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“Any nausea or shortness of breath? Do you feel light-headed?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, to all three?” I clarify.
The man nods.
“How long have you been feeling this way?”
He coughs. “About … an hour or so.”
“What’s your name, sir?” Fetcher asks.
“Bryan … Lambourne.”
“Okay, Bryan, let’s get you in the ambulance so we can take care of you,” Fletcher says.
“Nice to see you again, Grace.” Officer Janes grins and raises a hand. “We’ll see each other again soon, I’m sure.”
I ignore him and leave Fletcher with Mr Lambourne while I practically sprint to the ambulance to grab the wheelchair. I breathe a sigh of relief when the two police officers climb into the squad car and take off.
Five minutes later, we have the man on the stretcher in the back of the ambulance. Fletcher hooks him up to the pulse oximeter and heart rate monitor while I open a nasal cannula and attach it to the wall.
“Bryan, I’m going to give you some oxygen to help you breathe, and Fletcher will insert an IV line so we can get some fluids into you,” I explain, so he knows what’s happening. I hand him some aspirin and tell him to chew them.
Bryan follows my instructions before resting his head against the pillow and closing his eyes. The poor man is pale and weak. We need to stabilise him and get him to A&E.
“That officer was a fucking moron,” Fletcher mutters under his breath, so only I can hear. He diligently inserts the cannula and saline IV line in the back of the patient’s hand before looking at me. “Are you okay? Seems like you knew each other.”
My hands shake as I strap the blood pressure cuff around Bryan’s arm. “Yeah, I know him. He’s my father.”
ChapterSix
Fletcher
It’s beenfive days since Grace dropped her bombshell about Officer Arsehole. It shocked her to see him at the call-out. And she was scared of him. I’ve seen many sides of Grace over the last few weeks, from determined and enthusiastic to nervous and uncertain. But I’ve never seen her afraid.
Her fight-or-flight response kicked in when she clapped eyes on Officer Janes, telling me she has some very real trauma attached to the man. Remembering the tension rolling off her as she instinctively moved closer to me has my protective instincts firing all over again.
There was no opportunity to talk immediately afterwards because we had to get our patient to A&E. I drove to the hospital while Grace stayed in the back to monitor Bryan. By the time we reached the hospital and transferred Bryan into the capable hands of the A&E doctors, Grace had shut down, making it abundantly clear that she didn’t want to talk about it.
My time in the Army has made me a good judge of character. I’ve met men like Officer Janes before. Arrogant narcissists who live to control everything and everyone around them. Is he the reason for Grace’s “no military men” rule?
He’s a police officer now, but you get a sixth sense when it comes to fellow veterans. The way we carry ourselves, the ever-present watchfulness, the hollow-eyed expression that comes with reliving trauma on a daily basis.
Like me, Grace has a tough exterior, but underneath her bravado, she has a heart of gold and a spirit to match.
We’ve attended call-out after call-out, and every time, Grace has been right there by my side, supporting me and even taking the lead on several occasions. She's a fast learner, often handing me dressing or instruments I need before I even ask. Her confidence in her ability grows daily, and it’s incredible to witness. I made a snap judgement about her that day in the hallway with Craig. I knew nothing about her and judged her sight unseen. But, damn, she’s proven me wrong, and I couldn’t be happier about it.
And in the downtime between calls, I find myself wondering what sort of hell she's been through. Where I shield my vulnerabilities with icy remoteness, she does the same with humour and sass. I get it. It’s hard to open up about the painful shit. But Iwantto be the person she opens up to. She’s cracking my tough outer shell and easing the hard knot of tangled emotions that took up residence in my chest after the accident. I want to do the same for her. That, and so much more.
But then I remind myself that I’m her mentor. I’m here to make sure she’s the best paramedic she can be. I need to keep things professional and maintain my distance–something that grows harder every day, like my damn dick.
Because being around her is slowly driving me insane.
Every day, I resist the overwhelming urge to tug her against my hard body and kiss her plump lips until we’re both gasping for air.
Every day, I pretend her incredible scent doesn’t make me want to nuzzle my mouth into the curve of her neck and shoulder and nip at her sensitive skin.
