by Mayburn, Ann
Yuki elbowed him. “We’re fine. Now hush, I need to ask Michelle something.”
James made a pantomime motion of zipping his lips.
Blinking rapidly, Yuki cleared her throat and said, “Michelle, you are truly the sister I never had, my best friend who’s been there with me through thick and thin. We were wondering if you’d do us the honor of being our baby’s godmother.”
Tears started to fall down Michelle’s cheeks again and Wyatt helped her out of his lap when she went to stand, then stumbled over to Yuki and threw her arms around her best friend. “I would be so totally honored. Thank you, thank you so much.”
James gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You know I love you, honey, and I’m so proud to have you be our daughter’s godmother.”
She laughed and pulled back from Yuki, both women scrubbing their cheeks. “Daughter? Isn’t it too early to tell?”
Yuki rolled her eyes. “James had a dream about a little girl so now he’s determined that the jelly bean is female.”
Giving a mock shudder, James shook his head. “I’m hoping it’s a boy. Could you imagine having to live with Yuki, times two?”
Laughing, Michelle sat back, then jumped again as another roll of thunder rent the air, this time hard enough that it not only rattled the windows, but she felt it in her bones. The dogs crowded up against her and she rubbed them, trying to sooth their obvious unease at the loud noises. It had gotten dark enough that James had to lean over to turn on a lamp next to the couch. Michelle listened to the rain slam against the house as the wind howled. “Maybe we should get away from the windows.”
A melody came from Wyatt’s direction and she glanced over, watching him pull his cell phone out of his pocket. Looking up, he stood and said, “Excuse me for a second.”
Michelle turned her attention back to Yuki. “How are you feeling? I’m assuming your bout of puking earlier wasn’t from a stomach virus.”
“Ugh, you have no idea how sick I’ve been. Instead of morning sickness I have all day sickness.”
James rubbed his wife’s belly with a soft smile. “Seems the only thing she can keep down is peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with a brand of strawberry jelly that you can only get in from an Amish farm in Pennsylvania. I shit you not, I bought a case of that stuff. We ran out of the first jar last week and Yuki had me driving to every store in a thirty mile radius looking for that shit.”
“Speaking of which,” Yuki said before licking her lips. “Can you get me a jar of it and a spoon?”
Laughing, Michelle hugged Yuki again while James wandered off to the kitchen. “I’m so happy for you.”
Pulling back, Yuki lowered her voice and said, “How are things going with you?”
“Better, much better.”
“Good. I was afraid…well I was afraid.” She teared up and grabbed Michele’s hand. “Do you forgive me for not telling you about Wyatt?”
“So you did know what he was up to?”
“Yes. He called James the evening after he left the hotel and filled him in. Asked us to keep an eye on you. I’m sorry we didn’t do a better job of it.”
“No, please don’t feel any guilt.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I think I needed to hit bottom in order to really take a look at my life. If you’d kept making up excuses for me, kept trying to protect me, then I never would have learned to stand on my own. Not that I’m blaming you in any way for my fucked up life, but you love me and we try to protect those we love even when we need to let them fail.”
“Wow, Michelle, that actually sounded really mature.”
“Shut up. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry I’ve been such a difficult bitch.”
“You are a difficult bitch, but you’re my difficult bitch.” She leaned back and examined Michelle. “Wyatt’s really good for you and he loves you with everything he has, you know that, right?”
“I do, and I love him with everything I have. He’s my guardian angel.” She sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Have you seen his tattoo yet?”
Giving an excited bounce, Yuki shook her head. “He described it to me but wouldn’t show me any pictures. Said you got to see it first.”
“It is totally drool worthy.”
Wyatt’s voice came from behind her, hoarse and unexpectedly grave. “Michelle, we have to leave.”
She immediately stood and turned to face him, his grim expression making her heart race. “Wyatt, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“That was Wendy on the phone. A tornado, a big one, hit one of the suburbs south of Houston. We’ve been called up. They need us as soon as we can get to Front Line. We need to go get changed and haul ass.”
For one, brief moment a terrible panic filled her, a choking feeling that made her vision dim before she forced herself to focus just on Wyatt, on his dark eyes, and drew in a deep breath. Just like riding a bike, her training and years of experience as a surgeon both in and out of the Navy kicked in and a focused calm settled over her. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 18
Wyatt squeezed Michelle’s hand as they began to see signs of the tornado’s devastation through the windows of the SUV. They were riding with two other volunteers and the back of the SUV was packed with emergency medical supplies and special gear used during search and rescue to try and find victims as well as a trailer hooked up behind the SUV with a huge generator. They’d passed over the first signs of the storm’s path of destruction a couple miles back where a tornado had plowed over Highway 6. Cars, semi-trucks, and debris had been scattered all over the area and his stomach clenched as he tried to not think about how many lives had been lost.
They’d been flagged through by the police and now joined a convoy of emergency vehicles streaming their way into the suburban city of Sugar Land which had suffered a direct hit from a massive tornado that was at least a mile wide at one point. A continuous stream of chatter came from the CB at the front of the SUV, different emergency agencies reporting mass destruction on an epic scale. Wyatt was struggling to keep his cool, but it was getting harder and harder. The sight of all those vehicles destroyed by the tornado reminded him too much of vehicles after they’d been hit by an IED or mortar and he’d had a few moments where he came close to panicking. It was only because of Michelle that he’d managed to keep his shit under control.
He could do this. People needed his help, Michelle needed his help. He would not let her down.
He noticed a metallic taste in his mouth as he got his first glimpse at some of the worst devastation. They were arriving about an hour after the storm had struck so there were already emergency vehicles with extremely bright lights shining on the destruction here and there along with an almost continuous strobe of lights from police cars and ambulances.
They reached a cluster of police cars and Greg, a retired Army Staff Sergeant who was driving the SUV, let out a harsh breath then rolled down his window and one of the police officers came over. “Evening. We’re first responders with Front Line trained in search and rescue. We have a doctor and a paramedic with us. Where do you want us?”
The harried looking officer rubbed his face. “St. Luke’s Hospital took some major damage, it’s a fucking mess over there and they’re triaging in the parking lot. If you’ve got medical with you we could sure use at the hospital. Give me a second and I’ll escort you. The streets…” he swallowed hard. “It’s bad.”
Michelle’s hand gripped Wyatt’s harder and he squeezed back, the police officer’s words digging into his head like needles. He forced himself to focus on the very civilian interior of the SUV, on the front seat and the bright pink shirt that Dawn, the paramedic and former Navy corpsman wore – normal, everyday things that he’d never see over in the sandbox. Dawn glanced back at them and he could easily see her distress. Before he could move to comfort her Michelle leaned forward and gave Dawn’s shoulder a squeeze before whispering something to the other woman.
Greg nodded. “I’ll fo
llow you.”
The police officer hesitated, then said in a low voice, “It’s a mass casualty situation over there right now. You need to prepare yourselves.” Before Greg could respond the police officer left and got into one of the nearby police cars and pulled out in front of them.
“Okay boys and girls, time to buck the fuck up.”
Michelle gave Dawn’s shoulder another squeeze before sitting back. “How do you want to run this?”
“Michelle, you go where they need you. Wyatt, I want you sticking to Michelle’s side like a fly on shit. You get her anything and everything she needs. You served together over in Afghanistan, right?”
Trying to keep his mind focused on the present Wyatt nodded. “Yep.”
“Good. I’m going to assist Dawn. They might have us go out with a search and rescue crew because of Dawn’s skills as a paramedic, but they’ll probably keep you and Michelle in the triage area. Keep your satellite phones on at all times. Michelle, you helped pack up your med bags so you know what’s in ‘em and you know what we have back at the armory. I’m not sure what kind of supplies you’ll have available to you, but if you need more and you know we have it in stock at the armory, call home base and we’ll try and get you what you need as soon as possible.”
The no-bullshit tone of Greg’s voice helped Wyatt calm himself somewhat, but as they passed groups of crying people, covered in mud and clinging to each other, his heart raced. Everywhere he looked there was misery, pain, and suffering. While he’d known in theory that they’d be facing some of the worse things a human being could see, he hadn’t been ready for the emotional impact. At least on the battlefield he’d been somewhat prepared for the inevitable injuries and loss of life.
Seeing entire neighborhoods destroyed, familiar landmarks now reduced to rubble, he was having a hard time keeping his shit in check. Already his mind was insisting he was seeing things that shouldn’t be there, like a man with a rocket launcher that was in reality only a fluttering sheet wrapped around a tree stripped of its bark. His heart raced and he tried to swallow past the metallic tang that filled his mouth, reminding him of blood.
In an effort to distract himself, to keep his mind from fleeing and leaving behind a terrified animal in a man’s body, he began to go through the tricks he’d learned in therapy to ground himself. He focused on things that would keep him in the moment, things that he wouldn’t see over in the sandbox. He gazed at Dawn, taking in the bright pink of her shirt with her neon orange vest over it. They were bright, bold, clean colors that he would never see out on a mission. Next he turned to Michelle and examined the sparkling eyeshadow she wore, the hint of pink lipstick left on her lips, the dangling silver earrings brush against her clean neck as she turned to look out her window. They’d taken time to change into heavy cargo pants with supplies in the pockets and the t-shirts that marked them as part of the Front Line first responders team, as well as their own orange vests.
All those things helped ground him, but what helped the most was the focused intensity on Michelle’s face. In all the bullshit they’d gone through together he’d almost forgotten how formidable Michelle could be in an emergency situation. He could actually see her mind focus to a laser like precision and the core of strength in her rise to the surface. Pride suddenly filled him, helping to push back his panic as he examined his woman. While most people, himself included, would be freaking out his Domina was gathering her formidable willpower for the time ahead.
The SUV slowed and Dawn let out a shaky breath then said, “Holy shit.”
Wyatt leaned forward to look through the windshield and his stomach dropped. He didn’t know what the hospital had looked like before the tornado, but now it was absolutely trashed. There was what appeared to be a two story main building flanked on either side by two five story buildings. Most of the windows had been blown out and the top floor of the building on the left looked like it had collapsed on itself. Emergency vehicles crowded the area with a stream of ambulances being loaded up one by one on the far side of the lot. A bulldozer was pushing the crumpled wrecks of cars off to one side of the parking area and the space that had been cleared had tents set up with emergency generators roaring and huge portable lights illuminating the area.
Greg slowed down as they pulled in and the police officer ahead of them must have told the female police officer directing traffic who they were because she waved them through.
Rolling down his window, Greg said, “Where do you want us?”
“Head left and park where you can. Get your medical people to one of the triage tents and they’ll tell you where to go from there. If you could train your lights on the lake we’d appreciate it.”
“Got it.”
As Greg pulled farther into the chaos of the medical center Wyatt almost asked why they’d want the lights on the lake, then his stomach sank as he realized there might be victims in the water. With all the lakes in this area there wasn’t any doubt that people would have been thrown into the water if their house didn’t have a storm shelter of some type. Greg pulled into an empty spot between a downed tree and a pile of rubble. He turned on the super bright lights fastened to the top of the SUV and they all drew in a collective harsh breath at the sight of pieces of buildings, insulation, and God knew what else floating in the water along with people in boats searching through the wreckage.
“Sweet Mary, mother of God,” Dawn whispered as she crossed herself.
Michelle was already exiting the vehicle. “Gary, unlock the trunk.”
Her command filled voice seemed to snap everyone out of their stupor and Wyatt found himself grabbing two heavy duffle bags and following Michelle at a brisk jog towards the white triage tents with their yellow awnings. She had her duffle bag on her back like a back pack and he was glad that he’d kept in shape because she was hauling ass. They passed groups of frantic people, some crying, others in shock as Red Cross volunteers handed out blankets and talked with them. When they reached the entrance to one of the tents, a harried looking man in blue scrubs stopped them.
Before he could speak Michelle was rattling off who she was, what she was qualified for, and asking where he wanted her. For the next ten minutes, Wyatt watched his woman take total control of the situation, easily merging with the trauma team she’d been assigned to. Wyatt stayed by her side as he’d been ordered to by Greg, but after she’d been set up in a trauma bay one of the Red Cross volunteers asked him to give a hand with incoming wounded.
He waited until Michelle stabilized her patient for transport before placing his hand on her shoulder. “They need my help outside. You going to be okay?”
She barely looked at him and nodded, her attention totally focused on the next patient, an elderly woman with what looked like a pretty nasty head wound. “Got it. Make sure they give you some protection to wear. Keep your gloves on and try to not get any blood on you.”
“Roger that.” He gave her shoulder another squeeze. “You’re doing good, Doc.”
Turning, she looked at him, really looked at him, and nodded. “Just doing my job, jarhead. Now go make yourself useful and lift some shit.”
Her attempt at humor helped make an unbearable situation just a little bit better and he smiled at her before heading out of the tent and getting geared up. For a moment he paused, stunned by the sight of what looked like a never-ending stream of cars pulling into the lot in a long line, each carrying a victim of the tornado. The sheer number of people pouring into the parking lot of the hospital threatened to overwhelm him, but he saw a man covered in mud and debris stagger out of his vehicle about five cars down with a young, blonde-haired child in his arms. Without even thinking Wyatt took off and went to his aid. The man had what appeared to be a broken leg, but his daughter was unresponsive. Wyatt helped them get to the triage center, then went back and pulled their car off into an area recently cleared by the bulldozer. He left the keys under the floor mat and along with a couple of volunteers began the heartbreaking task of helping the
people bringing in their injured.
The rest of the night passed in a blur and he had no idea how much time had passed, but when a Red Cross volunteer finally managed to get him to sit down with a sandwich and a cup of coffee his body ached almost as bad as his heart. He’d seen so much suffering tonight, so much agony, and he barely tasted the food as he ate, his gaze focused on the parking lot. A few moments later a middle-aged woman in stained hospital scrubs took a seat next to him on the edge of the curb and let out a weary sigh.
“What a cluster fuck.”
Wyatt managed to drag his mind off the mental images of all the victims he’d seen and focus on the woman sitting next to him. She looked beyond weary and her blue eyes were red and swollen when she met his gaze. “You’re Wyatt, right?”
“Yeah. How did you know?”
“Your wife asked me to check on you.”
“My wife?”
She frowned at him. “Dr. Sapphire?”
“Oh, she’s not my wife. She’s…” saying she was his girlfriend didn’t seem adequate and he struggled to put into words what she meant to him. “She’s my everything.”
“My name’s Marsha. How’re you holding up?”
“Fine. How’s Michelle?” He felt slightly ashamed that he hadn’t thought before now to check on her, but he’d been so wrapped up in living in the moment that he’d scarcely had time to think beyond what emergency he had to deal with next.
“Amazing. I’ve been working with her all night; that woman is a machine.”
He frowned. “Has she taken any breaks?”
“Yeah, we’ve forced her to. She doesn’t like it but I can be quite the bitch when necessary.” She suddenly grinned, taking years off her lined face. “Though she can cuss up a blue streak with the best of them. Guess it’s all those years in the military. I swear she made half the men in the tent blush when someone screwed up and sent her the wrong blood type.”
Chuckling, Wyatt shook his head, then took a drink of his coffee. “Scary, isn’t she?”