by Amy Ruttan
“It was on the right side so I would be more worried about the liver. It could be lacerated, but right now we have to get him breathing again and drain the blood out of his chest cavity. Watch for tension pneumothorax.”
“How about the exit wounds of the other shots?” she asked. “They don’t appear to be RIP bullets. They’re through-and-through.” She examined the gunshot wound on the thigh. “Didn’t touch the femoral artery.”
“Good. Pack it.” Zac was preparing the tray for a tubal thoracotomy.
She packed it and then checked the shoulder exit wound. which was also a through and through, as was the arm. It was just the chest that wasn’t.
It was just that one bullet that had been the deadly one. The one meant to kill.
“Why would the assailant just use one RIP bullet?” Ella wondered.
“Probably could only get their hands on one,” Zac remarked. “Probably couldn’t afford it.”
“Why is this ammunition even sold?”
Zac shook his head. “I don’t know. The assailant could’ve had a cheap knock-off. Perhaps that’s why Mr. Chow is still with us.”
Ella held the patient steady so that he didn’t move around too much as Zac made his incision and inserted a large drain, suturing around it so that it would stay put. Once it was done Ella hung a bag of blood. They would have to monitor the output of Mr. Chow’s blood loss and hang blood accordingly.
“What a freaking night,” Zac murmured.
The power came back on and as it did the cardiothoracic surgeon who was supposed to be on duty on Christmas Day came rushing into the exam room. Dr. Bentley looked tired and like he had been woken up from a long Christmas nap. He was devilishly handsome and always flirted with Ella shamelessly, though she thought nothing of it.
“I was paged that there was a gunshot wound to the chest? I got here as soon as my street was cleared and then I got trapped in the elevator.”
“This the patient, David,” Ella said, handing Dr. Bentley the chart. “Through-and-throughs to the leg, shoulder and arm. The bullet in the patient’s chest did not have an exit wound and was a radically invasive projectile.”
Dr. Bentley swore under his breath. “Has a tubal thoracotomy been done?”
“Yes,” Zac replied. “Blood has been hung and the patient intubated. Vitals are currently stable.”
“I expect no less from a naval man.” Dr. Bentley smiled and nodded. “Well, I’ll take over from here, Doctors. I need to get this man up to an operating room. Dr. Davenport, will you assist me?”
“Of course.” Zac began to secure the saline bags and lines as they got Mr. Chow ready to go up to the operating-room floor.
Ella stepped back and let them by.
She just prayed that there wouldn’t be another power outage.
“Dr. Lockwood,” Stacey shouted from Dispatch.
“Yes?” Ella said, turning around.
“Incoming!”
Zac glanced back at her, his expression tense.
“I’ve got this,” she said. “Take care of the patient.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Zac said.
“I know.”
She changed her gown and gloves, disposing of them, and put on a fresh trauma gown, stepping out into the cold, whirling storm and listening for the faint wail of ambulance sirens. As she did so, she was suddenly up to her ankles in pooling water, which was rapidly running across the ground.
A storm surge.
Just what they needed in the middle of the night.
She just hoped the generators would hold. Now more than ever, because if the storm surge was ankle-deep and reaching them, the lower Manhattan hospitals would soon be implementing their emergency evacuation plans and they would be swamped with patients.
* * *
A cardiothoracic fellow managed to stumble in thirty minutes into Mr. Chow’s surgery, so Zac was able to scrub out and make his way back down to the emergency room.
He’d heard there were storm surges coming in.
The cardiothoracic fellow had mentioned he’d waded in ankle-deep water to get to the hospital.
Thankfully, the emergency generators were not in the bowels of the hospital. Charles had moved them to higher ground when they’d revamped the backup system as they were safe from the water that might short them out. Still, they hadn’t been the most reliable tonight.
And he’d heard from Dr. Bennet that there was still the risk of the grid shutting down.
What they’d experienced on Christmas Eve had been nothing compared to the strength of the storm that was pelting New York right at this moment. He had to get back down to the emergency room floor. They were probably overwhelmed, but more staff had managed to get in when there had been a break in the storm.
He pushed the down button and the doors snapped shut.
Zac wasn’t thinking of anything in particular when there was a grind and a flicker of power. He didn’t want to be trapped in an elevator, especially as he was a bit claustrophobic. This was the last thing he needed.
He needed to be out there, doing his job. Ella needed him. It was nice to work with her. Instead of fighting over patients, they were working together like a team. Just like before. He hadn’t realized he’d missed it so much.
There was a jolt and a squeal of metal.
Dammit. No.
The elevator ground to a halt. And he was trapped in darkness, inside a metal box. His pulse raced and his body trembled. He was trapped. There was no way out. He pushed the call button.
“Maintenance,” the voice said on the other end.
“It’s Dr. Davenport, Zac. I’m trapped in the south tower elevator somewhere between the operating floor and the emergency department.”
“Sorry, Dr. Davenport. We’re working on getting the generators up and running. One blew out. It should only be a few moments.”
Zac didn’t respond, although he wanted to tell them to hurry, but he didn’t want his voice to give him away. To let them know just how absolutely terrified to the core he was at this moment, trapped between floors.
Deep breaths.
Right now he had to focus. He had to remember what he’d learned in that mandatory counselling session.
He had to focus on that one perfect moment in his life.
And that was Ella.
He closed his eyes and thought about her and their kiss.
“Ella,” he whispered, breaking off the kiss. “If you keep kissing me like that...”
“What then?” she whispered, her hands on his face.
“I don’t know.” And then he kissed her again. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. We’re both leaving for medical school after Christmas. It doesn’t have to be anything but this moment.”
“I’d never hurt you, Ella.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks and she smiled. “I know you wouldn’t. You’re my dragon slayer.”
Zac shook that thought away, because what he’d thought was a joyful moment, a perfect moment, had been marred by him.
He’d told her that he’d never hurt her and yet he had. Those unkind words he’d said had been to stop those other guys from gossiping, from talking about him and Ella getting married, something he’d been tired of hearing about because he’d never wanted to get married. He hadn’t wanted anything to do with his parents’ world. Which was why the navy had been perfect.
It had just been talk.
And the wrong thing to say.
He thought of her at the wedding not that long ago. How different she’d looked, but also the same when he’d seen her. How it had torn him up inside that she’d looked right through him like he’d been a ghost.
Of course, now he knew why.
T
hen her kiss when they’d been lying in the darkness of the on-call room. The way she’d felt in his arms as he’d carried her from the uncomfortable chair to a cot, where they had joked about Santa.
The way she had a larger-than-life presence in the operating room. The way she commanded respect from a plethora of eager residents and interns, all of whom wanted to learn from her, but were also in awe of her. No one wanted to make a fool of themselves in front of Ella. They all sought her approval, but she didn’t see it.
She was stronger than she believed.
And he admired her.
He wanted her.
She needed someone better than him and she had been here first. Perhaps he should resign from Manhattan Mercy and let her stay here. He didn’t want to hold Ella back.
He didn’t deserve her after what he’d done to her. Their chance had been squandered.
Yet another part of him wanted to take the chance, to right the wrong he’d done so long ago.
Perhaps just being with her once would bury the ghosts once and for all?
Perhaps you could find happiness instead?
“Zac?” The voice on the intercom was Ella’s.
“Ella?”
“I heard that you were stuck.”
“I am. How is it going in the emergency room?”
“Another couple of trauma surgeons made it in, but it’s quiet for the moment again. There are storm surges and the snow is blocking storm sewers. The streets in lower Manhattan are flooded.”
“That’s not helping,” he said dryly.
“Sorry, you asked.”
“I hate being stuck in here.” And he hated himself for saying those words to her at that moment. He hated showing a vulnerable side, but he had no choice. He felt as if he was on the edge of a deep chasm of darkness.
Talking to her kept the hellish memories away.
It helped him keep his mind off the fact he was suspended between floors. In the dark. Alone.
He hated the dark.
“You okay?” she asked. “You’ve gone quiet.”
“I’m thinking.”
“I assumed so, there’s not much to do stuck between floors,” she teased.
A smile crept across his face and he chuckled. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Tell me a joke,” he said.
“A joke?” she asked, shocked. “I don’t know any jokes.”
“Come on, of course you do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Tell me a surgeon joke.”
“Ugh, okay. A man wakes up in a hospital bed and screams, ‘Doctor, I can’t feel my legs!’ And the surgeon replies, ‘Of course you can’t, I cut off both your arms.’”
Zac rolled his eyes and shook his head. “That’s a terrible joke. Who told you that joke?”
“Charles,” she said, and then they laughed at the absurdity of it.
“I should’ve known.”
“It’ll be okay,” she said. “Remember that time you got stuck in the broom cupboard when we were eleven? We were in there for a while.”
“Yeah, but that was different,” Zac said.
“Why?”
“You were with me.”
There was no response on the other end.
“Ella?” he asked cautiously.
“I’m here,” she said. “I’m still here.”
“Thanks for being here.” He sighed. “I didn’t really want to be alone in here.”
“No doubt. I know you have issues with small spaces.”
“It’s why I didn’t work on a submarine,” he teased. “Still, there were times...”
“Times what?” she gently asked.
“Situations that still haunt me.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It must’ve been tough.”
“Yeah, but you always got me through it.”
There was another pause. “What do you mean, I got you through it? I wasn’t there.”
“You were,” he said, his pulse thundering, and he wished he could reach through the intercom and touch her. “You were there in my mind. All the times we were together.”
He wanted to tell her about how he wished there had been more between them but couldn’t form the words.
“You were there, Ella. Always.”
The lights came on and the elevator started to move. When he got off on the emergency-room floor, Ella was there waiting for him.
Just like she’d always been there, her eyes wide and breathing fast. And all he could think about was righting the wrong and taking her in his arms.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” he said huskily. Every fiber in his being was telling him to take her, but his conscience was screaming at him that he didn’t deserve her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, pink blooming in her cheeks.
“That was a terrible joke.”
“I told you I don’t know jokes.”
He took a step closer. He could smell her hair. Roses. Just like he remembered. He reached out and touched her soft cheek. “No, you don’t know jokes.”
She closed her eyes and touched his hand. “Did you mean what you said?”
“About you being there when I was overseas? Yeah, I did.”
She looked up at him and he could feel her pulse racing under his hands. “I’m glad I was there.”
“I’m glad you’re here too.”
And before she said anything Zac took her in his arms, cupping her face and capturing her lips with his.
Even though he knew that he shouldn’t, that he was going to leave because it was better for her, he just couldn’t help himself.
All he wanted was one more taste of her sweet lips.
To hold her in his arms one more time. To take the chance he squandered and have more of her. All of her. Even for just a night.
“Zac,” Ella whispered in shock. “What?”
“I’m sorry, Ella. I couldn’t help myself. I’ve...” And he couldn’t find the words and kissed her again, urgently this time because he needed to have her. To possess her. To get lost in her arms. He wanted to know what it was like to be with her instead of just dreaming about it.
“I need you, Ella,” he whispered against her lips, drinking in her scent, her taste.
“Zac, I want you too,” she said breathlessly. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the nearest empty on-call room, shutting the door behind him with a swift kick. He set her down and kissed her again.
“I just want to be with you, Ella. I know I don’t deserve it. Please be with me. Just for tonight.” He wanted to make up for the past mistake and he hoped she did too.
Her answer was to kiss him again, reaching behind him to turn the lock on the on-call room door. He reached up to undo the messy bun of her cornsilk-blonde hair. He was going to enjoy this moment. This one moment.
Just one last time.
Even if it shattered his soul completely.
CHAPTER TEN
WHAT’RE YOU DOING? What’re you doing?
That was the argument from the rational side of her brain, which told her to protect her guard. The other side was urging her to give in and enjoy this moment that she’d been dreaming about for so long.
She wanted to see if her fantasies matched reality. She’d had other boyfriends, but they hadn’t been memorable and they had been fleeting because deep down all she’d ever wanted was Zac.
She’d been numb for so long, she just wanted the release of heady pleasure.
That voice of reason was drowning in a sea of need and desire as his lips crushed hers with kisses, his hands in her hair, as
she pulled him tight against her body so they were flush. As she felt his hard body pressed against hers, any reservations she had melted away in a rush of lust.
This wasn’t love.
And that’s what she had to keep reminding herself. Zac Davenport was incapable of love. She’d learned that lesson a long time ago. Only now, at the end, she wouldn’t be devastated. She could just enjoy this moment and take it for what it was.
It was just sex.
Plain and simple.
Really?
Maybe it wouldn’t be just sex. A part of her hoped that it wouldn’t be just that. Deep down, she was secretly hoping for more, but steeling herself for the disappointment because all she knew right now was that she wanted him.
Only him.
What he’d said in the elevator had broken through the guards around her heart. It had melted her resolve completely. She was lost and she didn’t care.
All she wanted to do was feel.
The kiss ended, and her breath hitched in her throat as she helped him out of his scrub top and ran her hands over the hardened muscles that hadn’t been there before. She let her fingers travel over scars that marred his flesh, scars that hadn’t been there before, and she couldn’t help but wonder how they had got there.
“Bullet,” he whispered against her neck. “It was nothing.”
“Do you want me to stop touching you there?” she asked. She was upset that he’d been shot, but he had been in the armed forces so that was always a possibility.
“No, I like it. I like you touching me there.” He kissed her neck, right against her pulse point. “Your heart is racing. I can feel it.”
And then she placed a hand on his chest. “Yours as well.”
He helped her pull off her scrub top and toss it away. Zac ran his hands down her back, causing a shiver of delight to pass through her.
“Your skin is so soft. I’d forgotten how soft it was.” His brilliant blue eyes twinkled in the darkness. It was his eyes that always made her go weak in the knees and now was no exception. It was just the two of them here in the wee hours of Christmas Day, surrounded by a storm that had shut down the entire city.
And she wanted to tell him about all the things she’d forgotten about him. How he made her feel. How safe he made her feel.