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“I’m fine. It’s not my blood,” she said, pressing harder against the man’s leg. But she wasn’t fine at all. Don’t die. Please don’t die.
Maybe Boone heard the desperation in her voice, since he asked, “What can I help you with?”
“You can get me an ambulance. He needs a surgeon.” She squinted against the sun’s rays to catch his smoky blue eyes. “He doesn’t have long—”
Sirens suddenly cut through the sunny day, and Peyton said a silent thank-you to whoever was listening. “Do you hear that, sir? They’re coming for you,” she said to the man. “You’re going to go home after this, to wherever that might be, to whoever you love.”
Tears filled her eyes and she could do nothing to stop them. He would live another day, and she helped that happen. Relief eased the tension in her chest, time returning to normal speed, making her more aware of her surroundings. She pressed harder against the wound, seeing that the tourniquet was slowing the bleeding a little, and hoped that gave him the minute he needed to get to the hospital. The ambulance came to a stop behind them, the flashing lights still on, the siren now silent. Two men were out a second later, wearing blue uniforms and carrying bags of gear on top of a stretcher.
Boone stepped back out of the way.
“What have you got?” the paramedic on her right asked when they reached her.
“Two patients,” she began, sliding right into emergency nurse mode. “One fatality. Crushed and pinned in the vehicle. Vital signs absent.
One patient with injuries to his leg with arterial bleeding. I suspect he’s already lost close to three liters.”
“All right,” the other paramedic said, pressing his hand over Peyton’s. “I’ve got him now.”
Peyton slid her hand out from between blood and clothing while she watched the other paramedic apply a proper tourniquet, tossing her blood-soaked T-shirt onto the road.
She glanced down at herself. Blood covered every inch of her skin, but she knew none of that was hers. She glanced behind her, surveying the scene and wondered if this was what Adam’s accident had looked like. Wreckage everywhere, the scent of burning metal, of blood and death; it was so rich in the air Peyton could barely breathe.
“Here, let’s get this on you.”
Boone’s voice was a warm comfort as he removed his T-shirt and slipped it over her head before squatting next to her.
She stared at her hands, covered in blood. “My hands won’t stop shaking.” No, wait not just her hands—everywhere.
“It’s the adrenaline. You’re going into shock,” Boone said, gathering her in his arms and holding her close. “I’ve got you.”
She kept her arms tight against her chest, leaning into his warmth. “I’ve never had this happen before.” Even her voice shook. Though she knew she wasn’t the same nurse she’d been. She might have saved a life today—maybe…hopefully—but she wanted to run from the scene the whole time, not stay. Her mind had been blurry, not sharp.
His arms only tightened. “You did a damn good job, Peyton.”
She blinked, realizing Rhett was sidling up to them. He tossed a navy-blue T-shirt at Boone.
Boone released her to throw it on, and the shirt had STONEY CREEK PD on the front. She felt cold and tired when Boone turned his attention onto her again and cupped her face. “What happened?”
It took a moment to remember. Sirens filled the air as more police and the fire department arrived, and she just couldn’t stop shaking. “An SUV had been following me.” Yeah, she remembered that. “He’d been close.” Boone wiped her cheeks, and she hadn’t realized she was crying. “Then he passed me and hit the truck, sending it spinning.”
Boone glanced up at Rhett, who shook his head. “No SUV here.”
“You sure it was an SUV?” Boone asked Peyton.
She nodded. “Without a doubt. A black SUV. There was a single driver.”
Boone exchanged a long look with Rhett, who finally gave a nod. “I’ll look into it.” He was off in the opposite direction of the accident.
The sun bore down on them, and Peyton became acutely aware that she was freezing cold and that the warm rays did nothing to heat her up.
Boone gathered her in his arms again, rubbing her back. “Are you hurt at all?”
“No.” She leaned away, hugging herself, and glanced at her car. “I didn’t get hit.” When she looked back at Boone, she realized he was covered in blood now too, meaning she was more soaking wet than she knew. “I thought I was going to hit the truck.” Her voice came out strangled, not even sounding like her own. “But the SUV suddenly hit the truck. I think it hit the car in front of it and that changed its spin…I stopped, and the cab barely missed me.”
Boone swiped a hand across her cheek, and she felt the warm wetness of her tears between them. “Someone’s looking out for you. There’s no other way to understand this.” Boone turned her slightly and whispered in her ear, “Look at what you survived, Peyton, and your car doesn’t have a scratch on it.”
She scanned the area and heard a choked sob escape her mouth. What once was a car was now pieces of metal. What once was a truck was broken into shards along the road. “I shouldn’t have survived this,” she whispered.
