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It took less than thirty seconds to have Fleet positioned, on his back, in the conveyance the rescue team would carry down the mountain. He was looking paler and paler—at least to Talia’s eyes—by the minute, and she instinctively knew that time was of the essence. She reached out and grasped his still hand. “You’re going to be okay, Fleet. We’ve got you.”
“Let’s move, people,” Mason barked, taking one end of the litter while Cisco immediately took the other. They began to hoof it toward the trail head. Was it Talia’s imagination, or had both Doug and Brian the EMT shuffled back when it came time to transport?Damn them. They better step up and do their job when it came their time to carry.
Holden took quick vitals on Fleet as he jogged beside the stretcher. “Blood pressure is low; heart rate is rapid. With a stroke, I’d expect high blood pressure,” He shook his head. “That leans us toward an aneurysm. We need to pick up the pace.”
Everyone began quick-stepping-it down the mountain, faster than normal, but still not quickly enough for Talia. But she understood. In the long run, losing their footing was not something that would be good for Fleet.
If Talia thought the hike up the mountain had seemed long, the trip down the steep inclines seemed interminable. She kept a hold of Fleet’s hand whenever the path was wide enough, but often times there was only enough room for the stretcher, and all she could do was watch Fleet’s face and worry. There hadn’t been a twitch from the prone man; no indication he knew where he was, or that anyone had come to his rescue. There were no overt signs of life except the rising and falling of his chest, on which Talia kept a very close watch.
When the first pair of bearers changed out for a second, she wasn’t quite ready to trust herself to be a carrier, but at the third shift change, she felt more herself, and spelled Jess at Fleet’s head, while Azis stepped in for Holden. She noted that Doug and Brian still hadn’t offered to take a turn.
“How much farther?” Talia finally asked as her muscles began to burn, unable to keep her worry to herself.
“Maybe a mile,” Mason told her. “We’ve made good time, but on this terrain, I’d say we have at least another twenty minutes.”
That wasn’t what Talia wanted to hear. She needed Fleet in the ambulance. She needed him in the hospital. Hell, she needed him anywhere but on the side of a fucking mountain with God-knows-what going on inside his cranium.
When the ground leveled out, she lowered her head to Fleet’s and spoke to him, hoping somehow he could hear her.
“Fleet. I need you to hang in there. I need you to get better. I…”Fuck it.She didn’t give a shit who heard her. At this juncture it was all about him. If there was any way he was listening…
“I blew it last night, and I’m sorry,” she began. “I didn’t mean to try to question you and your agenda, but I’m used to having things happen the way I want, and for that, I’m sorry. If you want to proceed in a manner that’s better for you, I’m good with that. I just want to…keep seeing you and find out where things can go between us. Once you’re on your feet, we can have a do-over of our date last night, and I’ll let you have your way. I promise.”
There.At least she’d gotten that off her chest, and even if Doug and Brian were looking at her askance?Fuck them.Doug, she knew, didn’t date because he had that negative thing going regarding women, and Brian? She didn’t know what his problem was, but it wasn’t hers, and she didn’t give a shit. Talia would probably have only limited contact with the man during future emergencies, so his sour puss was a non-issue.
What she didn’t expect was Doug’s growl.
“Did the bastard try to force himself on you?” Doug asked through tight lips, looking all kinds of angry.
Huh?Concern? For her?That was damned strange, coming out of this man’s mouth, but considering what he’d suffered at the hands of his fucked-up mother, Talia he must relate toanypotential victim.
“No, Doug,” she kept her voice even. “It was actually just the opposite. I was ready for a little more, but Fleet let me know he wanted to take things slowly. I thought…” Should she go here? Why not? It might make Doug uncomfortable, but she wasn’t going to prevaricate. “I thought he was backing off because I have a tendency to be…aggressive, so I took that personally.” She gave a self-deprecating snort. “Not only didn’t I listen to his reasons when he tried to explain, I insinuated that if I couldn’t have what I wanted, I didn’t want to see him again.”
Doug’s eyes narrowed. “You wanted to fuck him, and he wasn’t into it?” Doug bit out, clearly also not caring who was listening.
“I didn’t want to go that far,” Talia responded, feeling color come up her face at the bluntness of his assertion. “But I wanted a little more at that point than he was willing to give.”
“So did you back off?” Doug continued. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were looking beyond her as if he was seeing something in his own very fucked up past.
“I did,” she assured him. “Because I’m a bitch, not an asshole.”
Talia leaned down to place a light kiss on Fleet’s forehead, letting her regrets show even more. “I just want him to wake up so I can prove to him I’m sorry.”
Doug didn’t respond, and that was okay. Talia didn’t know whether the conversation had helped, or fucked him up even more. She guessed she’d find out, eventually. She didn’t knowwhatshe’d expected. That he’d open up, as she had, amongst strangers? It didn’t happen, but she became hopeful that some headway might have been made. When they reached their final half mile and stopped briefly, Doug took one end of the litter.
Not so, Brian, who stood back and let Mason rotate in again.
Now there was a real asshole.
CHAPTERSEVEN
Fleet edged into awareness and had no idea where he was. The beeping almost said he was in his studio having a mixing issue, but… It wasn’t exactly that kind of beeping, and…his eyes didn’t want to open. He tried to think. A difficult task because he was having one of his killer headaches again.
Only this one…felt different.
He attempted to reach his hand up to rub the area of pain but couldn’t quite make his muscles work. After a few attempts, he depleted whatever reserves of energy he had, and found himself drifting off. That was okay. He clearly needed sleep and wasn’t going to be much good in the studio today with his head coming off. It was just a shame he had to fall asleep at work. Being in his bed would have afforded a much more refreshing night. But damned if he could get up to move to his apartment.
“Fleet?”
