Yearn

by A. D. Ellis

  “I don’t smell alcohol,” I said. “Her heartrate is elevated, but she doesn’t present as inebriated.”

  The lady laughed loudly. “Ineeeeebriated. That’s a funny word.” Her words were sluggish, but not slurred. She tried again to lift her arm and take a piece of cake from the nearby plate, but she got distracted and stared as if mesmerized by the uncoordinated movement of her limb. “Just wanna eat cake,” she said slowly while continuing to watch her arm move through the air. “Sooooo hungry. Sooooo sleepy. I wanna eat a nap,” she said and dissolved into a fit of giggles.

  “Does she use drugs? Recreationally or prescription?” Dre asked.

  “No, never. I guess we probably both smoked some pot as teens, but nothing as adults.”

  “Oh, nice,” the son grumbled. “So, you can do it, but I can’t. So lame.” He launched himself from the couch and headed out of the room. “This is so embarrassing.”

  I narrowed my eyes at the kid’s back as he disappeared and Dre continued asking questions.

  “Does she take any prescriptions? Any herbal supplements?”

  Doing another vital check to assure the patient wasn’t in any immediate danger, I slipped from the room, catching Dre’s eye to let him know I’d be right back.

  I found the kid holding a plastic baggie, frantically digging through a dresser drawer. His wide, panicked eyes turned my way when I walked into his room.

  “What did she take?” I asked, one hundred percent sure that he knew exactly what I was talking about.

  “How the fuck should I…” he started.

  I cocked my head, eyed the baggie, and waited.

  “I don’t know for sure,” he hedged, a look of worry marring his face as he chewed on the corner of his lip.

  Bullshit. “Look, it’s for her safety that we know what she took so we can treat her. What was in the baggie?”

  “There’s no way she would have taken them. She doesn’t do anything bad, she’s like the goodie two-shoes of all goodie two-shoes.” He stared at the baggie.

  “What was in there?”

  “Edibles,” he muttered.

  I took the baggie from the kid. “Thank you. That helps a lot. We can let the hospital know and she’ll be better in no time.”

  “Wait, you aren’t going to tell my dad, are you?” The kid gripped my arm. “Seriously, can you not? He’ll kill me.”

  “It’s best that you tell him before the hospital does.”

  “Will you call the police?” The kid’s voice broke.

  “Look, my job is to get your mom to the hospital. Now that I know what’s causing her change in behavior, I can treat her and deliver her to the ER. What they do from that point is up to them.” I walked into the living room where the patient was chuckling quietly as she moved her fingers in front of her eyes. She had calmed a lot and looked ready to drop to sleep any second. “Ma’am, did you eat any gummies today?” I held the bag in front of her.

  She cackled through a sleepy haze, her droopy eyes bloodshot. “I love gummies. Scott was hiding candy in his room so I ate them all because he didn’t put away his laundry.” She laughed again, her head dropping to the side.

  “Oh my God,” the son, Scott, muttered. “All of them? Shit.”

  “Scott, what’s going on?” Dad demanded.

  The kid glanced my way and I could tell he’d rather eat glass, but he lifted his chin. “I had edibles in my drawer. Mom must have thought they were candy and ate them. She’s fucking high as a kite.”

  The man looked my way. “She’s high? That’s what’s wrong with her?”

  I shrugged. “It would explain her behavior. We’ll get fluids in her and take her to the ER. They can monitor her until the drugs are out of her system.”

  “Dad, I’m sorry,” Scott began, but his father held up a hand.

  “We’ll discuss it later when your damn mom isn’t fucking stoned from your gummies,” the older man bit out. “You’ll come to the hospital with me.” He turned my way. “Do you tell the police or do I?”

  I shrugged. “No officers came on this call, so I’ll give my report and let it fall on the hospital to report what they feel is necessary.”

  “Okay, we’ll follow you in the car. Thank you for your help.” The man shook our hands and knelt down to talk to his wife, but she was zonked out. “Come on, Scott. Get in the car. And no phone, hand it over.”

  The kid groaned but handed the phone to his father.

  Dre and I loaded our patient up and headed toward the hospital. Once we had her delivered safely and our report given, we climbed back in the rig and busted out laughing.

  “Oh my God, that woman was out of her gourd high. She’s gonna eat the entire cafeteria once she can get her hands to work right,” Dre said as he panted to catch his breath. “Good call on the gummies.”

  “I wouldn’t have figured it out except the kid looked highly suspicious when we brought up drugs and the way he slinked out of the room made me wonder.” I knew we’d need to make sure our report got to the police—despite what I’d told the kid, a minor in possession of edibles meant our mandatory reporter status was in full effect—but I couldn’t help having a little chuckle at the mom thinking she was punishing the kid for laundry and eating his entire bag of gummies. “She’s likely going to be super pissed or have one hell of a story to tell.”

  “That kid’s ass is grass,” Dre said with another laugh. “Damn, I don’t want to come off as uncaring, but calls like that—the ones that end well—are so much easier than sick babies and pregnant women in car wrecks. And don’t even get me started on the kid in the pool.” He shuddered.

  I found myself wanting to wrap him in my arms and hold him through all the bad shit we’d seen. “Hopefully the hard calls slow down a bit. It’s definitely been a week or so of bad.”

  “We’re due for some easy bumps and bruises. Hell, I’d even take another snake or mouse at this point.” Dre pulled the rig into the garage.

  “Don’t go too far. I have no interest in mice. How about snakes or a vat of fried chicken grease? I’m down for those over injured or sick kids any day.”

  “Think we’ll get anything else before end of shift?” Dre asked as we finished with the bus and walked into the station in hopes of finding leftovers.

  “Wrapped up your plates,” someone called from the group watching television.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’d like to say no, but with our recent string of hard calls, who knows.”

  We warmed up our food and joined the others.

  Only about four more hours and we were home-free.

  Of course, based on the way our shifts had gone lately, I wasn’t surprised a couple hours later when our snoozing in recliners was disrupted by a call.

  “Damn, I thought we’d made it,” Dre grumbled as we rushed to the rig.

  “Unresponsive female at 69069 Remington Way,” dispatch crackled over the radio.

  Dre’s eyes shot to mine as he started the engine.

  I knew we should have let dispatch know that was our residence, but I didn’t want to get called off. We’d request backup if needed.

  “Unresponsive female? Bev or Gabby?” Dre’s voice was tight.

  “Or Hadley? But they’d likely indicate a child.” My heart was in my throat. Going into an emergency always held the anxiety and apprehension of the unknown. Knowing the patient was likely either my elderly house mother or younger sister was an added layer that fueled my nerves.

  “Fuck,” Dre bit out as he rounded a corner a bit too fast. “Fuck.”

  I reached for his arm and gave a squeeze. “We’ve got this. We’re the best at what we do. Whoever it is, they’re in good hands.”

  Eleven

  Dre

  I’d never once frozen up on the job. I lived for the adrenaline and helping people. I didn’t question my choices, always trusted my gut, and easily fell into a zone when it came to administering emergency services to my patients.

  Until the day I walked
into my home and found Aunt Bev unresponsive on the floor with a nasty gash on her forehead. Time stopped and I froze to the spot, unable to take my eyes from her bleeding head and her colorless lips. Not even Khi’s nudge broke me from the stupor.

  And then he was in my face, gripping my shoulders and shaking me hard. “Dre?” He spoke harshly. “You are the best EMT I’ve ever worked with. We got this. Bev needs us and we’re going to get her fixed up and delivered to the hospital.” He seized my chin and forced my eyes to his. “I can’t do this on my own, come on. I need you.”

  The crystal blue of Khi’s eyes reached me, breaking me free from my frozen haze of fear. I nodded. “I’m good. Let’s go.”

  The whole interaction took less than twenty seconds and then we were on our knees assessing and working on Bev.

  “What happened?” Khi demanded of our friends in the kitchen.

  I vaguely recognized that we were surrounded by Cooper, Spencer, and Logan. I was pretty sure Rai was on shift at the hospital. Cruz was likely at the Wishing Well. Jesse probably had Hadley at home so she wasn’t a witness to her dear Bev being sick.

  “She seemed tired and said she wasn’t feeling well. Didn’t eat much at dinner,” Spencer offered. “Right before it happened, she called up the stairs and then I heard the crash.” He winced and ran a hand through his hair. “I came running down, found her like this, and called 911.”

  “How long from not eating dinner until she fell?” Khi asked.

  “A couple hours?” Logan offered. “I ate dinner and then went to the shelter, but she was in bed with a cup of tea when I came home. I told her goodnight and went upstairs. About thirty minutes later was when I heard the commotion and Spencer hollered for me.”

  Khi administered a quick blood sugar test and winced. “Forty-eight.” He immediately started an IV. “Give me the D10.”

  Handing Khi the dextrose solution, knowing it would help get Bev’s sugar level back to a stable level—at least for a bit—I set to work bandaging the gash on her forehead.

  “What’s going on? What’s wrong with her?” A very teary Cooper stood by, arms wrapped around his middle.

  “Low blood sugar,” Khi answered. “We’ve given her a sugar water solution. We’ll keep her levels stable until she’s at the hospital. They’ll monitor from there.” He glanced around the group. “I feel like I should know this, but is she diabetic?”

  All of us shook our heads.

  “If she is, she never told us. But I’ve never seen any blood sugar testing supplies,” Cooper answered.

  “She’s had a few more doctor appointments than usual lately,” Spencer offered. “I drove her to a couple of them. Didn’t figure it was my place to pry about what was going on and she didn’t offer.”

  Bev stirred to life and my heart finally started beating again.

  “Bev, your blood sugar was dangerously low. You fell and hit your head.” Khi calmly and professionally explained the situation while I couldn’t do anything but hold her hand. “We’ve patched up the cut on your head, but the hospital will get it stitched and watch for concussion symptoms. We’ve given you dextrose to get your sugar up, but the hospital will monitor you and run some tests. Have you had issues with your sugars before?”

  Bev groaned and patted my hand. “I didn’t want to cause a fuss,” she muttered.

  “You’re never a fuss. We need to know these things so we can keep you safe.” I squeezed her hand.

  “The doctor has been on me about my sugars. I ignored him for a while, but I’ve been going to see him for some tests lately. Have an appointment tomorrow to start testing my sugars and giving myself insulin.” She took a long, quivery breath. “It’s all a bit much and I’m not sure I can do it. Don’t want to put any of you out with changes I’ll need to make.”

  “We’ll all gladly make the changes with you,” Logan said as he patted Bev’s arm. “We’d rather make changes and see you healthy.”

  A tear slipped from the corner of Bev’s eye. “I’m sorry for all the trouble. I didn’t feel well and thought I could make it until the appointment tomorrow.” She frowned. “Oh dear, I’ll need to let them know what happened.”

  “You’ll probably be in the hospital until at least tomorrow afternoon, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they keep you a couple days. We’ll call the doctor’s office for you. You can set up another appointment once you’re back home.” Khi nodded to me, indicating we needed to load her on the stretcher. “They’ll send in a dietician and teach you all about your diet and carbs and how to stay healthy. They won’t let you leave until you’re comfortable checking your sugars and giving yourself the insulin.”

  “And they’ll make sure all’s good with your head,” I added as we moved her to the cot and raised it to its full height. “We’ll keep everyone updated, but I’m guessing they’ll treat her head and sugars in the ER and then move her to a room. She can probably have visitors tomorrow, but call first to find out,” I spoke to the guys. “Can you all fill in Dalton and Gabby? Let Cruz, Rai, and Jesse know what’s going on?”

  Cooper nodded. “Jesse’s got Hadley at home. I’ll tell him now.”

  “I’ll call Cruz,” Logan offered.

  “I already texted Rai. When he’s able to check his phone, he’ll call me,” Spencer said. “I called Dalton. He and Gabby are on their way home. I’ll fill them in.”

  Goodbyes and words of love were exchanged as we rolled Bev from the house, carrying the stretcher down the stairs. Once we had our VIP patient loaded up, I drove on autopilot to the hospital.

  We called the station to let them know what was going on and hung out at the hospital a bit longer than was technically necessary. But the ER staff understood Bev wasn’t just any patient. They let us pop our heads in to see her once she was in a room and we left after getting a report from her night nurse.

  It was good to see Bev alert, even though she was tired from the ordeal and feeling embarrassed about all the fuss being made over her. They’d stitched her up in the ER and her sugars were stable for the time being. Bev had some changes to make and things to learn about taking care of herself, but a diagnosis of diabetes wasn’t the end of the world and she had a whole crew ready and willing to take care of her. Hopefully she wouldn’t keep things from us again; knowing she’d been dealing with all of that health information on her own was worrisome and made me feel like an ass for not being there for her.

  By the time we took care of the rig and dragged our asses home, Khi and I were both about to drop. I stood in the middle of our room feeling helpless and unsure of what to do next. Khi stepped close and wrapped me in his arms. “Come shower with me?”

  Not even caring that others were home, I nodded silently and let him lead me to the bathroom. It only took about sixty seconds of the hot water flowing over me and Khi’s hands roaming up and down my back before shuddering sobs wracked my body.

  “Shhhh, it’s okay. She’s good. We did exactly what we’re trained to do and she’s going to be fine,” Khi murmured at my ear.

  He held me while I cried myself out. Aunt Bev was the only family I had that didn’t find me disgusting; she loved me, accepted me, and wanted me in her life. I couldn’t lose her. After the cathartic release and symbolic washing away of the overwhelming feelings, we climbed from the shower and made our way to the bedroom.

  Without dressing and not allowing myself to give the situation too much thought, I pulled Khi down onto my bed and let him hold me.

  “Thanks for today,” I mumbled. “Seeing her like that scared the shit out of me and I froze. I’ve never done that before, not even with cases much more severe. I just…”

  “Shhhh, it’s okay. I think it’s understandable. We’ve had a lot of stressful, shitty calls and seeing your family member sick and bleeding is enough to freeze anyone up.” Khi kept up a continuous soft rubbing up and down my back.

  “You didn’t freeze,” I said.

  “Not today, but my day will come. And you’ll be the
re to get me focused back on the job.” Khi brushed a kiss over my temple.

  I rocked my hips against his and trailed my fingers down to gently stroke his cock as I leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to his warm lips.

  “You’re exhausted,” Khi hedged, but his dick hardened in my hand despite his protest.

  “I am,” I agreed, “but I also need this. Need to break out of my own head, even if just for a little bit.”

  “Can you be quiet?” Khi murmured against my lips.

  I nodded and rolled to my back, pulling him on top of me.

  Khi reached for the bedside drawer and pulled out lube and a condom. After placing them on the corner of the bed, he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me. His tongue plunged deep, tasting and teasing, as he thrust his dick against mine.

  When our cocks were leaking, I tore away from the kiss, breathless. Spreading my legs, I grasped behind my knees. “Please. Need you.”

  Khi shifted to tongue my ass for a few moments before slicking his fingers with lube and working me open. Once he had me writhing under him, Khi rolled on the condom and knelt between my spread legs. Pressing the swollen head of his cock against my hole, he eased into me inch-by-glorious-inch.

  The stretch and fullness were exactly what I needed to get out of my head after the stress of our last several calls. When Khi leaned close, plastering his chest against mine and wrapping his arms under my body to grip my shoulders while he thrust hard and deep, I nearly lost my mind. Every slide into my body had his cock teasing the bundle of nerves and sending electric currents of pleasure through me.

  I moaned, but Khi captured my mouth in a soul-searing kiss to keep my noises at bay. I’d never had sex in such an intimate position and the connection scorched through me, making me want every single bit of whatever Khi was willing to give me.

  As his cock stimulated my gland with each pass and our bodies pressed friction against my leaking shaft, I knew it wouldn’t be long before I lost any semblance of control.