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“Well, looks like you’ve got it all under control here,” Craig says once they’re done, looking between Grace and me.
“Thanks for swinging by,” I say, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Ah, you know. Had nothing better to do on a Friday night.” He glances at a pale Grace and pulls me to one side. “Everything okay? She looks … upset.”
I summon a smile and nod. “She’s fine. She did great. Better than me after my first emergency home delivery. Threw up in the flower bed outside.”
Craig’s belly shakes as a laugh rumbles from his chest. “Tough guy like you?”
I chuckle. “Not that night.”
Another call comes in from dispatch, and Craig and Sean take off. Grace reassures Katie that we’ll find her husband and convinces her to goto the hospital so she and the baby can get the medical help they need.
I know the situation has taken its toll on Grace. She’s quiet as we get Katie and the baby loaded into the ambulance and stays in the back while I drive.
When we get to Queens Hospital, Grace gets through the briefing and reports her concerns about Katie’s bruises to the medical staff before excusing herself.
“Grace!” I call after her as she practically sprints from the hospital.
I’m hot on her heels, my stomach churning with concern. I catch up with her back at the ambulance, where she’s sitting hunched over on the bench seat in the back. I don't ask if she's okay because she's clearly not. Her breath wheezes in and out of her lungs as she fights a panic attack.
I crouch in front of her so she can see my eyes. “Breathe, Grace,” I murmur calmly, taking her hand in mine so she can ground herself.
“Can’t …” she puffs, her pupils dilated with fear.
“Yes, you can. Name something you can see.”
“Bench,” she says.
“Something you can smell.”
“Y-Your aftershave.”
“What’s your one good thing?”
She wheezes. “Don’t … know.”
“Tell me, Grace,” I urge firmly.
“You.”
I swallow hard. “I’m right here, Grace. I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe.”
Slowly, slowly, her breathing calms. “Had to get out. Walls were closing in on me,” she says a few minutes later, inhaling deeply and releasing a shuddering breath. “I wasn’t prepared. Seeing those bruises on Katie. That fucker’s been abusing her. A pregnant woman carrying his child.”
She chokes out a sob and turns to me, burying her face in my chest. She shakes uncontrollably as her body is wracked with jagged crying that tears my heart into pieces. Her pain makes me want to fight off whatever demons have raised their ugly heads.
I hold Grace while she cries for endless minutes, rocking her in my arms and whispering soothing words. Once her sobs calm, she slumps against me, utterly exhausted.
“Come on. Let’s get you buckled in, and I’ll drive us back to the station. Our shift finished over an hour ago,” I tell her, helping her up and guiding her to the passenger seat of the ambulance.
Grace is silent the whole way back and doesn’t even put up a fight when I tell her I’m taking her back to my place. The logical side of my brain yells at me that it’s not a good idea, but the emotional side tells it to fuck off. Grace needs me, and I won’t let her down.
* * *
An hour later,I enter the cul-de-sac where my house is located and guide the Merc into the garage. Beaconsfield is on the outskirts of London, less than half an hour from the city. It’s a thriving commuter town surrounded by stunning countryside and is my oasis after a busy day at work.
I help Grace from the car and get her inside. She shivers a little, wrapping her arms around herself as we step through the front door. The evenings are getting chilly now we’re in October, so I flick the switch on the wall panel in the hallway which controls the heating.
