years.
Fifteen
Kat
“I can’t breathe. And my leg…it’s numb again. Do you think I’m having a stroke? Rinata Siclari had a stroke last year. She hasn’t been right since. The poor dear is barely understandable. Oh, I hope that doesn’t happen to me.” Mary rubbed her rosary between her fingers while I held her other hand.
“I can’t diagnose you, ma’am. But I’ll get you to Melville where they’ll take good care of you.”
When I placed an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose, she relaxed, as she always did. Mary was a frequent flyer. If a month went by without hearing from her, then I got worried, as backward as that sounded. She sat at home watching too much TV, convincing herself she was dying. Sometimes she worked herself up so much, I worried for her health, and not just mental.
“You are the sweetest woman, Kathleen. So much nicer than that man who used to come see me.” I had a feeling she was referring to Cary, who’d never had any sympathy for Mary or anyone like her. More than once, he’d told her to get a hobby, all while administering her the treatment he was required to.
Rhea was on the sidewalk outside the hospital to meet our unit. My partner, who was driving, had called it in, letting the hospital know to expect Mary, so they were prepared. We all knew Mary.
“Are you coming to the Daniel’s Peak climb on Sunday?” Rhea asked as I transferred Mary to her.
“Yep. I’ll have Ellie with me.”
Rhea grinned. “Gotta start ’em young.”
“That’s right.” I squeezed Mary’s shoulder. “Take care.”
She waved. “You too, dear heart.”
Mary was one of the easy calls we’d answered. Earlier, we’d been called to a motor vehicle collision—truck versus motorcycle. The truck driver veered into a ditch to avoid hitting the motorcycle head-on, saving the biker’s life, but nearly losing his own. The biker ended up with multiple fractures and a degloving injury—the skin was entirely torn from his hands. It had been gruesome and heart-wrenching, but once we got our patient to Melville, I’d pushed away and kept moving. That was my only choice.
I was tired, though, and still had a few more hours before I could go home. Who knew what else this shift had in store.
We got our unit parked, and I made my way to the kitchen. Usually, there were guys milling about, washing rigs, checking equipment, but the station was eerily empty. At least, the bay was. Once I got to the kitchen, I found my co-workers. And in the center of it all was Devon Chambers.
Sighing, I went straight to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. When I turned back to the group, Devon’s eyes found mine. The devil winked at me. Winked! At my place of employment.
“Why are you here?” I mouthed.
“To see you,” he mouthed back. That made me...itchy under my skin. Oddly uncomfortable, not because he was here, but because this entire encounter was so out of place, I didn’t know what to think or feel.
Devon excused himself from my co-workers-turned-groupies and crossed the kitchen to stand in front of me. “Hey, I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d see what this place was all about. You weren’t here.”
I brought my water bottle up to my mouth. “I was working. Still am. I don’t get a lot of visitors at work.”
He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Your Captain said it was cool for me to be here, so long as I didn’t get my ass run over. That was a direct quote, by the way.”
Taking a long drink, I eyed Devon over my bottle. He didn’t have a cocky grin or saucy smirk. In fact, there was a hint of vulnerability showing in the way he stood with his hands in his pockets, eyebrows raised, shoulders tight. He was waiting to see if I’d smack him down. Maybe I should after all he’d revealed the other day, but I’d meant what I’d said: that wasn’t my fight.
“It’s cool with me. Just know if we get a call, I will run out on you mid-sentence.”
His shoulders lowered, and his wicked mouth regained some of its curve. “I’ll talk fast then.” He dipped his chin to catch my eyes. “Are you hungry, Kat? I brought you lunch.”
I frowned. “You...brought me lunch? But why?”
He looked at me like a science experiment, rubbing the thick scruff on his jaw. “I’ve seen you eat lunch. I know it’s a thing you do at least