Man cave, p.20
Man Cave, page 20
The impact was instantaneous, then the world went black.
58
THEO
* * *
The waitress came by, sat a glass of ice water on a coaster in front of me.
“She gave what back to you?” Mac asked.
“Mallory. I bought her a house and she returned it. Like a pair of socks she bought in the wrong size at the store,” I explained on a grumble.
Mac’s mouth opened and a piece of bun fell out and onto his plate. “You bought Mallory a house?”
I nodded.
He grinned. “Congrats!”
I frowned again. “Why?”
“Because she’s great and you need someone who’s all sunshiny for your grumpy ass.”
“We’re not together.”
He frowned. “I know I’m divorced and all which makes me a shit judge of relationships, but what the fuck?”
“It’s just sex.”
The walkie talkies chimed all at once. The crew stood, their chairs scraping across the floor in their haste. Food was set down, radios picked up and the crew practically ran out of the place. Patrons turned to watch as they left. Mac stood but hadn’t moved, listening to the dispatcher give the report of the call.
“MVA, mile marker twenty-six on Highway 5. Head on, car versus truck, multiple injuries.”
Mac looked to me, his gaze laser sharp. “You’re coming along. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”
I hopped up, the familiar hum of an emergency coursing through my veins.
Mac turned to leave and waved to Arlo. He gave a nod and a wave in reply as I followed Mac out onto the street. I assumed that meant they’d settle up for their meals later.
The fire engine was running with the back door open, ready for Mac to hop in. And me.
I followed him in, and I had the door barely closed before the sirens kicked on and we were headed out of town.
Mac slipped on a headset, and I found one at my side and did the same. I could hear dispatch and the crew in my ears. I put on my shoulder harness and listened to the reports coming in from the scene, seconds apart.
“Three injuries.”
“Pickup truck versus small SUV.”
“Older model black Ford F-150 and a white Honda CRV.”
“People stopping to help say two women are unconscious. Unknown if breathing. Trapped.”
I looked to Mac. Over his head, he grabbed a box of gloves and tossed it to me. “Put a bunch of those in your pocket. We’ll have our med kits for you to use but be ready. If they’re trapped, it’ll be like the practice we did with you. Jaws of Life, whatever’s needed.”
“I didn’t see shit under that blanket,” I said as I tugged on the gloves.
“You’ll be on the other side of an emergency again. You good?”
I frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?” The shrill siren was muted by the headphones, but it was a constant reminder that lives were at stake. This wasn’t the ER or the OR. This was truly life or death. There were only so many supplies, only so much that could be done on the side of the road. Even for me, who had a medical degree and tackled traumas day in and day out.
“Because shit’s about to get real.”
I glanced at the rest of the crew in the back. Three others were already geared up and ready to go.
“It’s always real,” I said.
“These are people, fucker.”
I shook my head. “These are victims. We treat them, get them back to their lives.”
The engine slowed and I leaned to the side to see out the window. It turned as it came to a stop, angled so the entire street was blocked, protecting the crew from anyone crazy enough to drive into an accident scene. The crew hopped from the door on the opposite side as I looked out the window. Mac shifted to move, but I grabbed his arm. Pointed.
“That CRV is Mallory’s.” The one that was upside down and half under the pickup truck and wedged into the guardrail.
I recognized the sticker on the back windshield, which was shattered.
He looked to me, then at the car out the window.
His face went blank. Intense. “Let’s get to work.”
I followed him, hopping down from the high seats. His crew had split up to assess the situation. One was standing in the open door of the truck, talking to the driver. Another handed off an oxygen mask and they put it over his mouth and nose. One victim was conscious and breathing.
Another firefighter was kneeling on the ground at the back of the CRV, checking for stability since it was upside down. Two others were testing the doors and trying to figure out how to gain access. It was clear the driver door was crushed in. It wasn’t in as bad of shape as the practice car I’d crawled into in the back lot of the fire station, but it was close.
Mac went toward the CRV. I followed but he held me back with his arm.
“You don’t have the gear to get any closer. We need to brace the car, then get them out.”
Shattered glass and flung car parts were strewn across the road. Something was leaking and creeping downhill.
“Is she in there?” I asked, suddenly freaking out.
“It doesn’t matter who is in there. Whoever it is needs our help.”
What? It doesn’t matter? It could be Mallory. MALLORY.
When Mac turned around to start working on the CRV and get the people out–whoever they were–it hit me. Like a big, old F150 on a curving stretch of road.
I felt.
I felt fear.
I felt anger.
I felt helplessness.
I felt worry.
I felt everything because inside that car was Mallory.
The woman who seemed to like me despite the stick up my ass. Despite the fact that I’d never been on a road trip. Or that I had a plane. That I slotted her into my calendar as a daily appointment. I remembered calling patients a quota. That Bridge had kicked me out of her classroom because I couldn’t see why I went to the high school to ask after Mallory.
I did have a stick up my ass. No wonder everyone rolled their eyes at me. Or gave me a look of disappointment. I was one. A big fucking doofus, like Bridge said.
Mac squatted down by the window, peeked in. He turned, looked at me and nodded. I felt because Mallory was inside the destroyed car, and I didn’t know if she was alive or dead.
Mallory, the woman who’d been mine all along and I never knew it.
59
THEO
* * *
I ran over, grabbed the Pulaski took from a firefighter before he could give it to Mac.
“What are you doing?” Mac shouted.
“Mallory’s in there!”
Mac grabbed the ax from me and passed it off, then shoved me out of the way. “Get your shit together. It’s our job to get the patients out. You don’t have the gear or the skill. Get your head on straight.”
I wanted to punch him, but he was right.
The firefighter–I wasn’t paying any attention to who it was–worked the tool into the seam between the driver door and the frame, right by the pin. Another firefighter used his booted foot to kick in the shattered windshield. Another two were doing the same on the other side. All wore thick bunker gear, heavy leather gloves, helmets, and even protective goggles.
I had on latex gloves.
Police cars pulled up along with another fire truck.
A whistle pierced the air and I turned to follow the sound. “Doc, over here!”
I glanced at Mallory’s car again.
“Go do your job.” Mac slapped me on the shoulder, then turned away from me to get to work.
Fuck. FUCK!
Mallory was in that car, and I had to walk away. I had to get my shit together, had to triage, and that meant going where I was called and assessing. I had to wait to help Mallory and whoever else was in the CRV.
I ran over to the firefighter helping the man in the truck. “Fifty-three, wearing his seat belt. BP is one forty over ninety, resps are ninety. Complaining of upper chest pain, most likely a broken clavicle due to seat belt. No allergies to medicines, no drugs or alcohol usage.”
The EMT gave me a thorough report as I assessed the man.
“Pen light?”
The EMT handed me one from the med kit and I flashed it back and forth in front of his face. “What’s your name, sir?”
He pulled the oxygen mask back to answer. “Donald Naimar.”
“Did you hit your head on the steering wheel or windshield?” I asked, feeling his skull as I took in that his car had no airbag.
“No.”
“Doc, I’ll take over here.” I turned and there was one of the paramedics from the Saturday training. “One patient’s about to be pulled from the car and you’ll be needed.”
“Donald, you’re in good hands with these guys.”
I gave him a quick but reassuring smile before I ran for the car, stripping my gloves as I went. I pulled new ones from my pocket–Mac was fucking smart–and saw that it was the passenger who was being placed on a backboard.
“Careful! Grab my purse. I need my cigarettes if you’re taking me in an ambulance.” That was not Mallory.
“Ma’am, please remain as still as possible. You’ve been in a car accident, and we don’t know the extent of your injuries.”
“I don’t hurt. Nothing hurts,” she replied as I made it around the car and squatted down beside her laying on the backboard. I gave her a quick assessment. C-collar on. Conscious, therefore her heart was beating, and she was breathing. Her airway was very clear, and she smelled like a liquor cabinet.
“What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Cheryl.”
“Cheryl, who’s driving the car?”
I peeked in the open doorway, tilting my body to see in. Cheryl said, “My daughter. Mallory,” at the same time I saw her.
Mallory was unconscious, caught in her seatbelt and dangling upside down. Blood dripped from a cut on her temple onto the deflated airbag.
I was pushed out of the way so another rescuer could get into the passenger spot.
I looked to the two EMTs adjusting the straps on the board and placing an oxygen mask over her face.
“She and the man in the truck are both Level 4. Get them both to the ER pronto.”
“On it, Doc.”
I stood, backed up to let the crew work. Cheryl, Mallory’s miserable–and clearly intoxicated–mother was carted off. Not once did she ask after her daughter.
“Breathing!” the woman half in-half out of the upside-down car called.
I sighed, closed my eyes.
I thought of the boy who’d died on my operating table. The one who’d been in a car accident like this one. Who’d been ejected and died.
I didn’t even remember his name.
He was the reason I’d moved to Hunter Valley. Because I’d been numb. Uncaring.
I’d thought quitting and relocating would have changed me.
It didn’t.
Mallory did.
She’d made me see the fun side of things. She was the one who struggled. Suffered. Hurt. Ached. Bled. And I’d never understood. I’d disregarded her feelings, her words. I’d diminished her.
I made her… oh fuck. Nothing.
That’s what I told Verna earlier. That we were nothing.
I grabbed my hair. I made her feel like nothing when she was everything.
“Come on! What’s taking so long?” I shouted.
No one paid me any attention. Everyone was busy doing their jobs and I was standing around with my thumb up my ass.
“C-collar on. Board!”
A backboard was produced and worked into the car through the open passenger door. The straps were rolled up at the sides, ready.
“Cutting the seatbelt on three.” It was Mac calling from the other side. “One. Two. Three!”
Everyone shifted, and I couldn’t see a fucking thing.
Five, then ten seconds passed and then the board was slid out.
“Doc!”
I ran over, dropped to my knees.
“O2. Vitals. Get her strapped down and I want her out of here in thirty. I’ll assess on the way to the ER.”
I ran my hands over her as the straps were put across her, securing her to the board. I lifted the hem of her shirt–the one I recognized her wearing earlier–to look for signs of bruising, felt for possible internal bleeding.
“Ready.”
I stood and moved back out of the way.
“On three.” The firefighters hoisted her in unison and hustled her to the back of the waiting ambulance.
I slid onto the bench beside her, the paramedic at my side. Mac stood between the open back doors, and he gave me a smile. I tipped my chin, then he slammed the doors shut. I heard the slap on the side of the rig and we were off.
I was back in trauma surgeon mode, and this was one patient whose name I knew.
She wouldn’t be a fucking quota, like I told Verna. She was mine. I was going to make her mine, tell her what she meant to me. How much of a dumbass I was.
If she lived.
60
MALLORY
* * *
I woke up to beeping. And the strong smell of cleaning supplies. And a wicked headache.
“Easy.”
I blinked my eyes open, turned toward the voice. The one I recognized and was oh-so-soft. Like a gentle whisper.
I felt a hand in mine, a thumb brushing over my palm.
“Theo.”
He sat beside the bed, leaning toward me. His gaze raked over my face, but I didn’t see any of his usual tenseness. Or anger. Or lust. Or any other emotion I was used to from him.
Now, all I saw was tenderness.
“There’s my tiger. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”
“What… what happened?” I was in a hospital room, hooked up to monitors and an IV.
“What do you remember?”
I closed my eyes, thought back. “Oh. There was an accident.”
“Yes.”
I turned my head, looked to Theo, whose eyes seemed haunted. I’d never seen him look this way before. “I hit someone.”
He shook his head. “Someone hit you. Took a curve too wide.”
“Are they okay?”
He offered a small smile. “Yes. He’s got a broken collar bone, but he’s on good pain meds and is happily letting his wife take care of him.”
“And Cheryl?” We’d been arguing. I’d been so angry I’d turned around to take her home. To literally get rid of her.
He clenched his jaw and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “Not a scratch on her.”
Of course not. “She’d been drinking.”
Theo nodded. “Yes. Intoxicated people have slow reaction times. They don’t tense up before an accident. Helps them from getting hurt.”
“Is she–”
“Hunter, you remember him?” Theo arched a brow and gave me a soft smile. Yeah, a smile. “He took her home.”
So she wasn’t here at the hospital waiting for me to wake up. I didn’t ask if she worried about me. I didn’t want to know. I made it clear she was out of my life now and I meant it. The fact that she’d left…
“What are you doing here?” I asked. It didn’t make any sense why he might be by my bedside holding my hand.
“I was with Mac when the call came in. I was there when they pulled you out of the car.”
I frowned. “Was I operated on?” I didn’t feel hurt other than a headache.
“No. I checked you over in the back of the ambulance, then handed you off to the ER team. Do you have a headache?” he wondered.
It pulsed. Throbbed. Ached. Like I’d gone through a blender. “Yeah.”
“You hit the airbag pretty hard, then something else when the car flipped.”
“The car flipped?” I had no idea.
Theo looked grim. Bleak even.
“Now that you’re awake, you’ll be checked for a concussion, but it’s pretty much a given,” he explained.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You’re awake!” Bridget said, coming into the room.
“Shh,” I said.
Mav followed behind her but remained quiet.
“You scared the shit out of me,” Bridge whispered, leaning in to give me a gentle hug. She took in Theo holding my hand but said nothing about it.
I didn’t know what it meant and I was too out of it to process.
“Well, the doctor says you’re spending the night for observation, then you’re staying with me for a few days.”
I swallowed, but my mouth was so dry. “I’m not staying at your house. You guys have too much sex.”
“Fine, then I’ll stay with you at the house. It’ll be like a sleepover when we were kids. Lindy heard about the accident and is on her way.”
I glanced at Theo, remembering the last sleepover I had there with him. No more though. I was thankful he’d been there to help, but his medical skills–or any other talents he had–weren’t needed any longer. “Thanks again, Theo. I’ll… see you around.”
He was a doctor, and he was checking on a patient. It was required. He’d made an oath or something. He’d looked after Cheryl, too.
I was fine or would be. Bridge was here and she was going to mother the hell out of me. Lindy, too.
After what I went through with Cheryl, it sounded great.
“Mallory, I…” Theo said.
“I’m good. Thanks for doctoring me.”
Realizing he was dismissed–it wasn’t like we were anything since he made that crystal clear–he stood. “Right. Um… bye.”
I watched him leave and wondered if I was ever going to get over him. While he felt nothing for me, I felt so much. I wondered if it was more than my head splitting in two. It felt like my heart was too.
61
THEO
* * *
I startled awake when I felt breathing on my neck. I turned my head and got a whiff of dog breath, then got a tongue lick.
“Fuck, Scout,” I said, wiping my face. He jumped to the floor and barked.
