by Willow Dean
I didn’t take that long did I?
Turning to face me when they hear my footfalls, I barely even get a glimpse of them before I’m swept off my feet and subjected to a crushing embrace. All I get to see before I am engulfed is a massive red blur.
I would usually rejoice in my adorable Fire Ant’s friendly display, but right now, I’m trying desperately to prevent a scream from escaping my lips.
Wrapping his arms around my shoulders and back, he literally squeezes the life out of me as he swings me around in joy. My shoulder feels like someone has just shredded it from the inside out as the force of the embrace re-opens the wound, causing fire and agony to tear at my insides.
I bite the inside of my cheek as a valiant attempt to calm my breathing before anyone realizes something’s wrong. Sweat breaks out across my brow as a wave of nausea and dizziness overcomes me. Neither of which are at all helped by the game of spinning tops I am being subjected too.
Thankfully, Paladin stops swinging me and just holds me to him. My head drops to his shoulder as I breathe through the pain, hoping beyond hope that when I speak next, they won’t be able to hear the strain that streaks through my voice.
“I missed my Little Chocolate Bunny. I’m glad you are safe. I was so worried about you,” his chest rattles with the power of each word. The relief that’s evident in his voice causes guilt to bubble away in my chest.
I really hope he isn’t mad with me after this for choosing not to tell him that I’m injured.
Ignoring my rampant thoughts, I chuckle at his enthusiasm. “I missed you too my Little Fire Ant.” I give myself an imaginary pat on the back and thumbs up as my voice comes out strong.
No amount of acting fools Paladin though. Putting me down gently, he rests his hands on the tops of my shoulders and looks me over in concern. Luckily, his hands sit just above the dressing I put on, leaving him none the wiser.
“You don’t look too great. What’s wrong?” It just had to be him to notice! He is by far the hardest to convince about anything.
Waving my hand dismissively, I quickly move around to where the guys are standing in front of Lachlan. Avoiding all I eye contact as I speak.
“I’m fine, just a little exhausted from all the excitement. Nothing to worry your pretty little beard over. Let’s get this debrief done so I can go grab some food,” I deflect, forcing a chipper tone to my voice.
“Always with the food, are you never not hungry?!” I direct a glare towards Micah. He grins playfully at first until his face shutters, the color draining from it just as quickly. Oh, I like that effect. I wonder what I did differently this time. Maybe it’s the added pout to the scowl, or was it the crossed arms?
Sounds of laughter bring me out of my internal debate. That’s also when I notice the ginormous shadow that looms over me. Tilting my head back, I catch the towering figure of a giant Scotsman stationed right behind me.
Ah, that’s why Micah looked so scared.
I stifle a chuckle, much to Micah’s dismay, before Lachlan pulls our attention back to what we were here for.
“Well done Alpha Race on your first successful mission. Only minor casualties and no mortalities on our side. You executed your objectives cleanly and efficiently. Congratulations are in order,” he says expressively, giving us a massive grin and looking every bit the proud pseudo-father he is to us.
Paladin heads back to his post having given a few of the other agents stern side-eyes. Looking like a bunch of kids with their hands caught in the cookie jar, their heads snap back towards their monitors instead of watching the briefing unfold.
Lachlan leans against the table facing us as we remain standing. Rick, Aus and Jax are to my left, with the twins on my right.
“Before you go out and celebrate, we need to debrief. Rick?” He indicates for him to start.
That’s strange.
I cock my head in confusion. Why is Lachlan’s face all blurry? Maybe I need an eye test. I haven’t had one in over a year. I shrug the feeling off and return my attention back to Rick.
“Sir. We brought the other team in for backup as there were indications in their behavior that they were aware our meeting was a set up. As of yet, it is unconfirmed as to whether they were tipped or not. We infiltrated...”
I zone out of whatever Rick is talking about as a flush of coldness sweeps over me from head to toe. A shiver jostles my shoulder and sends sharp pains into my neck and down my arm, causing me to wince.
Grunting quietly, I only just manage to hold back the whimper that comes with the intense sensations. Why am I in so much pain?! My head feels like it’s full of cotton wool and I can’t think properly.
I want to tell someone that I’m in pain, but for whatever reason, I know that I can’t. Not just yet. Why can’t I say anything though? What am I waiting for?
Never mind, there are more important things in hand at the moment. Hmmm, hand…yes. Why can’t I feel my fingers?
Looking down at my right arm, I flex my fingers. They work perfectly fine, but I struggle to make a fist and can barely feel a thing. I’ll have to figure that out later too.
Concentrate now, Mila.
“…we managed to subdue them all, but one of them got the jump on us. He managed to get past the team before making a run for it…”
Lifting my heavy head, I try with concerted effort to focus on Rick next to me. Scrunching my face up, I try to make out the finer features of his face, but everything is hazy. Bringing my attention to his lips, I attempt to lip read as my hearing starts to fade.
What’s going on with me? Am I high?!
My vision starts to blacken at the edges as pins and needles race down my arms and legs. Darkness closes in and I can’t do anything to stop it.
I try to call out to someone. To let the guys know that something is wrong with me, but I can’t. I don’t have the energy to do anything. Everything is numb and distant aside from the now excruciating pain in my shoulder.
Clarity suddenly hits me like a freight train. I was going to get it checked out but I kept putting it off. Too concerned with the debriefing to care.
To be fair, it really didn’t look that bad. Now I’m regretting that decision. I should have gone and got it checked out first. It was stupid of me to try and push through, but I guess that’s what I’ve always done best. Persevere.
The blood loss won’t have helped either. Yeah...let’s blame it all on that!
Despite being cold, warm fluid continues to trickle down my arm. I watch as a streak of red makes a path down my hand and over my middle finger before a single drop falls to the floor.
Maybe I’m bleeding again.
Nausea roils in my stomach as a wave of exhaustion sweeps over me. My legs give way and the floor rushes up to meet me.
Powerless to stop the inevitable, I let my body go. The pain I expected never comes though. A set of large hands surround my head in a soft embrace as I listen to the shouts in the distance, trying my best to respond.
People call my name and I want to call right back out to them, but it’s no use. My body is spent and I can’t wade back through the darkness to get to them. Its call is too tantalizing.
Too sweet to resist.
41 Rick
M stands to my right. I can see her in my periphery glancing over at me with a look of pure confusion on her face. It’s as if she’s trying to solve a puzzle, but can’t quite figure out how to put the pieces together.
Putting that aside for a minute, I continue to recount the events to Lachlan until her head drops. I stop talking as I turn to look at her fully, watching her sway. Before I can even open my mouth to ask if she’s okay, her legs go from under her and she pitches forward.
Lunging towards her, I drop to my knees and manage to catch her head just before it hits the floor. Worried shouts and curses mingle together, catching the attention of everyone in the room as the guys crowd around us calling out her name.
Ignoring everything going on around me, I roll
her over in my arms as I call her name and shake her. She doesn’t respond.
Holding her weight around the back of her shoulders with one arm, I feel for a pulse with the other. It’s there, but it’s weak. Her breathing is fast and sporadic and she’s pale and clammy.
Pulling my hand back, my heart nearly stops when I notice the red coating on my skin. “She’s bleeding! What happened?!” I snap at the distraught set of twins.
“Nothing! She was fine. There was a gunfight, but no casualties apart from the one she killed. She was fine when she called the all clear,” Micah stammers out. He looks pale and terrified, but that’s not my priority right now.
Lachlan drops to her other side and tries to take command, but he’s promptly cut off by Paladin’s booming commands. “Medics and a stretcher to the command center immediately. Prepare theatres!”
“Rick, help me remove her clothes. Start at the top. We’ll assess as we move down,” Lachlan instructs calmly.
I unzip her jacket and Lachlan starts by removing her left arm from the jacket and top underneath. Once her left arm is free, I transfer her to his arms and do the same with the right side. I barely acknowledge Jax’s presence as he grabs a hold of her legs and raises them towards his chest in an attempt to return some of the blood to her heart.
I curse loudly as my hands skim over her right shoulder. Saturated beyond belief, I don’t know what I’ll find when I remove her clothes, but if the wetness of the material is any indication, she’s lost a lot of blood.
When we finally manage to remove her top and jacket, our eyes immediately find the crude dressing on her shoulder. Blood coats her entire arm and the right side of her chest. The gauze she taped there could be rung through easily.
Peeling the gauze away, it’s obvious she’s been shot. Bullet fragments must still be lodged in her shoulder as the wound pulses blood in distinct patterns. Removing my jacket, I use it to apply pressure to try and stem the blood flow.
“How did no one know that she’d been shot?!” I seethe, my blood boiling at the fact that none of us had noticed something so glaringly obvious.
She seemed exhausted and pale when we first arrived, but we all put it down to it being her first official op.
No-one answers me. Each of the guys are lost in their own world. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Aus trying to calm a raging Paladin.
Shaking my head, I return my focus to Mila. I can’t afford to concentrate on anything else right now.
As the only one of the three of us without blood on his hands, Jax quickly examines the rest of her without removing her clothes. Coming up clean, slight relief floods me knowing that she only has one injury. Not that it would matter if it’s fatal.
“Come on M, stay with us,” I growl.
Paladin’s rugged breathing and insistent pacing is all that can be heard for a minute until the sound of heavy footfalls and squeaky wheels echoes down the corridor. The rapid response team emerges from the other end of the corridor, racing in our direction.
“How did we all miss this?” I whisper in frustration, more to myself than anyone else. Lachlan drops a hand on my shoulder as I look across Mila’s limp body at him.
“It’s not your fault, son. She knew she was shot. She probably didn’t think it was that bad and put her duty before herself. You know what she’s like. She’ll be okay though. Her body has just shut down to compensate for the blood loss,” he explains softly.
It’s only then that I really take in his facial expressions and body language. Sitting in front of me, he is completely relaxed as he holds Mila in his arms. It’s almost as if we are all convening around the table for a family dinner. There’s no urgency or anxiety in his voice or actions.
How can he be so sure that she will pull through?! She’s been shot and has lost a significant amount of blood. If my conclusions are correct, then she’s had this wound for nearly two hours. Meanwhile, she has been bleeding this entire time.
She’s lost enough blood in the past twenty minutes alone to cause anyone to collapse and go into shock. How she has managed to remain conscious this long, I don’t know.
A spike of fear strikes me at my thoughts of Lachlan and why he’s so calm, but before I can voice anything, I’m brought out of my musings by the medics bursting into the room.
The anesthetist drops down by my side as Dr. Hunter situates himself at Mila’s head. “What happened?” He demands.
“She collapsed. Gunshot wound to her right shoulder. We’re unsure of other injuries but Jax has done a quick sweep and thinks she’s clean. She’s lost a significant amount of blood and has potentially had this injury for up to two hours.”
“Okay. Let’s get her on the stretcher. Cleo, I want to avoid sedating her if we can. Just until we have made a full assessment and have a clearer picture of what’s going on,” he instructs calmly, like this is just another day in the office.
“Sure thing, Doc,” Cleo replies. We’re all familiar with Cleo. As the anesthetist and nurse that looked after Mila when she was recovering last time, she’s an older woman who is close to retiring.
She’s so very attentive and has a lovely bedside manner. Mila hasn’t really properly met her yet, but I know she would love her in a heartbeat.
“Jax, take her legs. Lachlan, can you lift her whilst Rick continues to apply pressure to the wound?” Lachlan and Jax nod at Doc’s suggestions as the rest of the team bring the stretcher to Mila’s feet. Jax moves to the side and takes a firm hold of her legs.
“On the count of three. Lachlan, I want you to lift her and we will slide the stretcher underneath. Rick, I need you to continue to apply as much pressure as you can to her wound.”
“No shit, Doc. Get on with it,” I growl through gritted teeth.
If he’s offended, he doesn’t show it. As the team busies themselves readying the stretcher, he continues to order tests and scans from the orderlies who are lying in wait.
“Ready, sir.”
“Okay. On the count of three. One…Two…Three.”
Lachlan and Jax lift Mila seamlessly as I continue to apply as much pressure as humanly possible. The team rolls the stretcher beneath her and we lay her down gently.
Once she’s secure, I jump on the stretcher and straddle her waist, keeping my hands in place. Meanwhile, the team works around us placing a cannula in her arm, attaching her to various machines and cutting off the rest of her clothing. The machines fire to life, beeping rapidly in a shrill tone.
Everyone is too busy with their own jobs to notice Mila’s half naked form. To be honest, her lack of clothing hadn’t even registered with me until Paladin strips his shirt and places it over the top of her.
Due to the massive size difference, it covers up as much as possible without getting in the way of the machines and wires she’s hooked up to. I send him a grateful look.
“Airway is clear and patent, resps increasing. Blood pressure is dropping and she’s tachycardic. Oxygen saturation is dropping too. She’s going into shock,” one of the team comments.
No shit sherlock.
“Cannula is in. Bloods taken. Oxygen on at fifteen liters. Fluids?”
“Give one liter of Gelo, STAT. Parson, take the bloods to the lab and get two units of O-neg, ASAP. Make sure they have more on standby.”
With a nod of his head, Parson races off down the corridor and we follow shortly behind. Setting off at more of a run than a jog, the team barely has time to warn me whenever we get close to a corner or lip in the flooring.
Unable to put the sides up on the stretcher due to me being on top, I’m currently the only thing holding both me and Mila in place, so I lower my center of gravity to give me more stability and lay my body close to hers.
“Come on, Baby. Open your eyes for me. Wake up for me, please. Please,” I plead, tears stinging the backs of my eyes.
“MUM! MUM!”
Racing out through the front door, I find Mum splayed in an awkward position on the grass, directly in front
of where Dad threw her through the living room window only a moment ago. Still and unmoving.
“Mum?” I whisper, but she doesn’t respond. Moving carefully across the grass, I try to avoid the shards of glass that splinter the lawn. As I get closer, I notice her porcelain skin is even paler than usual.
The old bruising on her chest claws its way up the right side of her face where it lays pressed into the grass. The left side of her face is full of fresh bruises and her eyes are swollen shut and dangerously big.
“Mum, speak to me! Please,” I whimper as I rock her gently.
I just need her to answer me or open her eyes. If she answers I know she’ll be alright. She has to be!
A scream tears from my throat as I’m yanked back by my hair and dragged through the sea of glass. It feels like knives are slicing into the skin on my legs and feet as I grapple for purchase.
“She does not deserve your help, son. Now get inside,” he slurs before throwing me at the front steps.
I put my hands out to try and break my fall, but I don’t bring them up fast enough to stop my head from bouncing off the concrete step. I don’t feel it though. Everything is numb.
She’s dead. Mum is dead.
I don’t care about anything else anymore. He can do what he wants with me. I’ve nothing left to live for.
No. That’s not true.
Someone needs to know what he’s done. Everyone needs to know what he’s done. What he is capable of. He needs to be taught a lesson. Uncle. I need to tell Uncle! He’ll know what to do.
Pushing myself off the steps, I stumble inside to the phone on the stand by the front door. Ignoring everything else, I dial his number.
“Lachlan speaking.”
“Mum’s dead,” I sob.
There’s silence for a second before he starts to speak with urgency. His voice laced with anxiety. “Rick my boy, is that you? What do you mean she’s dead? What happened?”
“She’s dead. He threw her through the windo-” My words are cut off as I feel a hard blow rebound off my skull. The phone drops from my hand as I fall to the floor. Pain threatens to drag me under as my vision spins and I whimper meekly.