by Kat Catesby
My face pales, bile rises into my throat and I feel lightheaded. I don’t do dizzy, ever. But April’s assessment has the blood rapidly draining from my face.
Sweet Jesus. What has that monster done to her?
“Sit down before you fall down,” Elliot’s arm grips me and helps to lower me to the ground as Max talks into his radio, relaying everything April said.
That’s when I remember Bill.
Fuck.
With the shit storm around me, I completely forgot that he was with Katie and the only reason he won’t have killed that fucker himself would be because David hurt him first.
God, no.
Bill is like a father to me. I can’t lose another. Just when I think this night can’t possibly get worse, I realize that I still have more to lose. That knowledge hurts so much.
With my heart beating rapidly enough to explode, I leap up and sprint towards the house just as Moira comes into view.
“Asher, what’s going on? I can see the lights flashing from our cottage –”
“Bill,” I yell at her and vault up the porch steps, heavy footfalls, likely belonging to Max, behind me. We divide and conquer; he goes left and I head right into the kitchen and then on towards the rear porch where I find him slumped against a wall, blood trickling down his face but starting to come around. David must’ve knocked him out with a blow to the head.
“He’s over here,” I yell.
Max and Moira round the corner moments later; Moira crying and running to her husband’s side.
“I’m okay my love,” his voice is strained and hoarse. His eyes suddenly bug and he makes to stand, “Katie, where’s Katie?” he asks but pales when he looks at my face.
An awkward beat of silence follows. One I don’t know how to fill. Whatever I say, Bill will feel awful for not protecting Katie. Even though it isn’t his job and he was outmatched by a much younger and stronger man.
My mouth won’t form words and seeing my difficulty, Max answers for me.
“She’s hurt but the medics are with her now. We’ll know more once we get her to hospital.”
I’ve always liked that Max doesn’t sugar-coat shit, lie or make false promises, but his honesty of the situation is too much. I turn and stride back out of the house and run back to Katie, needing to be beside her now that I know Bill is okay. The distant but growing sound of helicopter rota blades fill the dark and several things happen at once. More patrol cars arrive, including the sheriff and Detective Jones, and the chopper bears down on us, landing in a clearing not far from the house. The engine roars loudly while the rota blades whip up the wind and dust. A door on the side opens and more medics in red flight suits spill out and make a beeline for Katie. They talk to Smith and April and as a coordinated group, count down and move Katie onto a spinal board. They’re careful not to jostle her and that’s when I see that they’ve attached a neck brace, she’s intubated and being given oxygen and she’s attached to IV’s.
The sight makes me sick to my already fragile stomach. The entire hillside is alive with chaos, but the organized type that emergency personnel specialize in. Nothing makes sense to those of us looking in from the outside, but they know what they’re doing and they do it efficiently as a team.
Blue and red flashing lights cast swathes of light and shadow across the whole scene, people yell instructions over the sound of the chopper, David is being zipped into a black body bag, Max and Moira help Bill out of the house and I stand here. Frozen. Wishing I could un-see it all. Wishing that I never left our bed this morning. Wishing that the last words I said to Katie weren’t huffed in exasperation through a goddam door.
If I had just stayed with her today, none of this would be happening right now. Bill wouldn’t be injured and Katie wouldn’t be fighting for her life and being slid into the back of a helicopter, poised to take her to an intensive care unit nearly two hundred miles away.
I start to walk towards the chopper when one of the medics stops me from climbing in beside her.
“Are you family?” he shouts to be heard.
For a fraction of a second, I think about this. If I say no, they won’t let me go with her or allow me to see her once she’s in intensive care. She has no other family to the extent that Maddie is probably her emergency contact, but she’s my girlfriend, the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. That is if we get to have a life together.
“Yes,” I answer, “She’s my fiancée.” It’s an almost truth. If Katie makes it through this and will have me, she will be my fiancée. If I get to hold her in my arms again, I’m grabbing hold of that opportunity with both hands in a death grip and never letting go.
The medic looks apologetically at me, placing a hand on my shoulder and gripping reassuringly. “I’m sorry,” he says sincerely, “there’s not enough space to take you with us.”
I balk at his words as if they were a physical blow to my stomach, confusion clouding me. “I don’t understand.”
“We don’t have the space for another person on board; our main chopper has a fault so we’ve had to use our smaller bird, leaving us no space for passengers. I really am sorry. I know it’s a long drive to Denver but I promise you she’s stable. I’ll notify the hospital that you’re on your way and by the time you get there, they’ll have done scans and tests and have a better idea of what we’re dealing with.”
“Or she could die mid-flight,” I bite out.
I see it the moment he admits I’m right. There’s a sad resignation in his eyes. “It’s unlikely but I can’t promise you it’s not a possibility.”
“Let me say goodbye,” I’m begging at this point.
He nods and I climb into the cramped cabin. He wasn’t lying, with all their equipment and Katie laid out on a stretcher, there’s barely any room for the medic who just let me in.
“We can’t hang around,” the pilot calls over his shoulder, “take a moment but then we need you to get out and stand back from the rota blades so we can get airborne.”
I nod and look at Katie, willing her to wake up with my eyes. Not even trying to fight back the sting of tears threatening the backs of my eyes. Stroking a blond wave of hair from her cool, bruised skin, I lean close and whisper in her ear.
“I love you, Sunshine. Don’t leave me. It’s not your time. I’m here, waiting for you, so don’t you dare go towards any fuckin’ bright lights.” I press a gentle kiss to her cheek and climb out of the chopper, allowing the medic to climb in so they can take off. He looks me straight in the eye, a silent promise that he has my woman and he’ll take care of her.
In a vortex of wind and dust, they take off and speed into the darkened sky, taking my heart with them and leaving me an empty, broken shell.
Bad shit needs to stop happening to the people I love. I can’t take much more.
“Ash,” Max’s deep voice draws me out of my self-contained misery, “Smith and April are taking Bill to town to get his head checked, Moira’s going with them. The Sheriff and his deputy will wait around for David’s body to be collected and I’m gonna drive us to Denver. Where are the keys to your truck?”
Dix and Max are my closest friends so I know when Max is on and off shift and his shift…it ended hours ago. He shouldn’t be here; firefighters wouldn’t be dispatched for this sort of thing, especially one going off shift.
“You don’t need to do that Max, your day ended hours ago, go home to Lucy.” Lucy being the super adorable girl-next-door turned sex-vixen girlfriend. She totally blew his mind this past winter when he stupidly assumed she was nothing more than a buttoned-up PA with a pretty face. Turns out, all she needed was someone to flip the switch and now he almost can’t keep up with her sexual appetite. Max part-owns the Rock Hard Club with Dix and had the biggest smug face the first time he paraded his new girlfriend there; they’ve been going strong ever since.
“I called her on the way over. She knows and she’d kick my ass if I went home now and left you. Not happening brother, so give me you
r goddam car keys.”
“How did you know?”
“The call came in as I was heading out. I wasn’t about to ignore an emergency on your ranch so I turned around and hitched a ride out. April drives like a fuckin’ beast so we made good time.”
“So, Lucy is okay with you being gone all night? It’s not just a little drive down the road and I appreciate the offer but you must be exhausted from workin’ all day and if you come with me, you’ll be up all night.”
“I’ve done plenty worse Ash. I’m not on shift for a few days now so I can rest up later. Lucy is fine with it and most importantly, you are my friend. I’m not leaving you alone in this.”
“Thank you, but I’m drivin’,” I all but grunt. Max raises an are-you-serious eyebrow and despite the bone-deep weariness, I need to drive. “If you drive, I’ll have the entire trip to mull over the worse-case scenarios. If I drive, at least I’ll be focused on somethin’.
He holds up his hands in surrender and we start walking towards the house and my truck but are intercepted by Detective Jones. I know I have to talk to him but I really want to get on the road; I have somewhere far more important to be.
“Mr. Scott?” I stop in my tracks, sigh and turn to face him. “I’m sorry we aren’t meeting under better circumstances,” he holds out his hand for me to shake.
“No offense but I can’t think of many circumstances where it would be a pleasure to meet you,” sounds harsh but it’s true. He’s a detective working a homicide investigation, who also happened to work my girlfriend’s assault case. He was never going to be someone I wanted to meet because when people like him show up, terrible shit has gone down.
“I suppose that’s true,” he smiles, but it’s tired and doesn’t reach his eyes and his graying hair looks like he’s run his hands through it and pulled a few too many times. I probably look the same, minus the gray hair. “There are a few things I need to handle here and then I’ll be making my way to Denver. When you’re ready, I need to take your statement. A forensic specialist will also be brought in to photograph Katie’s injuries and collect samples. I know you don’t want to hear this but I still have to present all the evidence, even though David Marks is dead. I hope you understand?” He places his hand on my shoulder in that protective, fatherly way, which just compounds how weak and helpless I feel.
I nod once, “I’ll see you in Denver, Detective.”
Chapter Sixteen
Asher
Max and I speed away from the carnage on my hillside, leaving the flashing lights and dead body in our wake of dust and exhaust.
One of the many knots in my chest loosens at the knowledge I’m on my way and will be with Katie again soon. It’s not much in the way of relief, but I’ll take what small comforts I can get. Not knowing how she is or if she’s even alive is crushing my frantic heart. My pulse pounds and I don’t feel like I can breathe; like I have a thousand-pound weight squeezing my chest and constricting the function of all my vital organs.
Max looks sideways at me. I know his expressions and this one says dude you should totally be letting me drive right now. I glare back, a look that’s somewhere between don’t fuck with me and I promise not to drive us off the road and kill you. It’s the best I can do currently. Max wisely decides to call Dix – who I found out was tasked with protecting Maddie – and I listen as the call connects over the truck’s speakers. Apparently, I was right about Maddie being Katie’s emergency contact as she’s on the phone to the hospital at the same time Dix talks to us.
“We’ll get on the road shortly and meet you at the hospital,” Dix confirms. It will be good to have my friends with me as I brace myself for what’s to come. All of my muscles are tense, coiled and ready to snap while my stomach has a tentative grip on its contents. I’ve never been scared sick in my life, but I sure as hell am now.
The drive to Denver drags despite the light traffic of a Sunday night and my inability to stick to the speed limit. It’s too dark to appreciate any of the spectacular Colorado scenery, not that it would register much through my anguish. I’m good at schooling my features but Max knows me better than most and can sense my turmoil. He doesn’t try to fill the painful drive with idle chatter – what would he talk about, how great his life is with Lucy? No, my friend is wise enough to sit in my darkness with me and knows that just being there brings me more comfort than I can tell him. Max was never one for dragging you to where he thought you should be physically or emotionally, he’s brave enough to stand with you wherever you are. That’s probably what makes him the great firefighter he is; he’s not afraid to stand tall in the painful places where others can’t help but fall.
After what feels like forever, the hospital comes into view.
“Pull up out front and I’ll park the truck while you go and find Katie,” Max instructs me. I’m not going to argue; this means I don’t have to waste any more time. As soon as the truck comes to stop, I jump out and bolt towards the automatic doors of the ER, Max calling that he’ll catch up.
I can barely breathe to talk to the secretary at the nurse’s station my chest is so tight.
I can’t lose her.
I. Just. Can’t.
It’s all I can think. Katie deserves to live out her days surrounded by the people who love her and I don’t want to be alone again. I can’t face it. She’s my person. The one your soul recognizes as your kind of crazy. She’s can’t be gone. I can’t bury another person I love. Please, God. Don’t make me.
“She’s been admitted to the ICU, fourth floor.” I think I manage to thank the woman as I bolt for the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator. Each heavy, punishing footstep echoing around me as I race upwards.
I fly through the door on the fourth floor like a man possessed and sprint my way to another nurse’s station. An older nurse smiles at me expectantly as I skid to a halt in front of her.
“You must be Mr. Scott? Miss Morgan’s fiancé? Follow me, she’s in room six. Doctor Peterson is with her now.” I relax a fraction at the nurse’s use of Katie’s name in the present tense. She’s not dead. My angel managed to hang on.
I mutely follow the nurse down a pale green corridor, scared shitless of how I’m going to find Katie on the other side of the door to room six. The smell of antibacterial strong in the air, shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor.
Following the matronly nurse into Katie’s room, my senses are assaulted by the bleeping and hissing of machines and the sheer number of things she’s attached to. Needles pierce her, sensors attached to heartrate monitors are stuck to her skin. Tubes come out of her mouth and nose as another machine breathes for her. Something with a red light is clipped to one of her fingers and I glimpse a small tube snaking its way out of the blankets and into a catheter bag. In the harsh light of the hospital room, I can see just how badly David hurt her. Katie looks like she went ten rounds with a heavyweight boxer and lost. She couldn’t have looked worse if Antony Joshua tied her up and used her as his punching bag. She looks horrific. There’s barely a patch of lightly tanned skin that isn’t black or that violent purple-blue color of fresh bruises. Most of the marks are swollen and tinged with crimson where her flesh had bled beneath her beautiful skin. Where she’s unmarked, Katie is a pale, sickly gray color. Only a shade or two warmer than the color of a corpse.
Christ. At that moment I’m beaten. I’ve no more strength left. My knees feel weak and wobbly before they collapse out from under me and I slump to the floor, salty wetness trickling down my cheeks.
I’m not ashamed to show weakness and I couldn’t give two fucks about people seeing me cry. This is not the moment for false male bravado. It’s okay not to be okay and I’m very fuckin’ far from okay.
From behind me, two firm hands help pick me up and I’m guided forwards to a chair by Katie’s side. Max.
He looks to the doctor and asks for his prognosis of her injuries. I take Katie’s cool hand in mine, carefully avoiding the cannula and the IV tubes connected to i
t, while I listen to Doctor Peterson talk about the tests, x-rays, and scans they did while we were driving here. The medic didn’t lie and apparently, Katie was stable for the entire flight.
“Why is she still unconscious?” My voice feels tight and sounds hoarse.
“It’s a medically induced coma. Her windpipe was crushed enough to cause her esophagus to swell, so we’re keeping her intubated until this swelling goes down. It’s less of a strain on her recovering body if we keep her in a coma and breathe for her, especially with the number of cracked ribs she has. Given the severity of the bruising, I’m surprised there isn’t more internal damage. But there’s no trauma to any vital organs and her ribs, although fractured, have not broken completely. Katie did sustain a head injury and had her oxygen supply restricted, so while there’s no obvious brain injury on the scans we’ve done, we can’t rule out brain damage. We’ll know more when she wakes up. Her vitals are improving and promising; if she keeps up this level of progress, we may look to bring her out of the coma on Tuesday. That’s subject to change and while we’ll do everything we can for her, Katie’s recovery is in her hands for the moment.” With that, Doctor Peterson addresses the nurse and reals off a different language of required tests, vital monitoring, and drug prescriptions. He then pulls some of the blankets away from Katie’s legs to assess the wound in her foot. The nurse brings him a tray of injections, suturing equipment, and sterilized gauze while he situates himself on a wheeled circular stool and positions himself at eye level with Katie’s injury and unwraps her foot from a bloodied bandage.
“I’ll go raid some vending machines for snacks,” Max announces and quietly leaves the room. We didn’t stop for food on the way and although I’ve lost my appetite, Max is probably starving after a long day.
