SWORN TO PROTECT: An Everyday Heroes World Novel

by Readnour, Kimberly

  “How about we get the correct body gear, make sure the helmet fits, and then I’ll find a place that teaches safety precautions?” I ask, trying to appease everyone.

  “I still don’t like it.” Her voice cracks and the sound shakes my resolve. I hate seeing her in pain. If Nick weren’t in my arms, crying, I’d pull her next to me.

  “I know, but if we start slow with proper training, he won’t get hurt.”

  She frowns, but I can tell she’s contemplating the idea.

  “I promise I’ll listen, Mom.”

  Jordan’s penetrating stare burns in the back of my head. I don’t know what his problem is with me, but I certainly understand why I can’t stand him. The fucker deliberately defied Mackenzie’s wishes and ruined Liam’s birthday. I’d like to dump the selfish tool in the middle of Afghanistan and see how well he’d fare. The bastard wouldn’t last a day. I guarantee it.

  “He’s right, sis.”

  “Don’t even talk to me.” She stands taller, her chin rising in defiance as she glares at Jordan before turning to her son. “I’ll agree to this if Nate finds a safety class, and you promise me no showboating.”

  “Really?” Liam’s eyes light up.

  “Yes, but you can’t ride it until after you’ve had lessons.”

  “All right. I promise.” Liam runs to her and wraps his arms around her waist. She whispers something in his ear, and he nods. My heart swells. They split apart, and Liam runs over to the bike. Nick’s tears subside. He wiggles out of my hold and shoots across the yard to join Liam. I go and stand by Mackenzie as her mom and Stan join the others.

  “Hey,” I say.

  She gives me a sad smile. “I really messed that up, didn’t I?”

  “No. Don’t you dare blame yourself. It was a dick move on your brother’s part.” I want to tell her he’s a selfish asshole who doesn’t deserve any attention she tosses his way, but he’s her brother. I need to monitor what I say.

  “Yeah, but I should’ve reined in my temper. All I could see was red. He had no right to buy that bike without my permission, but maybe he’s right. I tend to be overprotective of them.”

  “You want what’s best for your kids. That’s not a bad trait. They’re lucky to have you as a mom.”

  “You always make me feel better.”

  I pull her up against me and whisper in her ear, “I hope to make you feel really good.”

  That sexy smile coats her lips. “That you do.”

  “When later comes, I plan on testing that theory.”

  “Do you now?”

  “Mm-hmm. I do.”

  “I guess I don’t have to stress about asking you to stay then.”

  “That’s an affirmative, Grace.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Nate

  I’m five reps into my one-handed push-up routine when my phone rings. I would ignore the ringtone and finish the cycle, but no one ever calls except Mackenzie. And that’s a rare occasion. I push off the floor and grab my phone as dread seeps in. It’s one o’clock in the afternoon. Whatever she’s calling about can’t be good. I keep my tone casual as I answer, but her greeting catches me off guard.

  “Nate, it’s Liam.” The shrill pitch to Mackenzie’s voice makes her words hard to understand, but I move quickly to grab my shirt and keys.

  “What about him?”

  “He’s injured. My brother.” A hiccup sob escapes. “Took him out.” More sobs. “Dirtbike.”

  Before she utters another word, I shove into my shirt and grab my doctor’s kit. “I’m on my way. Are you still at work?”

  How the hell did this even happen? Liam should be at school, not riding his dirtbike. Did her brother have permission to pull him out? If that school allowed Liam to go with that man without Mackenzie’s approval, they’ll be answering to me. These kids have become special to me. I’ll protect them as my own.

  And what the hell was Jordan thinking? That son of a bitch. Liam’s safety lessons start next week. The self-centered prick couldn’t wait one fucking week before taking him out? I slam my palm against the steering wheel.

  My anger snaps when Mackenzie’s sob cuts through the line. I push back the rage boiling inside me to try to sound calm for Mackenzie’s sake. I’m anything but. “Do you know where they are?”

  “The Brazen Trail. It’s in some park in the mountains. I’m not sure how to get there.”

  Shit.

  “We’ll figure out the location.” Somehow. “Has he called nine-one-one?”

  “He was going to, but the call dropped. I tried calling him back, but the call went straight to voicemail. I think his phone died.”

  Christ.

  “Nate, I can’t lose my baby.”

  “You won’t.” I have no idea about the seriousness of the situation, but I can’t level with her now. She needs to remain somewhat calm. We have our work cut out if we’re going to find him.

  Mackenzie stands on the sidewalk outside the café when I pull into the parking space. I fly out of the truck and escort her to the passenger seat.

  “Do you know their last coordinates?”

  “He mentioned a grassy field somewhere along the Brazen Trail. That’s all I got from him.”

  “Which direction do I head?” I pull up my GPS app and type the trail’s name.

  “Northwest.”

  “Okay, we head north and then take the road that cuts west.”

  “Oh, God. Why is this happening?”

  “We’ll find them.” I place my hand on her thigh and squeeze. It’s a quick gesture meant more for reassurance than anything. I wish like hell I could take away her worry. But trust me, I’m doing everything I can think of as I take off. “Hand me your phone.”

  She hands it over, and I hit the emergency button.

  “Nine-one-one, please state the nature of your emergency.”

  “Hello, this is Nate Dixon. We have a minor involved in a dirtbike accident with possible injuries.”

  “What’s the age of the victim?”

  “Eleven.”

  “Are you with the victim?”

  “No, we were just informed and now en route.”

  “Location of accident.”

  “Unknown at this time, but in some grassy field next to the Brazen Trail. I’ll know the coordinates once we arrive.”

  “Any known injuries?”

  “Negative. I’ll confirm once I can physically assess him. Is it possible to have a medevac available?”

  “I can call Mercy-Life for standby.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you want to remain on the line until you arrive on the scene?”

  “No, that’s not necessary. I’ll call back when we find them.”

  The GPS leads us to a gravel parking lot, and I whip into a parking spot closest to the beginning of the trail. Relief grabs hold at the sight of Stan’s truck, but it quickly turns to anger. I still can’t believe Jordan took Liam out without consent. Unless Jordan stole the truck, her parents had to have known. Mackenzie has made numerous comments about her mom’s constant need to justify Jordan’s actions, but I don’t understand. Mackenzie calls him free-spirited, but he’s more like a selfish prick. A conman. Mackenzie has remained eerily quiet ever since I disconnected the phone call. If it weren’t for the tears streaming down her face, I’d be worried she went into shock.

  “I’ll pull up the satellite view and see where the grassy patches are.” While the map loads, we exit the cab of the truck. I grab the medical bag before we head to the start of the trail. The map reveals three possible flattened areas. I point to the one closest to us. “My guess is this one. It’s bigger, and I have a feeling they would’ve wanted to ride as soon as possible. You ready?”

  She nods, her gaze fixated on my medical bag. I heave a sigh from being officially outed.

  “Let’s get going. We have a long hike.”

  We sprint down the trail, and I have to fight to keep my pace slower. It’s hard since we’re fighting
against time and don’t know the extent of his injuries. Every minute is critical. But I can’t risk losing Mackenzie in the process.

  Once we arrive at the first plateaued area, I do a quick scan. I almost shout with joy at the sight of Jordan pacing back and forth by the far edge.

  “They’re over there.” I point to where Jordan paces, and we burst into a full-fledged run.

  “Mackenzie,” Jordan squeals. His hands squeeze his hair as he winces. “He was riding and got too close to the tree line. He just went down.”

  Our feet come to a halt, and I stagger as the cruel bitch of reality slices through me.

  Blood. Blood is everywhere.

  Mackenzie lets out a torturous cry that will haunt me until the day I die. I try to keep my mind in the present, but it keeps being pulled back in time . . .

  The moment I spotted Ethan and the rest of the crew walking up the tarmac, I expected relief to flood back in, but the gnawing feeling something wasn’t right wouldn’t go away. But he was safe. I could see him walking toward me.

  Ethan’s eyes found mine. He broke into a wide smile that said he defied the world. I could tell their mission had been successful by the way they composed themselves. That cocky self-assurance he had about him. He closed the distance, and I couldn’t help but lay into him.

  “You, dumb motherfucker. Why the hell would you jinx yourself?”

  “Worried about me, were you?”

  I shook my head at him. “Dumb motherfucker.”

  His laugh hung in the air right before someone yelled, “Insurgents,” and gunfire rang through. Ethan’s eyes grew large as he grabbed hold of me and slammed me to the ground. It took a few moments to realize he lay on top of me as a shield. I tried shifting him off me, but he shook his head.

  “Stay down. You’re worth more alive than dead. No one will miss me.”

  He grabbed his gun and rolled off me. Sitting up, he fired. “Stupid fuckers.” Bullets zipped through the air. Yells. Shouts. I reached for my gun but came up empty. Fuck. It was back at my barrack. I tried sitting up, but Ethan shoved me back down ordering, “Stay down.”

  And in that moment, my life was forever altered. Royce ran through the haze of dust, firing his weapon. Ethan had him in his scope but pulled back. Being shot by friendly fire wasn’t happening on our watch. Everything happened fast. Royce aimed directly at Ethan. I yelled for Ethan, but it was too late. The gun fired, and Ethan collapsed at my feet. I didn’t waste time. I grabbed Ethan’s gun and turned it on Royce. My heart pounded as Royce, the man I recruited, aimed at me. Recognition danced in those black eyes, and that moment of hesitation was all I needed to deliver the fatal blow. Royce dropped to the ground.

  I scurried to my friend.

  “Ethan, goddamn it. You better be okay.”

  Steel-blue eyes stared up at me, full of regret. “Did you get the fucker?”

  “He’s dead,” I reassured my friend as I folded up my shirt and pressed it to his right upper flank—so much blood.

  “Take care of my family.”

  “Bullshit. You’re going to take care of them yourself.” This was my fault. I had brought the traitorous bastard here. Had fought for him to stay.

  “I need help,” I yelled above the chaotic noise. Blood coated the sandy soil. I pressed down harder—a worthless attempt to try to stop the bleeding. But the bleeding wouldn’t stop.

  Blood. Blood was everywhere.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Mackenzie

  My poor sweet boy.

  I collapse to my knees beside Liam, not knowing what to do. His gargled moan slices through me, gutting me to the core. Jesus. If I could trade spots with him, I would in a heartbeat.

  “Momma?” His voice is strained and weak, and I die a little more.

  “I’m here, sweetie. I’m here.” Fuck. Where is all this blood coming from? I scan his body but don’t find any active bleeders. Gashes line his forehead, arms, and torso, but they’re not deep enough. My gaze cuts to his leg, specifically his lower left leg, but I can hardly look without gagging. Bones aren’t supposed to be at a ninety-degree angle.

  I hold back a wince, but all I want to do is scream. Scream at my brother for defying my orders. Scream at my son for skipping out on school. Scream at myself for placing Jordan on the school’s approved pick up list. Scream at Ethan for dying in the first place. And scream at God for his sick, twisted joke he keeps playing on my life.

  You may have taken my husband, but you will not take my son.

  I lay my hand on Liam’s shoulder. It’s the only piece of him that isn’t bruised or scratched. His ashen skin is cold and clammy. Isn’t that a sign of shock? I think back to what we’re supposed to do. Lift the legs. I glance at his mangled leg and cringe. There’s no lifting those.

  “Call nine-one-one now and tell them we’re at the first southern plateau off the trail and to send the medevac,” Nate barks orders to Jordan and tosses him the phone.

  “The what?”

  “Air ambulance. Call it an air ambulance. Hurry.” Nate drops beside Liam and immediately checks his leg.

  “Liam, you’re going to be fine. Help is on its way, okay?”

  My sweet boy nods. “It hurts.”

  “Where does it hurt?” Nate asks.

  “Everywhere.”

  “You’ve broken your leg.” Nate glances at me. “Hand me a tourniquet.”

  I dig in his bag until I find one. Nate wraps it around Liam’s leg right below the knee. I hadn’t even noticed the seeping underneath. Another wave of nausea works through my stomach. What kind of nurse am I going to make? I couldn’t even help my son.

  “Liam, I’m going to flush your leg. You have an open wound, and we don’t want it to get infected.”

  Nate pours the sterile solution over the wound. Liam yelps, but then clamps his jaw tight. His fingers grip my hand and squeeze. My poor baby is trying to be brave.

  “I’m going to remove your shirt to assess the damage, okay?” Nate asks once he secures the leg. He grabs the bag and pulls out scissors. He wastes no time cutting Liam’s clothing. Another gash presents itself on his left flank, but the blood has clotted.

  Nate palms Liam’s abdomen. “Liam, I know it hurts all over, but tell me when it hurts more, okay?”

  “Okay.” Liam’s strained voice grips my heart, but utter dread sinks in when he yelps in obvious pain at the pressure point below his left rib cage.

  My eyes raise to meet Nate’s worried expression. His spleen? Nate nods as if understanding my unspoken thought.

  “What’s the medevac’s ETA?” Nate yells to Jordan.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Shit,” Nate swears under his breath. “I’m not losing you too.”

  I’m startled by the revelation. I don’t think he meant to utter the words out loud.

  “Take his vitals.” Nate barks the order and takes his stethoscope and places it on Liam’s abdomen. I rattle off his pulse rate and breaths. Nate moves to take Liam’s blood pressure.

  “Hang in there, buddy. I’m going to call and see where that bird is, okay?” Nate looks at me. “Monitor his vitals. Holler if anything changes. I’ll be right back.”

  Nate’s conversation with dispatch carries through the air. Words such as open compound fracture and possible spleen rupture make me want to curl into a ball and cry. I can’t, though. I have to be strong. But knowing that doesn’t stop the slew of self-deprecating questions that swarm in my mind. How could this happen to my boy? What have I done to warrant this punishment?

  Whatever the reason, there’s one thing I know for sure. My child will not bleed out like my husband.

  No fucking way.

  Nate rejoins me, and I give him the update on Liam’s vitals. Nate watches Liam’s abdomen while I keep tabs on his vital signs.

  “Should I try giving him something to drink?” Jordan asks.

  “No!” we both yell.

  If Jordan ruins Liam’s chances for immediate surgery, I w
ill kill him again. He’s already dead for taking him out in the first place.

  We keep up this routine—Nate listening to Liam’s chest and abdomen while I keep tabs on his vital signs—until the slapping of helicopter blades sounds in the distance. What a welcoming melody. I sit back on my haunches and say a silent prayer in relief. I may be angry with God, but I still want his help.

  “Liam, they’re almost here. They’re going to take you to the hospital. The ride may be a bit rough, but they’ll start an IV and push some drugs to help take away the pain.”

  Liam barely nods. Nate takes his vitals and listens to his breathing with the stethoscope one last time.

  “His lungs are still clear.”

  The next minutes go by in a flurry. The chopper lands, and I recognize the pilot—Grayson Malone. A sense of relief infiltrates the empty hole created from the lack of control. I may not know Grayson well, but it’s good to recognize someone. I don’t like my baby’s fate being in the hands of strangers.

  The medic team exits and beelines over to Liam. I stand back to let them work. Nate shouts out his assessment, and the reality of the situation sinks in. As I listen, I stand half-dazed, the extent to what Nate says hitting like a punch to the gut. Environmentalist freelancer, my ass. Who the hell is this guy?

  “We’re taking him to Melville Trauma. Their unit is standing by and ready.” This comes from Grayson. I feel myself nodding, but my mind is still in a haze. All I can do is watch as the medics stabilize Liam and load him into the chopper.

  Spinning.

  It feels as if the entire world started turning on its axis at the speed of light. The helicopter lifts into the air. My body sways as it carries away my entire lifeline. My reason for existing.

  Dizziness.

  My head feels as if it’s floating in the clouds along with my son. Black dots impair my vision. I barely register the quick popping sound competing with the slap, slap, slap of the rotors.