by Katie Meyer
Blood?
Oh hell, she was bleeding. The bastard had gotten her. Hitting the ground hard he yanked her shirt from her pants and started unbuttoning it from the bottom, searching for the wound. He needed to find it and stop the bleeding, ASAP. Who knew how long it would take the paramedics to get out to this stretch of beach road.
Jessica batted at his hands. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She shoved at his chest. “Get back, or I swear, I’ll knock you down too.”
“I need to find out where he cut you.”
“What?” She looked down at herself in confusion. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” Hell, that wasn’t the right thing to say. He needed her to stay calm. “I mean, I’m sure you will be. But you’re bleeding.” He’d heard that in the moment adrenaline could mask the pain of an injury. She must be going into shock. He peeled the red stained fabric away from her flat stomach desperate now to find the source of all that blood. Naturally bronzed skin peeked out, skin he’d explored under much different circumstances less than two months ago. He found smears of blood, but no wound.
Jessica grabbed the edges of the fabric and yanked them closed. “That’s not my blood, you idiot.”
“What?” Confused, his fingers stopped of their own accord.
“I said, it’s NOT. MY. BLOOD.” She shoved against the body of her attacker next to her, grunting as she strained to roll Bill onto his back. “The jerk fell on his own damn weapon.”
Ryan lent his own strength to the effort, and sure enough, the perp’s shirt was dark with blood, a tear revealing the ragged edges of flesh that had been ravaged by the broken bottle he’d wielded. It was a gruesome wound, but as horrified as Ryan knew he should be, all he could feel was relief that it wasn’t Jessica’s insides spilling out.
“Sorry, I thought he’d gotten you,” Ryan offered in apology. Turning back to her, he expected to see her buttoning her shirt and looking annoyed.
Instead, her skin was white, her eyes glassy where they focused on the blood and gore coming from her attacker.
“Jessica, are you okay?” Maybe she’d been nicked after all.
She blinked once, and then her eyes rolled back in her head as her body fell forward into his arms.
Chapter Three
It was the sirens that woke her, wailing their way into her half-conscious mind. Was that her alarm clock? But that didn’t seem right.
Gradually she became aware of someone talking to her, but the words were garbled, as if the person was speaking from very far away, or under water. Whatever they were saying, she wanted them to go away. She didn’t want to wake up, not yet.
“Jessica! Wake up, come on baby, I need you to wake up.”
He was shaking her now, whoever he was. Annoyed, she summoned the strength to open first one eye, then the other. “Ryan?” Was she dreaming about him again? Ever since their night together she’d had the most erotic dreams about him, ones that left her hot and flushed when she woke. She blinked, and realized there was a crowd around them. That definitely wasn’t part of her fantasies.
Which meant this was real.
She struggled to free herself from his arms as she fought a rush of nausea.
“Easy there, champ. The paramedics are on their way. Just hold still another minute for me.”
Paramedics? What the hell was going on? She pulled away just a few inches, more carefully this time, needing to see what was going on—no easy feat given the way everything was spinning. Or was she the one spinning? “What happened?”
“You passed out. You must have hit your head when that oaf fell on you.”
She thought back, remembering the call, the man with bottle. She’d taken him down. But she hadn’t hit her head. Had she? She gingerly moved it.
No more dizziness, and when she ran a hand through her hair there were no tender spots. “Nothing hurts.”
“Yeah, well, let’s let the medics decide that.”
“Seriously, you shouldn’t have called them. I’m fine.” Glancing down, she hastily rebuttoned her ruined shirt, hoping he didn’t see the way her hands shook.
“Like I said, you passed out. That’s not fine. Besides, I had to called them for him, anyway.”
She darted a look over at the man lying beside her and her stomach lurched. Crap, that’s why she’d fainted. She hadn’t hit her head, she’d gone down at the sight of his injury. Fainting when faced with blood. That wasn’t going to do her reputation any favors. Averting her gaze, she focused on the steps, where white-uniformed medics where carrying a stretcher toward them.
“Take him, I’m fine.” To prove it, she shoved to her feet, nearly toppling over at the sudden movement. Ryan gripped her shoulder and glared at her before addressing the medical team. “She’s going to the hospital too. She lost consciousness after that moron fell on top of her. She could have a concussion or something.”
“I’m telling you, my head is fine. It’s probably just low blood sugar. I was busy today and didn’t get a chance to eat dinner before starting my shift.” Truth was, first-day nerves meant she’d been too nauseated to eat the spicy bean dish her mom had made for her, but she couldn’t admit that in front of Ryan. She’d already proven herself weak enough to faint, no need to add to the stigma by confessing to anxiety, as well.
“And if that’s the case, I’m sure they can give you something to eat when you get to the hospital. But you’re going if I have to cuff you to the ambulance.” His tone was even, but firm.
“You could try, but as I think I’ve shown, big men don’t scare me.”
His mouth quirked up in a wry grin. “So I saw. And once the docs clear you, I’m going to have you teach me whatever magic you used to flip that guy.”
“That wasn’t magic, it was aikido. I started taking lessons when I was thirteen and a high school basketball player tried to pull me into his car for a bit of one-on-one.” She grinned. “Turned out he needed to learn how to guard his balls a bit better. But I knew it might not be that easy to get away from the next guy, so I found an instructor, and learned to protect myself.”
“And you did a damn good job of it.”
She grimaced. “Yeah, but momentum and leverage can only do so much. I’ll have a few bruises in the morning.”
“They can check those out at the hospital too.” He raised a hand, stalling the argument she’d been about to make. “Forget about it, Santiago. You’re not going to change my mind. If nothing else, there is going to be an incident report. The higher-ups will want documentation that you are fit to return to duty.”
Crap, he was right. If she tried to get out of it now, she’d just end up having to see a doctor tomorrow. Might as well get it over with. “Okay. But no ambulance.” There was no way she was going to let herself be strapped in next to a guy whose insides were now on the outside. Normally she wasn’t squeamish, but today seemed to be an exception.
Ryan must have realized he’d pushed her as far as he could, because he gave a reluctant nod. “Fine, if the paramedics say you can wait I’ll drive you over myself, after I get the witness statements.”
“I can help with the statements,” she insisted, her stubborn streak rising up.
“And have the DA contest them later, saying the officer doing the questioning was unfit for duty? I don’t think so.”
“Fine.” Frustrated with him, herself and the drunken fool who’d started the whole thing, she stalked over to an empty table and sat down to wait for the medics to check her over. How the heck was she going to prove herself to the department when her first shift ended up with her on the sidelines, watching the action?
* * *
Ryan tried to be patient as he dealt with the scared patrons who had witnessed the scene, but all he really wanted was to be by Jessica’s side. She’d taken a hard hit, and despite her protests that she was fine, he was go
ing to worry until a medical professional gave her the all clear. Seeing her pass out had rattled him more than any bad guy could. And yet now he was dealing with the grunt work while a team of medics hovered over her. Keeping one eye on them, and her, he tried to record every detail the woman in front of him was offering.
“He must have been sitting at the bar when we got here, because I don’t remember him coming in. Of course, why would I? I was so busy telling Fred here about the deal I got on my new watch.” She waved her wrist under his nose, as if somehow seeing the timepiece would clear everything up. Thankfully her husband, the aforementioned Fred, had been a bit more to the point with his statement. “But anyway, one minute I’m explaining about the percent off, and the extra coupons I had, and the next minute that man was pushing past our table, yelling about some lady named Doreen.” She shook her head. “I think he was drunk. No good comes of strong drink, that’s what my daddy told me. He was a preacher you know.”
Ryan did know, because she’d mentioned it already. Along with the profession of her husband, where she’d gone to school and what she’d thought of her fish sandwich—too dry. “Did you see him attack the other deputy, ma’am?”
“Oh, no. I didn’t see that, I’m afraid. I was facing Fred, and letting him know what I thought of men who drink. Thankfully Fred has never touched a drop.”
Fred must be a saint, to deal with his wife’s endlessly wagging tongue totally sober. Ryan was at the point of wanting a shot of something himself after listening to her go off on a half-dozen tangents. At least now that she’d admitted to not seeing the incident he could finish the interview. He’d gotten plenty of information from her husband, as well as from a few of the other patrons and a very shaken up waitress.
Across the dining area the paramedics were finishing up with Jessica. He wanted to hear what they said for himself—no doubt she’d minimize any possible injuries in an attempt to act tough.
No, he corrected himself. Her toughness wasn’t an act, it was who she was. She’d proven that when she took on an armed man twice her size.
Handing the witness his card he strode over to where the medics were packing up their equipment. “How is she?”
“Her reflexes are good, and her pupils are reactive and even, but her blood pressure’s lower than it should be, especially given all the excitement. Could be nothing, but she needs to go in ASAP to rule out internal bleeding.”
“Seriously?” Jessica frowned. “Couldn’t the low blood pressure just be from not eating?”
The medic shrugged. “Maybe. But it could also be dropping because you’re hemorrhaging internally. That dude was big, and if he knocked into your spleen just right he could have damaged it. A CT scan can tell for sure.”
“She’ll get the scan right away,” Ryan assured him. Hell, had she been sitting here, bleeding internally, while he was over there interviewing Mrs. Talks Too Much?
“Good. As soon as the ambulance gets back we’ll take her straight over to the hospital.” Catching Jessica’s angry look he added, “If that’s okay with you, ma’am.”
“Fine.” Her shoulders slumped in resignation.
“Wait, what do you mean, she needs to wait for the ambulance? Isn’t it down in the parking lot? You rode in on it.”
“The other guy’s condition was critical. He couldn’t wait, and at the time your partner here was still saying she didn’t need medical attention. So they took him in and I stayed behind to check her over. They’re sending the other unit, or if that one is already busy they’ll bring the first one back after they unload.”
Forget that. He wasn’t going to wait however long that was going to take. “I’ll drive her myself.”
Jessica looked up, startled. “What about the witness statements?”
“I got what I need.” This wasn’t the movies where no one could leave until they had all spoken to a cop; the statements he’d gotten would have to do. He wasn’t going to let her bleed to death for the sake of one more person’s eyewitness account.
As if realizing she wasn’t going to win this one, she got up and followed him, only glaring when he took her arm to help her down the stairs. Thankfully she didn’t protest beyond that.
At the bottom he held out his hand for the keys, and he considered it a sign of how shaken she was that she handed them over without argument. But the cooperation didn’t last long. They were barely onto the main road when she gave him a hopeful look.
“I don’t suppose I could convince you to just take me home, huh? Forget all this happened?”
“No.” His lips tightened as he pressed the gas pedal down further.
“I didn’t think so.” She slouched against the door, arms tucked around herself. “I really do feel fine now.”
“I’m happy to hear it. And I’ll be even happier when someone with a medical degree agrees.” He already felt guilty about their one-night stand, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he took her home when she needed medical attention. His conscience could only handle so much.
* * *
Hospitals always smelled the same, like fear and antiseptic. Jessica tried to breathe through her mouth to avoid the harsh scent that was upsetting her stomach all over again.
“You okay? Are you feeling short of breath?” Ryan looked at her with concern edging on panic. “Maybe I should go get the nurse.”
Jessica sighed and went back to breathing through her nose. This was bad enough without Ryan hovering over her. “I’m fine. But I think I’d rather be alone right now.”
“Are you sure? If you have a head injury it would be better if you have someone with you.”
“Ryan, I don’t have a head injury. And any minute now they may need me to undress to get in one of those stupid hospital gowns, and I’d rather not have an audience.” Even if he’d seen her in less before. Something she couldn’t think about right now.
“Fine. I’ll be right in the waiting room, if you need me.”
“You don’t need to do that. I’ll be all right, and I can call someone to pick me up when they’re done poking and prodding.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’ll be in the waiting room.”
“Fine. Suit yourself.” At least he’d be out of her hair. And really, she didn’t want to have to call her mom or brother to pick her up—it would mean having to admit she’d been injured her very first night as a deputy. Her mother would worry herself to death and her brother would say I told you so, and she’d never live any of it down. Better Ryan’s version of overprotective than theirs.
Once he left she settled back onto the single chair in the curtained-off area they’d stuck her in. She was probably supposed to be on the hospital bed, but that would mean acknowledging she was a patient. No thank you. She’d sit in a chair until they told her otherwise.
“Miss?” A tall woman with gray hair cut in a stylish bob stepped in, her scrubs marking her as one of the medical staff. “I’m Elsie, one of the nurses. How are you feeling?”
Jessica found herself smiling despite herself. The nurse gave off a vibe of compassion and kindness that was hard to resist. Or maybe her defenses were just weak after the last hour. “I’m feeling fine, really. I’d just like to get this over with so I can leave.”
“Well, I’ll do my best to make things quick. You came on a good night. Other than the man who attacked you we haven’t had a lot of activity.”
“You heard about that, huh?”
“Oh, yes. Everyone’s talking about the brave young woman who single-handedly saved Pete’s Crab Shack from an angry drunk. You’re something of the hero.”
Jessica winced. She’d hoped to hide the whole debacle from her family, but if Elsie was right about how quickly word was spreading, then the story would be all over town before the sun was up. And although the nurse might think she was a hero, she doubted her brother or the rest of the department would see
it that way. After all, heroes didn’t pass out and end up in the emergency room.
Nothing to be done about it now, other than submit to yet another series of questions about her health—good, her eating habits—not so good, her menstrual cycle—irregular, and any previous surgeries—none. Then she’d been asked to change into one of those horrid gowns, and escorted down the hall where she dutifully peed in a cup. No doubt they would check her urine for drugs. That was standard with work-related accidents, wasn’t it? No worries there, she didn’t even like the way cold medicine made her feel, let alone anything stronger.
Finally, after giving what seemed like most of her blood for whatever lab tests they needed to run, a doctor came in. Middle-aged, with weathered skin that spoke of some kind of outdoor hobby, he had her climb up on the dreaded hospital bed for an exam. After finding every sore spot and bruise with his deft fingers he shined a light in her eyes, thumped on her knees and left, promising to be back with results as soon as he could.
Alone at last, she tried to concentrate on a plan to repair her reputation in the department. She’d spent her time at the academy learning to project a strong, cool, confident persona, and now she was going to be the girl who fainted at the sight of blood. Which made no sense, because she’d never been bothered by that kind of thing before. It had to just be the stress about the first day on a new job, and the lack of food in her system. But that wouldn’t matter to those looking for a reason to discredit a woman in law enforcement.
At least thinking about her job problems was better than worrying about the possibility of internal bleeding. She didn’t feel like she was hemorrhaging anywhere, but how would she know? Did a spleen injury hurt, like a cut finger, or would she just get weaker and weaker until she passed out again, maybe for good this time? A shiver of fear wormed its way in, making her wish she hadn’t been left quite so alone. Maybe she should call her brother after all. He’d yell at her, but fighting with him beat sitting around with nothing to do but worry about dying.