by Kate James
Dez looked down at her, his body lying on top of hers. “Are you okay? Did he get you?”
She squirmed under the weight of him. The sensation of his body against hers felt odd, yet familiar and intimate in the middle of a gunfight. She tucked that thought away to analyze later. “Why did you knock me down? I had him.”
“More like he had you.” Dez poked his head up then frowned down at her. “Stay down or you’ll get us both killed.”
She rolled to her belly and used her arms to push herself off the floor. “Intelligence said four or five guys and no weapons. What happened?”
“So much for the intel.” He pulled her closer to his side. Bullets still flew in the air around them. He aimed his weapon at one of the drug dealers who provided suppressive fire to cover their retreat. Dez fired his gun and hit the man in the shoulder, then turned to aim at another one who shot at the DEA agents by the front door. One shot, and the man went down, too. Sherri knew Dez was a good shot. He’d been known for it in the Marine Corps, but she’d never seen it firsthand. Impressive.
“Do you plan on taking them all down one by one?”
He glanced back at her. “Right now my goal is to get us all out alive. Forget trying to subdue twenty men with a team of half that.”
Sherri nodded and took in their surroundings. Two DEA agents held down one of the drug runners, but there were at least a dozen more of the bad guys by one of the exits with guns blazing. She did a perimeter check and noticed a door on the far right side of the warehouse. Probably led to an office, but it could be a means of getting out. Or there could be more of these drug runners hiding out and waiting for their time to take them all down. She pointed it out to Dez, who gave a short nod. “Go. I’ll back you up.”
She took a deep breath then got to her feet and ran for the office door. A man to her left turned his gun on her, and she shot him before he got the chance to put his finger on the trigger. He gave a cry and fell to the floor. She kept running, the office door ten feet away. Five. Two. One.
She tried the door handle. Locked. She hit her fist on the door then turned and shook her head at Dez. They needed to get in that room. Just like they needed to call for more backup. No one was going to get out alive if they didn’t get more firepower on their side. They were outmanned and definitely outgunned.
Dez came up alongside her then pushed her away from the door. He gave the handle a kick. Nothing. Another kick, and another. On the fourth, it gave way and the door opened. Empty. Sherri entered and secured the area then nodded to Dez. He stayed in the doorway and watched for any intruders on their temporary hideout.
Sherri pressed her earpiece, trying to make sense out of the shouting and garbled nonsense. “Something’s blocking our communications. You know what that means.”
“No one’s coming.” Dez grimaced and muttered a curse word under his breath. He glanced around the office and pointed to an old rotary phone. “See if that works.”
She picked up the phone and checked for a dial tone. She gave a short nod and dialed 911. After giving the address and a brief summary of events to the operator, she could feel her heart starting to slow down to a normal beat. She thanked the dispatcher and hung up the phone. “They already sent backup. Someone must have gotten word out before we lost communication.”
“Good.” Dez kept his gaze out on the warehouse floor, where movement seemed to have ceased. So had the gunfire. “Sounds like they’ve given up. Or left.”
“Or they’re pausing to reload.”
Dez turned back, a grin splitting his face. “Always the optimist.”
The sound of sirens in the background sent a wave of relief through Sherri. The cavalry was here to save them. She joined Dez at the doorway, gun ready just in case. “We should see who’s hurt.”
“Feels like Fallujah all over again. I left the Corps to get away from this. That’s what I don’t miss about the military.” He led the way back to the warehouse floor and bent down to check on a fallen woman, one of the DEA agents. He shook his head at Sherri.
She bit her lip as she leaned down and closed the woman’s eyes. It was the one she’d just been joking with about being a female in a predominantly male office. They had laughed about it only an hour ago, and now she was dead and Sherri couldn’t even remember the woman’s name. And that seemed to hurt more.
She straightened and felt a little woozy. She shook her head, trying to clear it, and followed Dez to where more bodies lay on the floor. He took the right side of the room while she took the left. Two dead agents and five drug runners. Plus another agent and seven more bad guys wounded.
The warehouse doors opened, and four uniformed police officers swarmed inside. Dez and Sherri holstered their weapons and held up their IDs. “Border Patrol.”
One of the officers approached them and nodded. He surveyed the room. “What happened in here?”
Dez put his ID back into the pocket of his jeans. “Drug raid gone bad. I assume we have some ambulances on their way here, too.”
The officer nodded. “Call came in about gunshots fired. Protocol says we get an ambo just in case.” He looked Dez and Sherri up and down. “You two hurt?”
Sherri shook her head, which seemed to be buzzing. Probably the adrenaline. “We were the lucky ones.”
The officer frowned and glanced at Sherri’s side. “Are you sure about that?”
Sherri looked at her right side and gasped. A bullet had shredded the body armor, and a dark red stain seeped through her white blouse underneath. She put her hand over the area and found it wet. She looked over at Dez. “Did I get shot?”
Dez removed her bulletproof vest and whistled. “I’d say so, Ace.” He put his arm around her. “I think we need to find a paramedic.”
Sherri nodded, but it felt as if it wasn’t her head that moved. Just as it wasn’t her body that had been pierced by a bullet. She felt nothing. Shouldn’t she feel something? She opened her mouth to say something to Dez, but blackness enveloped her.
* * *
BEFORE SHERRI COULD hit the floor, Dez scooped her up in his arms as easily as if she was a rag doll. He pushed past the officer and walked out the door of the warehouse. Too much like Fallujah. An ambulance with lights flashing waited outside in the parking lot of the warehouse. “I’ve got an agent down here.”
A paramedic rushed to him with her medical bag. “How long has she been unconscious?”
“Not even a minute.” He kneeled so that he could lay Sherri on the pavement. This was all his fault. He’d jumped at the chance to be a part of the raid and had dragged her along with him. Not that she’d protested. He had a suspicion she would have volunteered them if he hadn’t first. But this was his fault. He muffled a curse word. “She didn’t know she was shot.”
The paramedic used scissors to cut the blouse up the side and exposed Sherri’s injury. Dez knew he should probably look away, but the angry red wound drew his gaze like a moth to flame. He winced. “Is it bad?”
The paramedic shifted Sherri’s body, examining it, and shook her head. “Looks like it went through but we’ll take her to the hospital to be sure. She’s losing a lot of blood, though.” She glanced at him. “Do you know what blood type she is, by chance?”
He shook his head. He knew enough about Sherri since they’d been partners for the last four years. He knew how she liked her coffee, what she’d wear to work and how she wrinkled her nose when she laughed, but he didn’t know that important detail. “Sorry.”
“They’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.” The paramedic glanced behind her at her partner. “Mark, get the stretcher. We’re taking her in.”
Dez grasped Sherri’s hand, which lay slack in his. “I’m going with you.”
The paramedic glanced at him then gave a short nod. “You sure they don’t need you here anymore?”
“They’ll know where to find me. She needs me more.” Because there was no way he was going to leave Sherri’s side now. He let go of her hand as the paramedics strapped Sherri onto the board then carried her to the ambulance. He ran behind them and jumped into the back, crouched next to Sherri as the driver slammed the doors shut, and then they were off in a flurry of lights and sirens.
Dez pushed Sherri’s long hair out of her face. “She has to be okay.”
“Is there anyone you can call? Her family?”
He nodded and removed his cell phone from the interior pocket of his jacket. He had her mom’s number programmed in case of emergency, and there was no bigger emergency than this. He scanned through the names on his contact list then pressed Perla’s name.
A hand reached out and touched his arm. He looked up to find Sherri watching him and shaking her head. “Don’t call her.”
“You’re hurt. She needs to know.”
“I don’t want her to worry.” She shifted on the board and winced. “I’ll call her later.”
“Sorry, Ace, but this is out of your hands.” He pressed the name and waited while the phone rang despite Sherri’s protests. When her mom answered the other end, he gave her brief details about what had happened. “They’re taking us to...”
He glanced at the paramedic who was putting an IV into Sherri’s vein. “Detroit General.” He repeated the information to Sherri’s mom.
“How is she?” Perla asked.
Dez looked over at Sherri, who glared at him. If she didn’t have one arm being poked with a needle, he was sure she’d be giving him the finger. “I think she’s going to be just fine.”
“Tell her I love her, and we’ll be right there.”
Dez hung up and gave Sherri the message. She groaned. “Just what I don’t need. The waiting room filled with my family.” She winced as the paramedic packed more gauze around the bleeding wound. “My mom’s going to kill me. I promised her the job was a safe one.”
“It should have been. Someone tipped them off.” He put a hand on Sherri’s foot. “Just don’t die on me. I don’t want to have to get used to a new partner.”
“Ha-ha.” But she didn’t look like she was amused. Instead, her eyes were clouded with pain that also left tight lines around her mouth.
“They’ll take care of you, and you’ll be back at work in no time.” He said it mostly because he hoped it was true. He couldn’t imagine having to work without her. Couldn’t imagine living without seeing her most days. He pressed the center of his chest where there seemed to be a hot object being pushed into his skin.
The ambulance pulled into the hospital parking lot, and then the back doors were opened and people were running out to meet them. Dez stepped back as they removed Sherri from the ambulance and transferred her onto a wheeled gurney. He followed the short ER doctor as she yelled out orders to her team. “Take her to Trauma Two. And I want O neg pumped into her ASAP.” She glanced up at Dez. “Anything I need to know about my patient?”
“She’s a warrior. Don’t let her die.”
The doc gave a curt nod then ran into the ER. Dez watched her go and then dropped his head. He could stop being strong for a moment.
* * *
SHERRI WATCHED AS a team of nurses and interns buzzed around her, asking questions, removing bloody gauze, hooking her up to an IV bag, probing the wound. That last one made her sit up and shout. “Are you trying to kill me?”
The ER doctor entered the room and moved people away so that she could see the wound. Sherri looked down at the blood and swallowed back the acidic taste in her mouth. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, willing herself not to pass out despite the ringing in her ears. “Is it bad?”
“I’ve seen worse.” The doctor irrigated the wound with saline from a syringe then felt around the area with her fingertips. “Good news is that the bullet passed through, so I think you just need a few dozen stitches. My concern is the loss of blood.” She probed an area above the wound and frowned. Spread her fingers out farther. “How long have you noticed this lump here, Ms. Lopez?”
Sherri looked down where the doctor had her fingers and shook her head. “I never noticed.”
“Probably nothing.” She turned to a nurse, giving out orders. “I’m going to suture the wound. And go check on where that blood is.”
Sherri bit her lip as the doctor skillfully sewed the wound together on the front. She couldn’t watch and kept her gaze on the blinds that covered the windows that looked out into the ER. “Dr. Sprader, am I going to be able to go back to work?”
The doctor didn’t look up at her, but continued to place tiny stitches to bind her skin over the hole. “My guess is that a small thing like a bullet hole won’t keep you down.” She looked up at Sherri. “At least not for long. Now let’s suture where the bullet came out.”
Sherri turned on her side so the doctor could find the wound on her back. She winced as she felt fingertips trace the area. “My partner...”
“He’s in the waiting room, pacing. Don’t worry. I’ll give him an update once I’m finished here.” Dr. Sprader fell silent for a moment, the noise of the ER outside the room the only sounds. She sighed as she sutured the wound. “So how did you get a bullet in you?”
“Ambush during a drug raid.” Sherri sucked in air as the wound burned.
“I’ll be sure to get you some painkillers as well as antibiotics for you to take home.” The doctor placed a large square of white gauze over the wound and taped it into place. “I’m also going to ask that you take it easy for a few days so that you don’t rip out my handiwork too soon.”
Dr. Sprader helped Sherri shift again onto her back and taped gauze over the front wound. She frowned again. “Do you mind if I check something out? I don’t think it’s related to your injury, but it concerns me.”
Sherri nodded and watched as the doctor probed the area above the gauze on the underside of her breast. Dr. Sprader obviously didn’t like what she found because she told the nurse beside her to call the radiology department to get them in for a consult. Sherri frowned. “Radiology?”
“There’s a lump on the underside of your breast that I don’t like.” Dr. Sprader guided Sherri’s fingers to the spot about the size of a half pea but hard rather than mushy. “You haven’t noticed that?”
Sherri shook her head. “What do you think it is?”
“More than eighty percent of lumps are nothing, but I don’t want to play around.” She removed her bright pink skullcap to reveal short, spiky, dark blond hair no longer than an inch. “I’ve just finished my own fight with breast cancer, so I know how important it is to get answers early.”
What? Cancer? Sherri tried to find words to say but couldn’t seem to find any. Instead, she shook her head until the doctor put a hand on hers. “Like I said. Most turn out to be nothing, a cyst. But I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
“Okay.”
A nurse poked her head into the room. “Ron says he can take her in about an hour. And she’s got an army wanting to see her out in the waiting room.”
Sherri closed her eyes and took another deep breath. “Mama.”
“I can go get her so that she can accompany you up to radiology if you’d like.”
Sherri shook her head. As comforting as the thought was of having Mama next to her while they ran tests, she had to be strong and do this on her own. “No. I don’t want her to know anything yet. But I do want to see her before.” She paused. “And Dez.”
Dr. Sprader nodded. “I’ll send her back. And she’ll only know what you want to tell her.”
The doctor left, and Sherri collapsed back onto the gurney. Chances are the lump Dr. Sprader had found was nothing. But what if it wasn’t?
* * *
THE ER DOCTOR entered the waiting room and scanned faces until
she found his. She gave a soft smile and approached where he stood among the many members of the Lopez family. “She’s asking to see you and her mother.”
Dez reached around and brought Perla Lopez forward. The woman grasped the doctor’s hand. “How is she?”
“She’s going to be fine, Mrs. Lopez. If you follow me, I’ll take you back to see her.”
Dez frowned at this. “When will she be ready to go home?”
“There’s some tests I’d like to run first before we release her.” She wound around the various beds and rooms before taking them back to a trauma area. She opened the door and led them both inside then quietly left.
Sherri lay on the gurney, her left arm over her eyes, which she dropped to her side and held out to her mother. “I’m going to be fine, Mama.”
Perla rushed to her left side and pulled her into an embrace, tears streaming from her eyes. “Desmond said that you were okay, but I needed to see it with my own eyes.”
“It’s okay.” Sherri winced but didn’t let go of her mother. “I’m okay.”
Dez touched her foot still in a black boot. “They let you keep the bullet as a souvenir?”
Her eyes rose to his, and she shook her head. “No bullet. Passed right through. Just like the paramedic said.”
“She said that when you were unconscious.”
Sherri shrugged. “I heard her say it, though. I’ll have to take it easy, but other than that I’m good to go. What we need to do is figure out who tipped off our drug runners that we were coming.”
“There’s time for that later. The important part is for you to get better. How are you going to pitch your killer curveball this summer if you pull out your stitches?” He felt better talking about the coed softball team they cocaptained rather than the chance he could have lost her earlier. Easier to joke around than admit that he’d almost choked on his fear. He needed her more than he had realized, wanted her in a way he hadn’t known before. Pushing that thought aside, he leaned against one wall, his hands behind his back to avoid doing something stupid like touching her to make sure she was okay. “We’re not going to lose out to the Detroit Cop Union again. You need to be in fighting shape.”