by Unknown
Clarice hugged her. “Rafael can take care of himself.”
The reporter chimed in. “More information just came in. The Special Operations Response Team known as SORT was assisting the Narcotics Division, serving high-risk warrants when they were fired on. Two officers are down. The extent of their injuries is not known at this time.”
“No!” Nathalyia cried. “That’s Rafael’s unit.”
Clarice hugged her tighter. “Jake has contacts with some policemen. He’s working on finding out more.”
Nathalyia pulled away and reached for the phone. “His brother would know.” She dialed Information with a trembling hand. “Sam or Helen Dunlap in Myrtle Beach.”
“The number isn’t listed” came the droll answer.
“Please try Alec Dunlap in Myrtle Beach.”
The operator came back with the same answer for Alec, and later for Simon and Patrick in Charleston. Frantic, Nathalyia hung up the phone and reached for her purse. “He gave me his card.” She found it in the card slot and dialed the main number of the police unit. The line was busy. She kept trying and kept getting the same response.
Jake came through the door, his face stony.
“I already know it’s his unit.” She swallowed, then swallowed again before she could go on. “Is he the one hurt?”
“I can’t find out,” Jake said. “As you can imagine, things are crazy at the station and at the house where the standoff is still going on.”
Nathalyia’s arm circled her churning stomach. “Please, God, protect them and keep them safe.”
“They’ll take the injured to County. The team will be there as well once this is over,” Jake told her. “Do you want me to drive you?”
Nathalyia grabbed her purse and rounded her desk. “Let’s go.”
Rafael didn’t think he was dead. He could see the revolving lights of the police cars flashing off the jagged windowpanes of the house, he could hear Nelson, the other negotiator, talking on the bullhorn, he could smell tear gas. He must have blacked out. He tried to move his legs and couldn’t.
Panic hit before he glanced down and saw the gunman, sprawled halfway on top of him. Closing his eyes, he drew in a breath and found his lungs no longer burned as much.
“You try to come in here and you’ll get the same thing the other two got,” shouted a man from inside the house.
“Yeah, just try it and there will be more cops dirtying up the lawn,” yelled another man.
Both voices were muffled. They had on gas masks. “Barron,” Rafael said quietly. “Barron, you awake?”
Silence. There was only one course of action for Rafael; he had to get Barron out of there himself.
His vest had saved his life. He prayed the same was true for Barron. Bullets could ricochet once they entered the body, and on rare occasions they’d pierce an unprotected area of the body.
Inching his hand to his side, he felt Barron’s arm, then moved upward to feel his carotid. The beat was faint, but it was there.
“You can’t win this,” Nelson said. “Come out with your hands up.”
“Why don’t you come get us?” yelled one of the men inside the house. The words were punctuated with another spat of gunfire. The men inside were well armed. The unit could use shields to try to come in and get them, but that would put more officers in danger.
“It’s Dunlap,” Rafael whispered. “Barron is wounded and unconscious. Kill the light. At the ten count, I plan to be up and moving with him to the left.”
Rafael slowly worked one leg free, then used it to push the unconscious man off his lower leg. He began the slow count. He was taking a chance. There was no telling how those inside would react to the darkness, but he didn’t know how badly Barron was hurt. He couldn’t wait.
The lights went out.
Rafael rolled. Adrenaline pumping, he ignored the pain in his chest, came to his knees, and pulled Barron over his shoulder. He pushed to his feet as shots rang out from the house. He ignored the burning in his lungs and kept running.
Waiting hands took Barron from Rafael, and then grabbed his arm. He flinched. Pain shot up his left arm. He glanced down and saw a large dark stain. He touched the spot. His fingers came away wet and sticky. He’d been shot.
Jake couldn’t find a parking space and Nathalyia hadn’t wanted to wait. On the way to the hospital, they’d heard that one of the downed officers had carried the other to safety, and that both were on the way to the emergency room. Names weren’t being released.
“I’ll be fine.” Nathalyia slammed out of the car. Clarice jumped out of the backseat and was right behind her.
“I’ve never seen so many policemen and media,” Clarice said, hurrying to keep up with Nathalyia.
They were stopped at the emergency room by a policeman. “Do you have a medical emergency?”
Nathalyia opened her mouth to explain, but Clarice was already speaking.
“She’s dating Rafael Dunlap and his unit was involved in the shooting. She wants to make sure he’s all right.”
The two policemen traded glances. The one who had spoken asked, “Do you have any identification?”
Nathalyia fumbled in her purse for her license and Rafael’s card. “I tried to call his brothers, but their phone numbers are unlisted. Is he all right?”
The policeman handed back her license and the card. “We aren’t giving out any information. You can go inside and wait.”
“Are they here?” Clarice asked.
“On their way,” answered the other policeman. “Please wait inside,” he instructed as the first policeman who had spoken stopped three other women.
Clutching Clarice’s hand, Nathalyia went inside. The area was jammed with patients, police, and reporters trying to set up cameras.
“Nathalyia.”
She turned toward the sound and saw Helen. The other woman’s eyes were red and swollen. Shaking her head, Nathalyia began backing away from the approaching woman.
Helen caught her. “He’s been hurt, but there is a medic with his team. Thank God he had his vest on. They’re bringing him in now. Sam and Alec went to the scene. The rest of the family are on their way.”
Fear for Rafael almost buckled her knees, then she saw a woman crying softly. The two small children huddled close as a policeman with captain bars on his shoulders stood by her.
“The other policeman?” Nathalyia asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Helen bit her lip. “The bullet missed the vest.”
The senselessness of the shooting enraged her. She stared at the two children, their eyes wide and frightened. Guilt hammered her. Rafael might have died without knowing she was carrying their baby.
“This is Clarice Howard. Helen Dunlap. Rafael’s sister-in-law.”
The women nodded to each other. “He’ll be here soon, Nathalyia,” Clarice soothed.
“She’s right,” Helen agreed.
“Stand back! Stand back!” Several police officers pushed the crowd back. The emergency doors opened and paramedics rushed in pushing a gurney. The woman who had been crying came unsteadily to her feet.
“Al!” she wailed, rushing after the fast-moving stretcher that continued through the double doors. Several policemen kept the news media from following.
What-ifs hammered at Nathalyia. Regret and guilt swept though her.
“Stand back! Please stand back!”
The door opened. A paramedic pulled a gurney though the door. She saw Alec and Sam before she saw Rafael lying down, and when she did, her heart stopped, then beat wildly. His eyes were closed. There was a large white bandage on his left forearm.
Nathalyia clutched Clarice. Police officers began to applaud.
Rafael slowly opened his eyes, grimaced, and casually lifted his right hand a few inches from the gurney.
“Come on.” Grabbing Nathalyia’s arm, Helen rushed to Rafael. Once there, she gently hugged him on the right side. “I’m so proud of you.”
He looked over her
shoulder. His gaze clashed with Nathalyia’s. Tears streamed faster down her cheeks. He’d always been so neat. His blue cotton shirt was untucked, the left sleeve cut up to his shoulder, and dark splotches were on the right shoulder and arm. It took her seconds to figure out they were bloodstains from the other officer. They could have been his.
He lifted his hand toward her and she ran to him, hugging him as sobs racked her body.
“Don’t cry, Nat,” he crooned. “Don’t cry.”
Nathalyia couldn’t seem to stop crying any more than she could move away from him.
The sight of tears in Nathalyia’s eyes, the naked terror he’d hoped and prayed never to see, made Rafael’s chest tighten. Trying to hold her with his right arm as pain stabbed his left, the uncontrollable trembling of her body against his was almost more than he could bare.
“I’m all right, Nat. Shhh,” he repeated, kissing her hair. He tried to lift her head, but she just shook it, burrowing closer. Helplessly, he looked to Helen. His heart turned over. She was battling tears herself.
“I’m all right,” he repeated. “I’ll be out of here in no time.”
His teeth clenched, Sam pulled Helen to him. “Let the doctor check you out. Nathalyia can go with you. We’ll wait here.”
Since she didn’t appear willing to let go, he didn’t have a choice. He wasn’t willing to let her go either.
“I’m glad you’re all right. I’ll wait here for Jake,” Clarice said.
“Officer Dunlap, we need to get you into an exam room.”
Rafael looked up to see a young woman wearing a printed smock. He looked down at Nathalyia, who showed no sign of letting go. “We’re going to follow the nurse.”
After a few seconds, she nodded and straightened. Her hand clutched his.
“We’re ready.” The paramedics followed the nurse, giving her a report of his injuries as they went. When they entered the patient area, he saw Barron’s wife and several police officers outside an exam room. The door abruptly opened and out they came, pushing Barron on a gurney. They were almost running.
Nathalyia’s hand flexed in his. There was no way she hadn’t heard the doctor shouting that Barron was bleeding internally and they needed to get into surgery stat. Barron’s wife was almost hysterical and had to be restrained from going to him. Rafael’s heart went out to her and their two small children. Barron doted on his family and they loved him back.
Loving a policeman carried risks. There was always the possibility he wouldn’t come home. Rafael said another prayer for Barron.
The nurse stood by a cubical holding the curtain back as he was wheeled inside and positioned next to the bed. “Excuse us, ma’am. We have to lift him on the bed.”
Nathalyia released his hand and stepped aside. Her eyes bounced from his bandaged arm to his face. He tried to smile despite the throbbing in his chest, the pain in his arm.
“On the count of three, Dunlap.”
“You don’t have to—”
Ignoring him, they lifted him smoothly into the bed. “You did your job. Let us do ours,” the paramedic at the foot of the bed said.
The paramedic who had been at his head stepped around to face him. “You did us proud, man. Get better.”
“Thanks.”
“Officer Dunlap, do you need help sitting up to get this gown on?” the nurse asked.
Rafael gazed up at Nathalyia, who had moved back beside him. Perhaps he should have insisted she remain in the waiting room. His chest was banged and bruised from the impact of the bullets.
The nurse glanced at Nathalyia. “Sooner or later, it will have to be dealt with.”
Knowing she was right didn’t help. Gritting his teeth against the throbbing pain, he tried to sit up. Nathalyia helped, then gasped on seeing the dark bruises on his chest.
The curtain moved aside and Alec peered into the room. Rafael knew he must have heard Nathalyia. “I’m all right,” he repeated as the nurse and Nathalyia helped him put on the gown. Nodding, Alec let the curtain fall back into place.
Rafael had never wanted for them to go through this. Dealing with Patrick’s injury was bad enough. The shivering woman beside him was exactly the reason he didn’t plan to have a serious relationship. He didn’t want to leave a woman with tears on her face and an ache in her heart that wouldn’t go away.
“I’m going to take the dressing off so the doctor can examine you.” The nurse positioned a tray beside him and began placing packages and gloves on top. “You can keep the gown on until he gets here.”
His gut twisted at the misery and fear he saw in Nathalyia’s wide eyes. “My vest protected me. Although it hurts a bit, the medic on the team said my arm just has a flesh wound. My chest is a bit bruised, but I’m going to be fine.”
Her gaze slowly lowered to his chest. She lifted her hand, hovered. Closing his hand around hers, he held it to his chest.
“I was so scared,” she whispered, the words barely audible.
That was exactly what he had never wanted to happen. “I would have done anything to spare you that.”
“Somehow, I know that.” Her eyes, glistening with tears, stared down at him. “You’ve always been so caring and protective of me. I should have remembered that.”
He frowned. He wasn’t following her train of thought. “Nat—”
The curtain whooshed back. A middle-aged man in a white lab coat, with a stethoscope looped around his neck, entered. “I’m Dr. Freeman, officer Dunlap.” He extended his hand and briefly clasped Rafael’s right. “I usually like family and friends to wait outside unless the patient is unable to give accurate information, but in this case we’ll make an exception. Let’s take a look. Please remove the gown.”
Going to the sink in the corner, he began to wash his hands. Rafael grabbed the front of the gown to pull it down. Nathalyia reached to help. Her eyes widened on seeing the bruises again. Their gaze met. If he hadn’t worn a vest, he’d be dead.
The nurse opened one of the packages on the tray, removed a pair of scissors, and cut away the bandage on his arm.
Gloved, the doctor probed the wound left by the bullet. “Looks like an in and out, but I want to be sure. I’m ordering an X-ray and CT scan.” He moved to the bruises on Rafael’s chest. “I bet your wound and this hurt like hell.”
Rafael grimaced.
Unloosing the stethoscope, the doctor listened to Rafael’s lungs and heart. “Take a deep breath and keep doing so until I tell you to stop.”
Since Nathalyia’s eyes were glued to his, he gritted his teeth and did as requested.
The doctor straightened. “Everything checks out. Let’s get a temporary bandage on your arm, then send you to X-ray. If things check out there, you’ll be out of here in no time.”
“Thanks.”
“Guess I don’t have to tell you how lucky you are.” The doctor glanced at Nathalyia, who was holding Rafael’s hand again. “It seems in more ways than one.”
“No,” Rafael said.
“Thought not.” Dr. Freeman went to the curtain. “That was a brave thing you did, helping your team member. You gave him the edge he needed. I’m glad we have men like you protecting us. See you after the tests.”
“That goes for me, too,” the nurse said. She redressed his wound. “I’ll go see what’s keeping X-ray.”
“Thank you—for letting me stay,” Nathalyia said.
“It never crossed my mind not to,” he told her truthfully. She looked so lost and so terribly alone that Rafael reached for her without thinking. Perhaps she was frightened for herself as well. Her sister certainly wouldn’t be any help.
“X-ray,” a male voice called just before the curtain slid back to reveal a young bearded man pushing a gurney. “You ready to take a ride?”
“More than ready if it will get me out of here,” Rafael replied, then slowly scooted over to the bed as the man directed.
The man put up the side rails and looked at Nathalyia. “You can come with us if you want.”
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She looked at Rafael. He reached for her hand. “Let’s go.”
In less than an hour Rafael, with his left arm bandaged and in a sling, eased off the exam table for the last time and got into a wheelchair. The X-ray and CT scan had come back negative. In the pocket of a clean shirt that Helen thought to bring were prescriptions for an antibiotic and pain pills.
When the nurse wheeled him into the waiting room, he saw Barron’s wife with her head bowed, her hands clasped in her lap. Although people were with her, she appeared lost in her own hellish world.
As Rafael’s family surrounded him, he knew they were all thinking of the night they had kept vigil for Patrick. He’d arrived earlier with Brianna, Simon, Maureen, Celeste, Brooke, and her husband, John, a short while ago. Now Brianna held on to Patrick as tightly as he held on to her. He might not have survived his injuries, and they would have never met and fallen in love.
Rafael glanced up at Nathalyia, who had been with him every second except when he was having the actual tests. Fear still shimmered in her eyes.
“I’m all right. I’m going to Sam and Helen’s house. Thank you for coming. You need to go home.”
She nodded, bit her lower lip. “If you need anything, just call.”
“Thank you,” he said, knowing he wouldn’t call. Tonight he’d been selfish enough to want her with him, but for Nathalyia’s sake it had to end. She was too loving and caring. “How are you getting home?”
“Do you need a ride?” Sam asked her.
Nathalyia blinked rapidly as the other brothers asked the same question. “No, Clarice and Jake are waiting outside.” She looked at Rafael again. “Don’t forget to have your prescriptions filled. Goodbye.”
Rafael watched her go, his chest tight, an ache deep inside him that had nothing to do with his physical injuries.
Since Nathalyia knew she wouldn’t sleep, she took home the checkbook from the office to pay invoices. She had an accountant, but Martin had taught her never to give anyone else authority to sign the checks.
She blew out a breath and reached for another tissue. She wished someone had taught her how to deal with the mess she had gotten herself into. If she had been truthful with Rafael, she’d be there with him now, making sure he took his medicine and that he slept. And if he couldn’t sleep, she would hold him in her arms and just be there for him.