Stoking the Embers (New Adult Romantic Suspense): The Complete Series (24 page)

“Prius first,” Bill yells. “She’s not got long.”

I look around and don’t see a Prius.

“Under the truck,” Bill shouts, reading my mind. I see it, or what once was it, under a beer truck that’s turned on its side. Rescue’s heading that way, breaking out the jaws-of-life. Hoses are on to damp down any hotspots that may popup. We were lucky an NV Energy truck was only a block away—they cut power to the downed line before we got here.

“What else?” I yell over the sirens and screaming people.

Bill blows a whistle as two idiots try to jump a barrier for a better view. They’re nabbed by another cop and hauled back to the sidewalk.

“The beer truck driver is shaken up, but okay I think,” Bill yells, pointing in the guy’s direction. He’s holding a towel against his bleeding head and trying to stop people from grabbing cases of beer lying on the pavement.

Bill calls for more backup and grumbles, “Fuckin’ freeloaders.”

I clap him on the shoulder. “I’m going to help the driver out until backup arr—”

Screams fill the air from several directions, competing with the sound of metal on metal. I turn to see a black SUV bounce off the beer truck, its engines roaring. It’s now heading directly towards me.

“Watch out!”

Before I can react, I’m pushed from behind, a giant heave that sends me flying forward several feet. Pain flares in my leg just before I hit concrete. I roll to break the fall just as the huge vehicle thumps over Bill.

I try to stand and fall immediately to the ground. Shit. My leg. I stand again and limp over to Bill, who’s not moving and has, good god, tire marks across his pelvis. The black SUV is gone; I see bystanders chasing it down the street. Two more pedestrians are down, still as death. Others are holding wounded legs or bloody heads. The damn truck slammed through the crowd and kept going. Right now I have one focus: my frenemy.

Dropping beside Bill, I assess his injuries. Bad. Really bad. I feel for a pulse. It’s weak, but it’s there. His breathing is shallow but steady. A piece of thigh bone is sticking out of a hole in his pants, blood gushing from the wound. As gruesome as that looks, it isn’t what worries me most.

Jeff drops beside me. I give him a brief, “He’s alive, but barely. We need OR now. I can’t do anything for the internal injuries I’m sure he’s sustained.” All I can do is put pressure on the femoral artery above the wound. I press down and blood seeps between my fingers. Bill moans… the most beautiful sound a paramedic can ever hear.

“Bill, we gotcha man,” I start talking to him, keeping my voice steady as Jeff runs back to the truck for the equipment we need. Bill’s unconscious again, no response to pain. Keeping one hand on his thigh, pressing down hard, I use the other to check for additional fractures. Shit. His belly is swelling. I yell to Jeff. “We need a hospital. Now.”

Octavio joins Jeff and they’re steering a stretcher in our direction. The scene is chaos. It’s gone from a bad wreck to a madhouse in seconds. Kids are crying, although another quick glance at the scene doesn’t show any of them hurt. The initial panic is dying down as people start pitching in to help the injured. Bent over one of the victims is… holy shit, it’s Stephanie’s friend, Beth.

The guys are back and we quickly collar Bill’s neck before turning him and sliding a spine board beneath him. In less than a minute he’s strapped down and we’ve lifted him onto the stretcher. Seconds later, the guys are hurrying him to the one waiting ambulance just as additional ambulances begin arriving.

Thank God, back up’s arrived. Although I’d probably been on the scene less than ten minutes total, I feel completely wiped out. Drained.

Grabbing the kit the guy’s left me, I limp my way toward Beth and the person she’s hovering over. She’s winding what looks like a scarf around an injured woman’s arm. Her eyes widen in surprise when I drop beside her.

“Laceration, she’ll need stitches.” Beth gives a report without me having to ask. I have a flashback of Steph in that van where we first met. Scared to death, but helping out anyway. Might have another paramedic in the making.

I pull gloves, bandages and tape from the kit—more appropriate tools for an injury— and pull on a fresh pair. Beth smiles and begins unwinding the scarf. “Looks like you’re going to need stitches too,” she says.

I look at my leg for the first time and see blood trickling into my shoe through a gaping hole in my pants. Damn. I didn’t realize I’d been cut, although I remember something hitting my leg. Adrenaline is good medicine.

“I’m sorry I got your pretty scarf dirty, my dear,” the elderly lady says and pats Beth’s hand. The woman’s husband seems more upset than she is. He’s bent down behind her, massaging her shoulders. “Ralph, for good heavens, Mary and Moses, stop that.” She smacks his hands away. Ralph stands, wincing as his knees creek and complain about lifting him. Then he begins pacing; the white socks he’s wearing glare brightly.

“Can you stay with her?” I ask Beth after I get the sterile padding on the wound and taped up. It’s a half ass job, but it’ll have to come off anyway for the stitches. I pat the woman on the shoulder and assure her we’ll get her to the hospital as quickly as possible. Then I limp over to the victim Gage is working on; my leg is starting to hurt like a mother.

Gage is treating a broken leg, nothing life threatening. I look around. Looks like all the other victims are being taken care of. I stay with Gage.

“You okay?” Gage asks, tipping his chin toward my leg.

“I’ll need to get sewn up. Did you see what happened? One minute we were working the wreck and the next it’s all to hell.”

“It was crazy,” Gage says, shaking his head, his mouth a thin line of disgust. “Big SUV comes slamming down the hill, totally out of control. It hits the beer truck and, man, it went straight for you. Bill pushed you out of the way and got run down. Both sets of driver’s side wheels got him. I can’t believe he’s still alive.”

I shake my head. Bill pushed me out of the direct path of the SUV? Yes. I remember hurtling forward. But damn, Bill paid a huge price for saving me.

When I can finally speak, I say, “I think his bullet proof vest may have saved his life. Damn tires hit him high.” I motion toward my abdomen and Gage nods. “Man, I hope they got him to surgery in time.”

Gage stands as another set of paramedics take over and get his victim into their waiting ambulance. “Yes, but he took the brunt of the impact with his chest and hip. I don’t know. It looks pretty bad.” I think about my friend and how we always give each other such a hard time. “Shit. I guess I can’t take that penalty for unnecessary roughness against him this fall at the football game.”

Gage barks out a quick laugh. “That’s right. And you’ll have to let him pretend to tackle you.”

“Did they catch the SUV?”

Gage shrugs. “Don’t know, been a little busy.”

“True dat, my brother.” I stand and the burning in my leg takes on a life of its own.

Gage shoulders me up, giving me something to lean on. About that time, Beth comes running up to us and Gage moves toward her so suddenly I teeter sideways and nearly fall on my ass. I don’t blame him. She looks good in her little shorts and a blouse that’s pulled down to show her shoulders. Sweat is pouring down her face and neck, trickling down her chest. Her cheeks are pink from excitement and exertion.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe all that just happened.” She looks from me to Gage and her mouth drops open. “I remember you. You brought Steph home the other day. You’re…”

“Gage.”

She smiles and I’m sure Gage’s dick just fainted in his pants. “Yes. I’m Beth.”

“Uh, hello. Injured person over here.” I can’t stop myself. I have to give them hell. Gage jumps back into reality and shoulders me up again.

“Yeah,” he says to Beth. “Let’s get this old man to the hospital.”

Chapter 9 – Steph

“Steph! Steph!” I hear her before I see her. Beth’s running up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Shit. Now what?

Bursting through the door, and out of breath, Beth face is bright red and her hair is glued to her face and neck from the sweat pouring off her. Her blouse, her favorite off-the-shoulder peasant one, is stained with blood.

“Oh my god, Beth. What happened? Are you hurt?” I grab her hand and pull her after me into the kitchen, plunking her down in a chair. I grab paper towels and run them under cold water. I press them to her forehead and place another bunch around her neck. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and make her drink.

“Not mine.”

I’m inspecting her for cuts when what she said registers. The blood isn’t hers? I pull up another chair and sit beside her.

She holds up a finger and takes another long drink. I wait impatiently, my knee bouncing up and down in a frantic rhythm. She drains the bottle and I jump up to get her another one.

“There was a big accident and–”

“You?” I interrupt her.

She shakes her head and takes a huge breath. By the time it’s out, her breathing is more normal. She begins again.

“I was inside the QuickyMart when there was this terrible crash. I ran outside and a little car was smashed under a beer truck. I called 911 and tried to help the woman in the little car.” Beth shuddered and goosebumps raised on her arms. “Steph. She ended up dying before they could cut her out. I just held her hand through the window until help came.”

I had a flashback of the accident scene I helped out with that fate filled day I met Ken. I got up and wet more paper towels and began cleaning the blood off her arms.

“Stephanie.” Beth’s hands covered mine. “That’s not all. Sit down and listen.”

She looks so serious that I do as she says, the fingers of dread tracing a path up my spine.

“While all the men were working the accident, a huge SUV came barreling through the crowd, hitting everyone in its path. Steph, he’s okay, just a little hurt, but Ken was one of the people hit.”

I keep breathing. She said only a little hurt. I almost laugh because he’s such a baby when it comes to pain. The time I spanked him, he whined like a puppy.

“But he’s okay?” I need to hear her say it again.

She nods and takes another sip of water. “He’s so lucky, Steph. I witnessed the entire thing. I was back on the curb by then, but there were people everywhere. The SUV comes roaring through—like he still had his foot pressed all the way on the gas. It hits the beer truck and then just keeps going. Ken had been talking to a policeman and was walking away. The policeman saw the SUV and pushed Ken out of the way.” Beth’s face crumbles at the memory. “Steph, that SUV ran that policeman down. I heard it and saw it. Then it hit a few more people and kept going. Just kept going…” she trails off.

“Where did this blood come from?”

She looks down at herself. “A mixture. The woman smashed beneath the beer truck and a little old lady who was grazed by the SUV. She had a cut on her arm and I used my scarf to bandage it.”

“But you’re not hurt?”

“No, I’m fine. Just a little shaky.”

I hesitate just a moment before asking. “Where’s Ken?”

“Probably still in the ER. They put him in an ambulance. He’ll need stitches for sure on his leg. Might have a fracture.” Beth smiled at me. “You know how we’ve laughed about him being a big baby? He wasn’t today. He got hit by that SUV, jumped up and started helping the police officer. Then he limped over to me, brought bandages and stuff and helped me help her. Then he limped around helping everyone else who needed help. Blood pouring down his leg and he didn’t stop until everyone was taken care of.”

Pride swells in me. Ken is the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. The sexiest. The most beautiful. The strongest. Most caring. Driven. Funny.

“Do you think he still wants me?” I whisper to Beth, my heart pounding so hard I can feel the pulse of it in my ears.

Beth stands. “Give me five minutes to take a shower and get these clothes off, then we’ll find out. We’re going to the hospital, sister.”

I stand with her. Yes, by damn we are going to the hospital. I’m tired of being afraid and I’m very tired of not asking for what I want. I’m going to the man I love and beg for forgiveness for being stupid and scared. If he will have me, I will hold onto him with both hands. If he doesn’t, I can live my life knowing I tried.

“Yes. Yes, shower up. I’ll drive.”

“You girls look lost.” I turn around and see Gage holding a couple cups of coffee and a bag of chips.

“Gage…” I say, relieved to see someone familiar. He’s tall and lanky, built like a swimmer with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He’s also stronger than he looks. I remember him carrying me up my apartment steps after the amber alert hell.