Passionate Rivals

by Radclyffe

  The medic’s face was streaked with soot and sweat. She shook her head. “I don’t know. Fire rescue didn’t give us anything else—the kids were still inside and it was crazy.”

  “Okay,” Emmett said to Brinks. “If her gases are bad she’ll need an early trach.”

  “I can bronch her,” Brinks said.

  Emmett considered it. “If you try it, make sure we’re standing by to trach her. If she’s got burns in her airway and she spasms, you’ll lose her airway.”

  Brinks blanched. “Right. I’ll talk to Dr. Blake.”

  “About what?” Honor said, appearing as if by magic.

  Brinks jumped and Emmett grinned. She knew by now Honor always knew exactly what was happening with every patient in the ER and was never far away.

  “Probably airway burns,” Emmett said.

  Honor listened to the patient’s chest. Nodded. “What about the rest of her injuries?”

  “I estimated fifty percent surface area burns,” Emmett said. “Twenty percent are deep second, possibly third.” She pulled up her calculator app and plugged in the burn formula to determine fluid management. “We’re going to need to up her fluids.”

  “I’ll speed up the IV,” Brinks said.

  “Good,” Honor said. “We’ll need to transfer her. They can do the bronch when she arrives. We don’t want to end up doing an emergency trach down here and then sticking her in an ambulance for a ride across town.”

  Brinks looked crestfallen.

  “You want me to call about the transfer?” Emmett said. She wasn’t getting a surgery out of this case but was satisfied she’d done the job. “I want to check on the others.”

  “See how many more we have to ship,” Honor said, “before you call.”

  “Right.” Emmett slipped into the group surrounding the other adult, a middle-aged male with thick burns over most of his chest, shoulders, and arms. If she had to guess, she’d put him closest to the start of the fire. Maybe his clothes had caught on fire or he’d gotten burned trying to put the fire out. His fingers were frozen into claws, a sign they were dying from lack of oxygen.

  Syd was about to incise the burned tissue encircling his arms to release the constrictions that were blocking blood flow and killing the muscles and nerves underneath. Quinn looked over her shoulder as she made the first cut.

  “That’s it, keep the incision midline and just go through the burn for now. If we need to go deeper, we can do that as a second pass,” Quinn said. “What else are you looking for?”

  Syd said, “The ulnar nerve by the elbow and the superficial radial at the wrist.”

  “Good.”

  As Syd divided the charred tissue, none of which was bleeding, the underlying tissues immediately swelled into the gap, and she said, “Most of this fat looks dead.”

  “Probably is,” Quinn said. “We can debride it later. Emmett, get the Doppler and check flow in the digits.”

  Emmett grabbed the Doppler and slid the probe over the palm. “I’ve got flow to the fingers.”

  Quinn grinned. “Good work, Stevens.” She turned to Emmett. “What have you got in one?”

  “She needs to be transferred to a burn unit. She’s got upper airway involvement, probably pulmonary too.”

  “See if either of the kids will need to go too,” Quinn said.

  “I’ll get an update from peds and then call about the transfers.” Emmett headed over to where Dani and Zoey worked on two preteens, both of whom were unconscious and intubated. “What’s the status?”

  Zoey checked the monitors and stepped away from the bed. “No direct burns but both of them have lousy blood gases and a lot of facial swelling. They were most likely trapped somewhere, breathing hot air and toxic gases.”

  “Will they need to be trached?” Emmett asked.

  Zoey shrugged. “Not right now but maybe in a few days if things don’t resolve.”

  “So we can keep them here.”

  “I’ll check with Fitzpatrick, but yeah, I think so. It’s mostly going to be critical care, and our PICU can handle that.”

  “Okay—I’ve got one to transfer, so I’m going to call.”

  Zoey looked over to where Syd and Quinn worked on the male patient. “I noticed you’ve made a new conquest.”

  Emmett felt a flush rise in her neck. “You don’t want to go there, Zoey.”

  “Really? Since when did you get sensitive about that?”

  “Let it go, okay?”

  Zoey shook her head. “What’s the big deal, Emmett. It’s not like I haven’t seen you play around before.”

  “I’m not playing around.”

  “Sure you’re not.” Zoey laughed. “Who are you trying to kid?”

  “Nobody.” Emmett let out a long breath. “Look, I gotta go take care of this transfer.”

  “Whatever you say.” Zoey turned her back, and Emmett walked away.

  Zoey had it all wrong. She couldn’t be fooling herself, because she had no idea what was going on. She wouldn’t even know where to start.

  * * *

  Syd made the last longitudinal incision in the left arm, gritting her teeth behind her mask as she divided the dead tissue. Burns were horrible injuries. She’d seen a few at Franklin, but nothing like this. She hoped she never saw another one.

  When she put the scalpel down, her hand was shaking.

  “Good job,” Quinn said.

  “I’m just glad he wasn’t awake for it.”

  “You probably saved his arm,” Quinn said.

  “But not his hand.”

  “Maybe even part of that too.”

  “I’ll get splints for his wrists and hands,” Syd said.

  “Then you’re outta here.”

  Syd frowned. “What?”

  “You worked all night, right?” Quinn said. “Remember the thirty-hour rule.”

  “Yes, but I got some sleep.” That was an exaggeration, but Maguire didn’t need to know that.

  Quinn shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It counts as continuous hours in the hospital. Besides, these patients are all set. As soon as they’re ready to roll, you take off.”

  Syd sighed. “All right, you’re the boss.”

  Quinn grinned. “That’s true.”

  Syd laughed. She wasn’t sure where she found the energy to laugh, because everything inside seemed hurt.

  Emmett was on the phone when she left. Syd didn’t say good-bye.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The screen door opened and closed and familiar steps crossed the wooden porch. Zoey sat down opposite Emmett on the top step and leaned back against the post, a beer in her hand.

  “Hi,” Emmett said.

  The sun had just settled beyond the tops of the maples bordering the far reach of the backyard, and a few golden rays cut through the green branches and dappled the bottom steps. The scent of grilling food drifted on the gradually cooling breeze. She must’ve been out here at least an hour, but she couldn’t remember what she’d been thinking, if she’d been thinking anything at all. The beer bottle beside her ran with rivulets of condensation, and when she put her hand around it, it was warm. She’d forgotten about that, along with the time.

  “Here.” Zoey stood and passed her cold bottle to Emmett. “I’ll get another one.”

  “Thanks,” Emmett said.

  A minute later, Zoey returned and resumed her seat, stretching her legs out toward Emmett. She’d changed into a red tank top and loose navy shorts, pushing the late spring weather a little, but after what had seemed like a very long cold winter, any hint of warmth was cause for celebration. Zoey sipped her beer and studied Emmett. Finally, she said, “So what’s going on with you?”

  Emmett sighed. “Nothing.”

  Zoey snorted. “That’s why you’re sitting out here pining?”

  “I’m not pining.” Emmett managed to laugh, because she probably was pining. That also probably explained why she couldn’t remember what she’d been doing for the last hour since she g
ot home. She could actually pinpoint the reason, if she was being honest—and why pretend anything else? When she’d finished in the trauma unit, she looked for Syd, but she was gone. Syd was good at that, disappearing. The disappointment still stung a little.

  “Well, we can argue about what you’re doing—pining versus not pining, and why,” Zoey said conversationally, “or we can pretend nothing’s going on and I can leave you to play all wounded by yourself. Then again, I suppose we could get really extreme, and you could talk to me.”

  “Are you trying to tell me I’m being an ass?”

  Zoey smiled. “I was trying to be nicer about it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” Zoey put her bottle down and looped her arms around her bare knees. “What exactly are you sorry for? Being unavailable in bed? Being strange and uncommunicative for the last few weeks? Or sleeping with Syd Stevens?”

  “I didn’t sleep with her.”

  “Aha. See which one you answered first?” Zoey’s gaze sharpened, a fox sighting the hare. “So why don’t we start there. What’s going on, since I think if you answered that, all the other questions will be answered too.”

  “Are you really mad we’re not sleeping together?”

  “Well, you’re pretty good in bed—”

  Emmett laughed. “Thank you.”

  “But I’m not exactly withering up and blowing away. I do have other options.”

  “I know that. And, you know, I thought we were good on…us with or without the physical stuff.”

  Zoey rolled her eyes. “We were, we are. It’s not the absence of sex, it’s the absence of you. Dummy.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You said that. Still the same questions.”

  “I haven’t been clear enough in my own head to explain anything, I guess. And some things aren’t just about me, so it didn’t seem like I really could share them.”

  “Back to Syd Stevens again, right?”

  “Right.” Emmett drank some of her beer and considered why she hadn’t said anything to anyone about knowing Syd before this. “Syd has always been there in the back of my mind, you know? Like an unfinished story.”

  Zoey sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing. “Come again?”

  “We met before, when I was a med student.”

  “You and Stevens?” Zoey’s voice had gone up an octave. “You have a history.”

  Emmett winced. It sounded bad, the fact she hadn’t said anything to her best friend until now. “Yes. A complicated one. From a long time ago.”

  “And you never thought to say anything. For weeks.”

  “It wasn’t just about me.”

  “Oh, come on. What could be so important you had to keep it a secret. You slept with her?”

  “Come on, Zoey. I’m not going to talk about that.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Zoey tilted her head, gave Emmett a piercing glare. “I’m not asking for the specifics—like I don’t know what the details would be like or anything.”

  “I know. It’s just…that’s not what this is about.”

  “Okay, fine, if you say so. I’m still pretty much in the dark here. What exactly is it about?”

  “It’s about me, all right?” Emmett set her beer down, frustrated at not being able to sort out her own feelings, let alone talk about them to someone else. “It’s my problem, okay? I just never got past it.”

  Zoey’s lips parted. “Wow,” she said after a long pause, her voice dropping back to normal. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah,” Emmett said, finding it easier to say the words than she’d imagined, now that she’d started. “I am. I never forgot. Any of it.” She shook her head. “I wish I had. Syd seems to have.”

  “And you never said anything about her all this time?”

  “I told you—Syd deserves not to have her past tossed around with strangers.”

  “No,” Zoey said, waving a hand, “I don’t mean why didn’t you tell me about her now, I mean before now. Before Syd showed up again. We’ve been friends for years—we’ve been sleeping together, for crying out loud—and you never mentioned this woman in your past.”

  “Because she was in the past,” Emmett said sharply. “Over, done.”

  Zoey laughed and shook her head. “But not forgotten.”

  Emmett leaned her head back against the post, watching the first sliver of moon appear in the deepening skies. “No, not forgotten. And now I just keep remembering.”

  “What about her? What does she say about reconnecting?”

  Emmett rocked her head from side to side. “Syd doesn’t seem to want to remember anything.”

  “So…nothing happened last night? And that’s why you’re sitting out here ruminating.”

  Emmett gave her a long look. “I’d rather not talk about that.”

  “Okay,” Zoey said agreeably, nodding her head. “We won’t talk about it, which means something happened but maybe not as much as you would like to happen. Am I warm?”

  Emmett laughed. “Warm enough.”

  “You know I love you, right?” Zoey said.

  Emmett stiffened. “Zoey—”

  “Not that way,” Zoey said. “Not in love with you, but I love you. I’d like it if you didn’t get your heart broken.”

  Emmett smiled wryly. “That already happened, Zoe. A long time ago.”

  * * *

  Dani walked into the kitchen and stared at Syd. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m packing,” Syd said.

  “No kidding.” Dani made a wry face as she took in the open boxes on the counters, the floor, and almost every other available space, and the foot-high stack of newspapers Syd had collected from around the house. “This is what you do with your time off? You pack and make the rest of us feel guilty?”

  Syd shook her head. “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I was just restless, and we need to pack. We’re moving in two days, remember?”

  “In theory, I am aware. I’m trying not to think about the actual act.” Dani snagged one of the remaining glasses from the cabinet above the sink, threaded her way between the boxes to the refrigerator, and pulled out a half-full bottle of wine.

  “That’s four days old,” Syd pointed out.

  “Time we got rid of it, then. Consider it my contribution to housecleaning.” Dani poured a glass and hopped up onto the counter in her usual place. “Are you going to do laundry and clean the bathrooms next?”

  “I don’t know, maybe. Why?” Syd placed a plate she’d wrapped in newspaper into a box, carefully folded the flaps, and labeled it kitchen dishware with a black Sharpie.

  “Because that’s what you do when something is bothering you.”

  Syd turned and folded her arms across her chest. “Nothing is bothering me.”

  Dani sipped her wine. “Syd, no bullshitting here. This is your I’m-not-going-to-think-about-it behavior. Rare, I’ll admit, but recognizable after all this time.”

  “You still want to move, right?” Syd said.

  “Are you kidding me? I can’t wait until I don’t have to drive to work anymore. Of course I want to move. So does Jerry.”

  “That’s good to hear. I haven’t seen him enough to know what he’s up to,” Syd said.

  “You’re trying to change the subject, and it’s not going to work.”

  Syd laughed. “I really haven’t seen Jerry for more than five minutes at a time for two weeks.”

  “That’s because he’s busy banging Sadie.” Syd rolled her eyes and Dani grinned. “Which means he wants to move even more than we do, because she’s only a couple blocks away from the new place.”

  “He’s going to have to pack his own underwear,” Syd said.

  “I’ll tell him unless you see him first.” Dani finished the rest of the wine and set the glass aside. “What about you, do you want to move?”

  “Sure,” Syd said and turned back to her packing.

  “Into the same house as Emmett
?”

  Syd felt her shoulders tighten but kept on wrapping dishes. “We’re not moving into the same house. We’re moving next door.”

  “Uh-huh, with a shared yard and adjoining porch. It’s very cozy.”

  “We’ll hardly ever be there, probably never even see each other.”

  “I recognize avoidance behavior when I see it. When you’re ready to tell me what’s going on, I’ll be all ears.” Dani jumped down and gave her a quick hug. “She’s hot, by the way.”

  Syd laughed. She couldn’t help it. Dani had a way of slicing through emotional turmoil with humor, even though she suspected that was Dani’s defense against the things she’d rather not feel. “She’s very hot. I totally agree.”

  “Glad to hear your heart’s still beating. So, you know, maybe you should worry less and just take what’s out there to be had.”

  Syd braced her hands on the counter and stared at the row of dishes she still needed to pack away. She’d been trying not to think about Emmett all afternoon, and she’d been pretty much unsuccessful. The impression of Emmett’s body against hers was still alive. The heat of Emmett’s mouth, the taste of her, the desire for her still curled within her. Take what was out there to be had. Yes, she’d tried that once.

  “I’m not very good at that,” Syd murmured.

  “I have a feeling McCabe could help you out there.”

  Syd laughed softly. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

  * * *

  Emmett nursed a cup of coffee in the kitchen just after six a.m. She couldn’t seem to sleep late even on a day off. Lately it was worse. Even when she did get to sleep, her dreams were restless and she woke up feeling tired. After all these years of broken sleep, she could usually grab a few hours of deep sleep day or night and wake up feeling halfway rested. For the last couple of nights, she’d dreamed of kisses that faded into elusive fragments, and awakened frustrated and tired.

  This morning she had the house to herself—Zoey had been on call the night before and wasn’t due back until midday. Hank had spent the night with another student, supposedly studying for finals, but she suspected there was more sex than studying going on. She’d done the same in his place near the end of med school, except her celebration had been haunted by what might have been if she’d been on her way to University with Syd still there.