Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Brian's first shift with county EMS started at six in the morning.
He'd been awake since four, too wired to sleep. Tessa had finally kicked him out of bed at five-thirty, told him to go drink some coffee, and stop fidgeting. He'd kissed her goodbye and driven to the station in the dark, watching the sky lighten over the bay.
Two weeks since Carla's arrest. The new sliding door was installed. The bruises on Tessa's throat had faded to yellow. Life had settled into something that felt almost normal.
And now he was here, standing in the county EMS station, wearing a uniform for the first time in two years.
Chief Dawson met him at the door. She was a compact woman in her fifties, gray hair cropped short, handshake like a vise. "Knight. Good to have you."
"Good to be here."
"You'll be riding with Williams today. She's been with us eight years and knows every back road in the county. Watch, listen, follow her lead."
"Understood."
Dawson studied him for a moment. "You've told me about your background. Missouri, twelve years, good record. And the reason you left."
Brian's jaw tightened. "Yes, Ma'am."
"I'm not bringing it up to give you a hard time. I'm bringing it up because I need to know you're ready." Her eyes were sharp but not unkind. "This job breaks people. You've been broken once. If you're not sure you can handle it—"
"I'm sure."
"You didn't let me finish."
"You were going to say there's no shame in walking away. That I should be honest with myself about my limits." He met her gaze. "I've spent two years being honest with myself about my limits. I'm done hiding behind them."
Dawson was quiet for a beat. Then she nodded. "Alright. Prove me right for taking a chance on you."
"I will."
Williams was waiting by the ambulance. She was maybe thirty, dark hair pulled back, and a no-nonsense expression that reminded Brian of Diaz. "You're the new guy."
"Brian Knight."
"Elena Williams. You know how to check equipment?"
"I do."
"Then start at the back. I'll take the cab. We roll in twenty."
He fell into the routine like he'd never left. Check the oxygen tanks. Check the defibrillator. Check the drug box, the IV supplies, and the trauma bags. His hands remembered what his brain had tried to forget.
The first call came at seven-fifteen. Elderly man, chest pain, possible cardiac event. Williams drove while Brian reviewed the address on the tablet.
"You nervous?" Williams asked.
"A little."
"Good. Nervous keeps you sharp. Cocky gets people killed."
The patient was a seventy-two-year-old named Harold, sitting in a recliner with his wife hovering nearby. His color was gray, his breathing labored, his hand pressed to his chest.
Brian let the training take over. Vitals first. Blood pressure elevated, pulse irregular, oxygen saturation low. He put the oxygen mask on while Williams set up the monitor.
"Harold, I'm Brian. Can you tell me when the pain started?"
"About an hour ago. Thought it was indigestion." Harold's voice was thin. "Martha made me call."
"Martha was right." Brian glanced at the monitor. The rhythm was off. "We're going to get you to the hospital and let the doctors take a look. You're going to be okay."
He said it automatically, the same words he'd said a thousand times before. But this time, for the first time in two years, he believed them.
They loaded Harold into the ambulance. Martha rode up front with Williams. Brian stayed in the back, monitoring vitals, adjusting the oxygen, and keeping Harold calm with steady conversation.
"You're good at this," Harold said between breaths.
"I used to be. Getting back into it."
"Why'd you stop?"
Brian hesitated. "Lost someone I couldn't save. Took it hard."
"But you came back."
"Yeah. I came back."
Harold nodded slowly, his breathing steadier now. "That takes guts. Running away is easy. Coming back is hard."
They delivered Harold to the ER, gave their report to the attending physician, and headed back to the station. Williams was quiet on the drive.
"You did good," she said finally.
"Thanks."
"Dawson said you had demons. Everyone does, in this job. The ones who pretend they don't are the ones who burn out fastest." She glanced at him. "You've got the look of someone who's made peace with his."
"Working on it."
"That's all any of us can do."
The rest of the shift passed in a blur. A minor car accident, no serious injuries. A kid who fell off a bike and needed stitches. An asthma attack at the elementary school. Nothing dramatic, nothing traumatic. Just ordinary emergencies, ordinary people, ordinary work.
Brian loved every minute of it.
He got home at six-thirty, exhausted in a way that felt earned. Tessa was in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove that smelled incredible.
"How was it?" she asked.
"Good." He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Really good."
"Yeah?" She leaned back into him. "Tell me."
He told her. Harold and the heart attack. Williams and her sharp observations. The kid with the bike, crying more from embarrassment than pain. The asthma attack that resolved with a nebulizer and a calm voice.
"No bad calls?" Tessa asked.
"Not today. They'll come. I know that." He rested his chin on her shoulder. "But I'm ready for them now. Or I will be."
"I know you will." She turned in his arms, kissed him softly. "I'm proud of you."
"You keep saying that."
"I'll keep meaning it."
They ate dinner on the deck, watching the sun set over the water. The new sliding door gleamed in the fading light. The cottage was whole again, the damage repaired, the memories of that night slowly being overwritten by better ones.
"I called Chicago today," Tessa said.
Brian looked at her. "How'd it go?"
"Dr. Leland was disappointed. Said I was one of the best surgeons he'd trained." She shrugged. "I told him I appreciated that, but I'd found something better."
"Something better?"
"A life." She reached over and took his hand. "A real one. With time for sunsets and dinners that don't come from vending machines and a man who throws himself at knife-wielding stalkers for me."
"That was one time."
"Once was enough." She smiled. "I start at the clinic next Monday. Dr. Hendricks is thrilled. Apparently, I'm overqualified."
"You're overqualified for most things."
"Flatterer."
"Truth teller."
They sat in comfortable silence as the sky turned from orange to purple to deep blue. Stars appeared, one by one, and the copper moon rose over the bay.
"I used to hate that moon," Brian said. "When I first got here. It reminded me of fire. Of everything I was running from."
"And now?"
"Now it reminds me of you. Of that first night, when you showed up with your suitcases and your sad, scared face wondering what you’d do and very near to tears."
"I wasn’t near tears.”
"You were. You absolutely were.”
She laughed, and he loved the sound of it. Loved her. Loved this life they were building together in this small town by the water.
"Thank you," he said.
"For what?"
"For showing up. For not leaving. For making me remember who I was supposed to be."
She squeezed his hand. "You did that yourself. I just refused to let you hide."
"Same thing."
"Not even close." She stood, pulling him up with her. "Come on. It's getting cold, and I have plans for you that don't involve stargazing."
"What kind of plans?"
"The kind that involves that new door being very firmly closed."
He followed her inside, sliding the door shut behind them, leaving the copper moon to watch over the empty deck.
Tomorrow, he'd go back to the station. Back to the work that had once defined him and now felt like coming home. Tessa would start preparing for her new job, settling into this life they'd chosen.
But tonight was theirs. And Brian Knight intended to make the most of it.