was wrong to scream at you the way I did. I was wrong to accuse you of not being a mother. Mostly, though, I’m sorry about not being able to press you against me to make sure you forgive me. As it is, it takes everythin’ in me to refrain from doing that. You’re fucking injured, and I could break a bone that so far was only fractured.”

  She stared at him, noticing the way his hands shook, and his whole body trembled. “You’re scared,” she whispered in surprise. “Why?”

  He paused his movements, resting his forehead against her bandage ever so lightly. “Why? Because I thought you were badly injured or dead. After everythin’ I said to you. My last words to you would’ve been hateful and my chances at making it okay were …”

  Guilty. He was feeling guilty. Disappointment settled in the pit of her stomach. He probably thought his screaming at her had distracted her so much that she hadn’t paid attention.

  “It wasn’t your words crashing into me, Stiles, so you don’t have to feel guilty. This wasn’t your fault. I’m fine,” she assured him, her voice shaking.

  “Stupid, stubborn girl,” he cursed, brushing his lips over her uninjured ones in the softest way, more a peck than anything else. He moved to the front and jumped into the seat while next to her, doors were closed and orders shouted. Someone took the seat to her right, holding out her handbag to her.

  “The phone’s busted, but everything else looks okay. I’m Seth. Good to see you sitting upright,” the EMT explained, and she reached out to shake his hand. Her fingers shook so hard, she pulled them back instead.

  Her teeth hit together even harder, and black dots entered her vision.

  “I nearly died,” she whispered.

  “The lady’s going into shock!” were the last words she had heard before her whole body became blissfully numb.

  ***

  Hours passed before Mason could finally break free from work to go and check on Taylor. He had written up the demanded report, wondering since when those couldn’t wait until the next shift, and then they had been called to another accident with a drunken driver and a tree. The tree was fine, but the driver needed a cast and some stitches. In fact, he was much better than anticipated or they’d never have called the helicopter in the first place.

  “Stiles, you need me to come along and kick your shin when you start saying somethin’ stupid?” Seth offered, stepping to his side.

  Mason just glared at him before his anger melted. “I thought it was her. I saw the truck, and I freaked. I could’ve gotten us all in trouble,” he mumbled, and Seth patted his shoulder.

  “Dude, we’d have never involved you if we’d have known her truck was in the accident. No one expected you to think straight, but above all, you still managed to get us down safe and back here the same way. You did great,” Seth assured him.

  “I didn’t even tell her I’m sorry until I realized that she thought I was still mad at her. I wasn’t. How can she even think that? She stood in front of me, bleeding, and she thought I was mad at her.” He shook his head. “I almost went crazy with worry about her. Seth, what the hell am I supposed to say to her when I see her? If they let me see her? She thought the only reason I apologized was because I felt guilty …” Set rested his hand on Mason’s arm, stopping his tirade.

  “All you need to say is you’re sorry and that she’s your world. Everything else, the two of you can figure out once she’s left the hospital,” Seth promised.

  They walked along the white halls, and people greeted them with smiles. Mason and Seth were the reason many lives had been saved in here. Reaching the intensive care unit, a nurse stepped toward them, telling the guys that Taylor already had been transferred to a normal room since she was just being kept overnight for observation.

  Out of relief, Mason hugged Seth, smiling widely. “I guess I’m okay to go alone.” He grinned, almost light-headed. Taylor would be perfectly okay in no time at all.

  “Fine. Just remember not to say anythin’ stupid. As soon as you open your mouth, monitor your words carefully. If it sounds like an accusation, don’t say it,” Seth instructed, and Mason punched him playfully in the side.

  “Jerk. Just move.” Laughing, Seth walked back to where they had come from while Mason made his way to Taylor’s door. It was open, and he just wanted to rap his knuckles against the doorframe when a sob reached his ears.

  “Stop, Michigan. Jesus,” a different voice reacted. Clearly, Stella had called Ashley, and Taylor’s former best friend had made her way up here. Instead of running, which was his first impulse, he knocked and then went into the room.

  “Hey.” His voice was subdued since h
e had no idea what mood he’d find the girls in. His caution proved right when Ash shot daggers at him with her eyes. Taylor just closed hers, turning her battered face away from him.

  Ash leaned over, giving her friend a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll go and score some chocolate and coffee. I’ll be back in a little bit.” The smile she gave Taylor was tender, yet as she pushed past Mason, she bumped her shoulder into him. It was clearly done on purpose.

  “Taylor.” Mason couldn’t care less about the woman who had just left; his whole focus was on the one in the bed. He forced his feet to walk over to her, and he took a clipboard from its holder at the foot of her bed.

  “Just a minor concussion, stitches, contusions, and bruises,” she reported, her voice hushed. He nodded. Her ribs and shoulders were fine, which was all he needed to know for now. Mason moved around until he stood next to her, sitting down before leaning in to hug her tight.

  “God, Michigan, I was so worried that my last words to you were hateful instead of everythin’ I should’ve said like, for example, thank you for lovin’ Becca exactly the way you do.” Taylor was stiff under his hands, but he held her, burying his nose in the crook of her neck. “I’m sorry, Taylor, so sorry. There’s no way I could live happily in a world without you and seeing your truck –”

  “I’m fine, Mason, and you’re hurting me,” she stated, and he leaned back. Of course, he was since his head pressed against her cut cheek. He wondered what went on in her head, but she seemed to have reached a decision that he was not yet prior to.

  “I’m sorry,” he just repeated and then searched her eyes. It was hard to ignore the different hues of purple and yellow on her face. In fact, it was impossible for him because he could imagine how much pain she had to be in. “Why don’t I go and find somethin’ to take the pain away?”

  She shrugged wordlessly, and he left her alone to hunt down a cooling pack and a towel. It definitely would help with the swelling, and it gave him something to do.