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I cup her face and grin. “I’m making sure we don’t fail the navigation training again.”
When I kiss her, the rest of the world fades away.
13
JESSIE
The scent of coffee wafts from the travel mug that Brookes waves under my nose as he joins me in the break room. His nose wrinkles as he looks at the bright yellow walls before sitting down in the seat across from me.
“You know, every time I walk out of this room, I forget about the ugly yellow walls. And then I walk right back into it and want to fling myself off a cliff again.”
I snort and take the travel mug from him. “You didn’t have to bring me a coffee. I should be done with my shift soon, and then I was going to hit up a café before going to bed when I get home.”
He raises an eyebrow and leans back in the chair, linking his hands behind his head. “It’s four in the afternoon and you were going to get a coffee and then go to sleep? Oh, what it’s like to be young.”
“Sucks to be so old, doesn’t it, grandpa?” I sip the coffee, moaning as the caffeine starts to bring me back to life.
“I’m only five years older than you, Jessie. That hardly makes me a grandfather.”
I roll my eyes and cross one leg over the other, still sipping on the coffee. “Coffee and a nap before the next shift is a must. And then another coffee after the nap. Maybe a protein coffee to really keep me going.”
He scoffs and shakes his head. “You’re going to be running around like an electrified rabbit if you drink that much caffeine.”
“You should try it, gramps,” I say, my tone teasing. I shake the travel mug in his direction. “A little bit more of this might kick-start your heart and remove the stick from your ass in the mornings.”
Those gray eyes light up as he shakes his head. “You’re never going to stop making fun of me, are you? Is this the life I should get used to? Being ridiculed for my old age?”
“It might be.” I smirk at him over the rim of the travel mug as I take a sip.
Brookes throws a hand over his heart, the corner of his mouth climbing higher. “My poor heart. It’s too weak for this. I don’t know how I’ll be able to go on.”
“See? I knew it. I knew that you were getting too old to keep up. What a shame.”
Brookes’ phone starts buzzing as he shakes his head. Mine starts seconds after his. My chest constricts, knowing that it’s a trauma coming through. The code pages over the system as we leap from our chairs and take off running to the emergency bay doors.
We scrub our hands side by side in the sink before sliding on pairs of gloves and transparent yellow gowns. I take a deep breath as the doors swing open to reveal the back of an ambulance.
The paramedics jump out of the ambulance, the doors swinging open to reveal a man on a gurney with more blood than I can comprehend soaking the bandages wrapped around him.
“Male. Forty-two. John Lestor. Crushed under an overturned tractor. Crashed once on the way here.” The paramedic rambles off his blood pressure and heart rate while handing off the man to us. One of the nurses scribbles down notes as I look to Brookes.
Crush injuries aren’t something I’ve had to deal with before. Not of this size at least. He used to work with a rural ambulance service. He would know far more about this than I would.
I need him to be the leader because I have no clue how to keep this man alive without Brookes.
“Brookes, you take the lead,” I say softly, urgency in my voice. I need him to walk me through this.
He nods, already looking down at the man and taking his pulse. Though I’m a good doctor, Brookes knows what he’s doing with crush injuries.
My heart races as I look over the man. Though there’s a lot of blood, it only seems to be stemming from his leg and a couple cuts.
That’s the danger with crush injuries though. Even if the skin doesn’t break, there could still be significant bleeding. Cells were broken when the tractor came down on him. Toxins are leaking into his body and soon we could be looking at several different complications that could cost the man his life.
Please let him live. We’re going to save him. We have to save him.
“Hello, Mr. Lestor,” Brookes says, his tone cheery as we rush the gurney over to one of the waiting trauma rooms. “My name is Dr. McAllister, and this is Dr. Karlsson. We’re going to be taking care of you today.”
The man blinks at him, tears streaming down his blood-stained cheeks. “I thought I got out of the way in time, but my legs got caught under it.”
