I realize now that my father was correct: I can’t ever leave this woman.
She’s the only person in the world that I could ever care for this much.
I vow I won’t run away from her, or any of my problems, ever again.
I am a Stone, by God!
It’s time for me to start acting like one.
The paramedic looks at me and nods.
He closes the doors, and I hear the sirens start.
“Let’s roll!” he says, and the ambulance takes off down the drive.
I can see Lucius for a brief moment as he screams off down the road, and hear the engine roar.
There’s the brief screech of tires, and then he’s gone.
I look down at Vic.
She’s a bloody mess.
The paramedic is working on her.
He looks worried.
“BP 110 over 50, and falling,” he says.
I see the monitors beeping and flashing, and I have a memory of a friend of mine, in Iraq.
I shake the thoughts from my head.
Vic needs my undivided attention.
I grasp her hand, gently squeezing it.
She’s struggling to breath.
The paramedic loosens some clothing, and I can see she’s wearing her La Perlas.
They are stained bright red with her blood.
I stare in horror as I see the damage the bullet caused.
Blood trickles out as he changes the dressing and puts a fresh compress on the wound.
“We’re going to need more blood back here!” he yells.
“I’m hanging another unit of plasma!” he adds.
He puts his fingers to Vic’s neck, and then uses his stethoscope to listen to her.
He moves the silver and black resonator to various places on her body.
He looks puzzled, and then tries to roll her over onto her side.
“Sir, can you give me a hand here, please?” he asks.
“My name’s Evan Stone, Doctor,” I say.
“I’m not a doctor yet, son, but hold her here while I take a look at something, okay?” he says.
“I take it the sight of blood isn’t a problem for you?” he says, grinning slightly.
“No sir, I served with the RAF. Afghanistan, Iraq, other place. Helicopter pilot,” I tell him.
“Well, son, you need to pay attention here, okay? Hold her! Don’t let her move an inch!” he orders.
As if to underscore his point, the ambulance hits a bump.
I steel myself and brace my legs against the stretcher.
“Yeah, like that,” mutters the paramedic.
I’m afraid I fucked something up, but he grins and then continues moving the resonator.
Suddenly, he pauses.
He removes the stethoscope and feels Vic’s abdomen.
He palpates and Vic groans.
He puts the resonator back.
“Turn off the damned sirens for a minute, Paul!” he yells.
The driver flips a switch and we cruise along in relative silence.
“Is something wrong?” I ask, feeling stupid.
Of course, there’ a whole fucking lot wrong, I think, beating myself up.
Why wasn’t I with her?
Damn it!
“Quiet!” the paramedic hisses to me.
He palpates again, and again Vic moans.
He puts the resonator onto her back.
He concentrates, listening intently.
The paramedics eyes go wide, as he listens very closely to something with his stethoscope.
“Holy shit!” he mutters.
“Paul, you double-time it to Emergency! We’ve got a Code 1, 12-C-2! Step on it!” he yells to the driver.
The sirens go back on, the flashing lights making weird patterns on the walls of the ambulance.
He looks at Vic, then me.
He’s about to say something when Vic arches her back and looks directly at me.
“Evan!” she says.
I can barely hear her quiet voice.
Then, Vic grabs my arm.
“Vic,” I say.
I look down at her, lovingly.
Her eyes are brimming with tears.
She pulls the mask off slightly.
“Don’t do that, you need that,” I tell her.
Vic shakes her head, and I try to push it over her nose.
But, she moves it away, long enough to tell me the only words that could possible chill my blood to the marrow.
“Evan, don’t let me lose her! Don’t let our baby girl die,” she whispers.
A single bubble of blood appears in her mouth.
The paramedic wipes it away.
He secures the mask on her face.
I was wrong.
Now, there are two people I care about most in the world.
The paramedic presses the button on his radio.
“Halifax General, we are in route. Patient is a 12-C-2, repeat, 12-C-2,pregnant women, approximately 12-14 weeks, gunshot wound to the lower abdomen, vitals are loose and falling, please advise!” he says.
I look at Vic, her face peaceful and serene.
She rocks gently as the ambulance races along.
I can see the other vehicles pulled over to let us pass, and hear the wind rushing by.
I am again reminded of Iraq.
Of Merc.
The ambulance is pulling into the Emergency room.
It is oddly silent.
I don’t hear the machines, and the ambulance motor is off.
I look to the machines plugged into Vic.
The monitors are all flat lines.
A long, woeful continuous beep emanates from the machines.
The paramedic stares at me.
His face is pale.
The oxygen mask on her face hisses, but I don’t see Vic’s chest moving at all.
I sit there, numb.
I’ve lost everything.
Secret
The Stone Billionaire Series
BOOK FIVE
COMING AUGUST 6 2017
Thank you!
To all my readers:
I thoroughly enjoy all your comments, whether you are loving or hating the series so far. Please remember to review Denial on Amazon or Goodreads, and let me know your comments! Your comments and reviews are vital to the writing process and I enjoy reading every single one of them!
REVIEW ON AMAZON
REVIEW ON GOODREADS
Heat_A Stone Billionaire Series Novel Page 29