Come What May (Heartbeat) (5 page)

When he comes at me again, I swing my legs to the side, knocking him off his feet. I land a blow to his face and he crawls away from me. Reaching for my walkie, I try to call for assistance, but he lunges at me again, shattering the receiver in the process. His momentum hurls us down the steps and into the shrubbery. Pieces of gravel are digging into my back as his hands wrap around my throat. I gasp for air while fumbling to loosen his grip.

“Get your hands off my partner.” Jada is standing with her feet apart, leveling a gun at the guy’s back. Hovering above us, her concentration remains fixed on her target.

Slowly, he releases his hold on me as I sputter and choke on the ground. He brushes himself off and gets to his feet, Jada now clearly in his sights.

“Why don’t you give me back my gun, sweetheart? Then nobody has to get hurt.” He saunters toward her as I struggle to sit up. If he gets the gun off her, it’s all over.

“Sir, stand down.” She flips the safety switch on the pistol and points it directly at him.

“What, are you going to shoot me with my own gun?” He starts to laugh as he moves closer to her. “Be a good girl and hand it over.”

Lizzie pounds on the living room window, distracting Jada for a split second. And that’s all it takes. He charges, pushing her down as the gun goes off. Then there’s nothing but silence. There’s no scuffle or commotion as they lie in a heap on the driveway. Immediately, a pool of blood begins to form underneath them.

I crawl across the property, inching my way toward them. Neither is moving. I grit my teeth as a searing pain shoots across my midsection. I have to get to her. She can’t be dead…she can’t be.

When I get closer, I roll Jada’s body off of her attacker. Her pupils are dilated and she’s covered in blood. I encircle her wrist and feel for a pulse. It’s racing. I unfasten her coat and pull up her shirt. There are no entry wounds. She didn’t get shot. I release the breath I was holding. She’s in a state of shock, that’s all. The bullet entered him, not her.

I caress the side of her face, but she doesn’t respond to my touch. It’s like she’s miles away. As much as I don’t want to leave her, I need to check on her assailant. He’s losing a massive amount of blood. His white pinstriped shirt is drenched in red. I kneel over him and my pants are immediately soaked through. Trying to hold it together, I start to examine him. He’s alive, but barely. I have no idea how I’m going to stop the bleeding. I can’t even stand up.

Lizzie is back at the window frantically hitting the glass. Tears are streaming down her face. She’s completely distraught.

Several neighbors start to gather on the street, tentatively making their approach. I hear sirens in the distance. They increase in volume the closer they get. The commotion seems to revive Jada. Her gaze is vacant as she glances at me before shuffling toward the house. Minutes later, she’s holding Lizzie’s hand as she walks off the porch carrying her gear bag. She says something in the child’s ear and the girl runs into the arms of an elderly neighbor standing at the edge of the driveway.

I’m trying to apply pressure to the wound, but it’s not enough. His breathing is shallow. I’m losing him.

Jada taps me on the shoulder and places a compress in my hand. I do what I can as another ambulance and two police cars pull up to the scene. My body is battered and I try to work through the pain to save this guy’s life, even though he nearly killed my partner. But it’s my job. It’s what I have to do.

“Adam, we’ll take it from here.” It’s Charlie. I’ve never been so glad to see someone in my entire life.

His hands take over for mine on the compress and I relax my stance. Ceding my position to Charlie, I back away, allowing him the space he needs to work. He takes in Jada’s shattered appearance. They stare at each other but don’t say anything.

“Are you all right, man?” It’s Tommy, Charlie’s partner and the other member of my former crew. “Do you need me to look you over?”

“I can wait. Charlie’s gonna need all the help he can get.”

Tommy nods after triaging the severity of the injuries before him.

I scan the area for Jada, and it takes me a minute to spot her. She’s talking to the police officers while motioning toward the house. There’s a flurry of activity as they react to what she’s saying. She watches them as they storm the porch and enter the front door then head for the living room. Oh man, what did she find in there while I was getting pummeled outside?

The chaos increases when a TV news van pulls up to the curb. Tommy races by with a stretcher as they load the guy onto their ambulance. Before the reporter can stick a microphone in his face, Charlie starts the engine and cuts a path through the crowd that’s starting to form. The bastard is still clinging to life. I guess that’s a good thing, but I’m not so sure.

Jada seems to shrink when she spies the glare of the TV camera. If there’s one thing I can do, it’s shield her from the press. Clutching the pain in my side, I grimace. But I have to get to her. From behind, I tuck her arm in mine. She jumps not expecting my touch. “Let’s get out of here.”

“But you’re hurt.” She starts to protest, but I tug on her arm to get her moving.

“I’ll survive. Jada, are you able to drive?” It appears that she’s okay, but I’m not sure. She seems sort of spaced out.

“Yeah, I think so.”

I yank the keys out of my pocket and hand them to her. Entering the ambulance on opposite sides, I slip into the passenger seat and she turns on the ignition. Casting me a wary glance, she asks, “Where are we headed?”

“Back to the station. Just take it nice and easy through the crowd.” I resume my role as instructor in an attempt to mask the amount of pain I’m in, but I don’t think she’s buying it.

“I don’t think so. I’m heading to General. You need to see a doctor.” Her authoritative nature is back in full force, and I just don’t have the energy left to challenge her.

“Fine, but you’re getting checked out too. I don’t know what happened back there, but I thought I lost you for a minute.” Beads of sweat line my brow as I try desperately to stay lucid.

“She was dead inside the house, Adam.” Her voice quivers, but she keeps her attention on the road. “He shot her.”

I close my eyes to ward off the images that are starting to descend. The red hair. The pale face. The frozen lips forming my name. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’ll never question you again.” Her declaration is forceful, urgent even.

“About what?”

“About why this job haunts you.”

Chapter Ten
Jada

I sit in the waiting room of General’s emergency department. Adam has two bruised ribs and the laceration on his forehead needs to be stitched up. He’s all alone back there, so I thought I’d stick around until they discharge him.

The evening news is blaring from the TV on the wall. The top story is the shootout in Suburbia. They even flash images of Adam and me on the screen. I glance at the other people in the room, but none of them seem to realize that the person the reporter is talking about is sitting among them. Thankfully, my uniform is black, camouflaging a lot of the blood stains. The only one who seems to have made the connection is the receptionist behind the desk as her eyes dart in my direction. I keep my head down and listen to the remainder of the report.

It turns out Lizzie’s mom made several 911 calls over the last six months as the violence within her home escalated, but she never pressed charges against her husband. She gave excuses to the paramedics who treated her to explain the causes of her injuries. A broken arm? She fell down the steps. A third-degree burn? She bumped up against the stove. A black eye? She got hit in the face with a door. Now, she’s dead. There’s no covering that up.

I’m in a bad place right now. I almost killed a man. Sure, I fired in self-defense, but still I pulled the trigger and shot someone at point-blank range. I wanted to be a paramedic to save lives, not end them.

I think about calling Jason, but he won’t understand. He wasn’t there. He’ll probably just start yelling at me about why I wanted this stupid job in the first place. He’s already berating me about throwing my life away when I skipped out on college…and him. But I can really use a dose of comfort right about now. I pull out my phone and begin dialing his number when the swinging door opens and Adam appears.

“Hey, you’re still here.” He actually looks happy to see me.

“Yep I figured you might need a ride home.” His shirttails are hanging loose and he’s clutching his side. They probably bandaged his ribs. I feel a stab of guilt knowing how sore he’s going to be while I got off relatively scot-free. Well, not exactly. I’m already finding it hard to deal with the mental anguish surrounding the whole ordeal. But he doesn’t need to worry about me. He’s got enough going on as it is.

“Nah, I’m okay. I’m not going to take any of these painkillers until I get home.” He’s brushing me off. Jeez, I’m only trying to help.

“Well, let me at least walk you to your car, in case you change your mind.” He thinks he’s being all brave and shit, but he’s not fooling me.

“All right, if you insist.” He gestures toward the exit, and I flinch when the receptionist slams a filing cabinet door.

“What’s her problem?” It’s more of a rhetorical question, so I’m surprised when Adam answers in more detail than I care to hear.

“I fucked her once, and things didn’t end well between us.” He’s so matter-of-fact about it that I can see why she’s angry. I don’t care what anybody says—no girl wants to be some guy’s casual fling.

“You’re such a pig.” The automatic doors open and I don’t wait for him to catch up. I’m mad at him now too. My sympathy is wearing thin.

“Jada, c’mon. Don’t be so harsh.” He winces, trying to match my rapid pace as we cross the street.

“And what about Britney? Adam, you need to get a grip.” I hurry along, folding my arms in front of my chest.

“How do you even know about Britney? And, by the way, my car isn’t in the garage.” His words bring me to a reluctant halt.

“Where do you park when our shift starts at the hospital? You can’t be on the street if you’re not around to feed the meter all day.”

Under the glare of the streetlight, his expression is haggard. He’s completely drained, yet I’m selfish enough to pick a fight with him.

“I’m not parked on the street. My car is in the lot at school. I had a morning class so I just left it there.” Oh man, that’s like ten blocks away. We’re in for quite a hike.

“Well, lead the way.” He closes the distance separating us and we resume walking side by side.

“There are a lot of stars out tonight.” He’s looking up at the sky when he should be watching where he’s going. All he needs to do is trip and fall on the uneven sidewalk.

“Yeah, I guess.” I’m not in the mood to banter with him.

“What’s the matter with you?” I can’t believe he has the nerve to ask me that.

“You did see me shoot a man today, right?” He really is out of his fucking mind. He has no sensitivity for my feelings at all. He’s too wrapped up in himself.

“He’s going to be all right, you know. That’s what one of the nurses told me back at the hospital. They were able to remove the bullet and patch him up.” I don’t like how he sounds relieved. Like this is a good thing.

“Excuse me if I don’t jump for joy.” My thoughts fly to Lizzie. Her mother’s dead, and her father will most likely spend the rest of his life in jail. Being from a fancy neighborhood isn’t going to save her now.

“Jada, it would’ve been a lot worse for you if he died.” He steps in front of me, blocking my path.

“Don’t you think I know that?” He’s unbelievable. Treating me like I’m some kind of idiot.

“Trust me, you don’t want anyone’s blood on your hands.” He’s staring down at me with such intensity. I want to look away, but I can’t. We survived this together. We made it through a terrible situation. And regardless of how I feel about his personal life, we share a bond. Just being in his presence right now is helping me deal with the emotions swirling inside. And if I’m being completely honest, no phone call with Jason would have done that for me.

“You’re right.” I’m tired of arguing with him. We worked as a team today. We were pinned down and we battled back. The least we can do is try to get along with each other.

“What was that?” He bends down, placing his ear in front of my face.

“You’re right!” I scream at the top of my lungs.

“Man, I wish I could make that my ringtone.” He straightens up, chuckling under his breath.

“You wish.” I like it when he’s playful, as long as he doesn’t think he has the upper hand. I can’t deal with any of his superiority bullshit.

“From the outside, you’d think a couple like Lizzie’s parents would have it all figured out.” He surprises me by turning serious even though he’s echoing my thoughts exactly.

“That whole neighborhood freaked me out. It’s too perfect. If that’s what it takes to make it in this world, I’d rather not.” The sheer willingness of Lizzie’s mom to adapt to such terrible living conditions sickens me. The neighbors obviously knew what was going on, but no one reached out to help her before it was too late. She couldn’t escape for herself or her daughter and she paid the ultimate price.

“Conformity is comfortable. It doesn’t cause waves or force you to stick out. When it comes to survival, sometimes it’s all about fitting in.” He’s actually talking about this like a rational human being. I have to say I’m impressed.

“But was it worth it? She lost her life and he obviously moved on to the daughter. She should’ve taken that kid and got the hell out of there.” I’m not one to judge people, but this tragedy didn’t have to happen.

“Maybe she didn’t have anywhere to go. When you’re faced with fleeing your home with no money and a crazy husband hunting you down, the decision’s not that easy.” His reasoning is sound, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.

“But I bet if you gave her a second chance to do things over, she wouldn’t hesitate to leave him. Nobody ever thinks things will get that bad until they do.” And as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know I’ve said too much.

“Sounds like you’re talking from experience.” His tone is considerate. He’s not prying for information, but it’s not a conversation I ever thought I’d be having with him. If he really wants to go there I might as well let him have it.

“Yeah, my dad abused my mom when I was little. She put up with it for a long time until he hit my brother. That’s all it took to open her eyes. So we moved into my grandmother’s house.” The trauma of the day is taking its toll. My barriers are down. I’m opening up to him, and it feels so free and easy. Like I want to tell him more about me.

“Did he come after you?” I can’t see his face as the moon passes behind a cloud, but it’s easier this way.

“Yeah, multiple times. But my mom got a restraining order and installed a security system. Whenever he came around, she called the cops.” It’s hard thinking back on those days. My brother and I cowering under the bed, afraid that he was going to break in…my mother screaming at him through the locked door. Pleading with him to leave us alone. Telling him that she was never going back to him.

“Did you ever have to see him again?” In profile, I see him clench his jaw anticipating my response.

“No. He didn’t want to have anything to do with my brother and me. He didn’t seek any formal custody arrangement probably because he never paid a dime of child support. My mom just wanted him out of her life. He left town and I have no idea where he is. He could be dead for all I know.” I never even told Jason half the stuff I’m telling Adam. But the events of the day are bringing it all back, forcing me to revisit my past. And it doesn’t hurt that Adam’s a good listener. Jason never bothered to ask me about my father. He probably didn’t want to open a can of worms he wasn’t able to deal with. But Adam doesn’t seem put off by it.

We’ve reached the parking lot, and Adam’s beat-up Dodge Neon is the only car remaining. “I’m sorry you had to go through that today. I really am.” My heart clenches at his sincerity, but now’s not the time to get emotional. He has at least a half hour ride ahead of him, and I still don’t think he’s in any condition to drive. But he’s not going to give in.

“Me too. I wish you didn’t have to get the shit beat out of you either.” I tap his leg with the toe of my shoe.

“Hop in. I’ll give you a ride back to the garage.” He unlocks the door and looks back at me over his shoulder.

“I think I’ll walk.” There’s something about getting in his car that will be the undoing of me. Silly, I know. Especially since I sit next to him for hours at a time in the ambulance. But this just feels different. Like a line we’re not ready to cross.

“Are you sure?” He’s puzzled, and no wonder. I just spilled my guts to him, but I won’t accept a lift. He’s wondering why I’m pulling back. Why now?

“Yeah, I need to clear my head. And like you said, it is a starry night. What better way to unwind?” I step away from the car and head back the way we came.

“All right. See you tomorrow?” he yells to me, but I don’t turn around. I’m too weak. I’ll give in.

“Yeah, if you’re up to it.” How we’re going to lift a stretcher with his bruised ribs, I have no idea.

“Oh, I am.” And for some reason, I think he’s talking about more than just the job.