Chapter 31
I felt the heat of the blast behind me as I curled myself over Monica, protecting her. Feeling her body still underneath me, I panicked, getting on my hands and knees.
Staring down at her unconscious form I yelled, “Monica!” My hands, covered in dirt, shoved her hair off her face, her ponytail long gone. She was too still. I moved, shoving the sweatshirt she was wearing up and off along with the shirt under it. Both were sodden with gasoline and blood and I wasn’t positive she hadn’t been shot and wasn’t just blocking it out.
“Baby, come on.” My voice was breaking, even as I heard tires spinning on the gravel, sirens blaring. Help had arrived, but at what cost?
Her lower stomach and sides were bleeding badly, lacerations from the broken glass in the window. I cursed, yanking my own shirt off to lay across them and applied pressure.
“Fuck. What the fuck happened?” I heard Lucas’ voice even as he hit his knees beside me.
“Richard, Mike, and Chuck.” I rattled off. “They’re all dead. Jackson is dead. Monica’s hurt.” all my training was out the window. I couldn’t even focus on giving details. Someone grabbed my arm to pull me back and I swung.
“Jesus. Dude. Stop. They need to help.” Nick’s voice broke through my terror. He stood, pulling me with him, to watch as EMTs swarmed the woman I loved.
“Is she okay?” I demanded, leaning over them, begging them to tell me she was fine.
“So far vitals are good. We’re going to take her into the hospital. She’s got trauma and blood loss. We have a full vehicle, do you have a ride?” the female paramedic asked.
“I’m riding with her.” I argued.
“You can’t do that right now and you’re holding us up.” the woman stated firmly.
“I’ve got him. We’re right behind you.” Lucas’ voice broke through my anger and frustration.
“Nick?”
“I’ve got the scene.” Nick affirmed, even as the ambulance sped off and I headed towards Lucas’ truck.
“Come on.” I ordered, as Lucas climbed in, starting the truck and slamming it into gear to follow.
“I’ve got a sweatshirt or something you can put on in the back.” he stated gruffly, and I blinked down at myself, tattooed chest bare. Because my shirt was stopping Monica’s bleeding.
Monica. Who was hurt.
In an ambulance without me.
“FUCK.” I growled, hitting the console.
“HEY!” Lucas yelled, keeping his eyes on the road, sparing me half a glance. “It won’t help her if you fall apart. Get a fucking shirt on and get ready to be there for her.” he ordered.
I glared at him, ready to fight, Even as he glanced at me again.
“Don’t make me knock some fucking sense into you, asshole.” he stated firmly.
Shaking my head, I knew he was right. I turned searching through the bags in the back before pulling out a Reading Police Department shirt and pulling it over my head.
“Remind me to get a picture of that for Monica when she wakes up.” he grumbled, almost laughing.
I just glared at him.
“She’s going to be fine, man. She’s been through trauma and lost blood. They’ll get her fixed up. She’s stronger than she looks.”
I just looked out the window as we entered the town. We sped through the streets to the hospital where they’d taken Monica.
Lucas’ vehicle screeched to a stop behind the ambulance and we jumped out hitting the emergency entrance just as they took Monica past the doors to the back.
“Officer Marshall!” a chipper voice spoke, even as I made to follow where they’d disappeared.
“Not now,” Lucas’ voice was rough, more rude than he’d usually be.
“Um…. weren’t you on your way to labor and delivery?” the female voice spoke more hesitantly now.
I froze, spinning to look towards Lucas who had turned into a living statue.
“Um…Officer Marshall?” The nurse looked between Lucas and I worriedly.
“Fuck,” I muttered, stepping up to my friend. Snapping my fingers in front of his face, “Dude!” I spoke harshly. “Snap the fuck out of it.”
He blinked, coming back into focus.
“Labor and delivery? Where? Where is she?”
The nurse stared at both of us, eyes huge, “Um…third floor, room three-eighty-nine.”
I watched Lucas take off, bypassing the elevators and hitting the stairwell, the door slamming behind him.
I prayed Becks was okay and he wasn’t walking into his own nightmare, even as I turned and went through the doors to get to Monica.
Walking down the chaotic hallway, I glanced into each room looking for Monica when a nurse poked her head out of a room two doors down.
“Mr. Connor?” she questioned, looking at me.
“That’s me.” I walked the last few steps to her hurriedly.
Smiling softly, she spoke, “She’s okay and awake. She’s asking for you, rather furiously actually,” her sentence ended with a soft laugh.
“I said, I’m fine!” Monica’s voice came out of the room, seemingly frustrated. “Where’s Trevor? Is he okay?”
“Mrs. Rogers, he is fine. He rode behind the ambulance with a police officer…” the young, male doctor’s voice cut off, exasperated as he spotted me coming inside the room. “Are you Trevor?” he asked, pleadingly.
My eyes found Monica’s and she stopped struggling, leaning back against the stretcher they had her on, her eyes filling with tears.
“I’m Trevor,” I confirmed, walking to her bedside and grabbing hold of her hand. “Let them do what they need to,” my voice came out soft, ordering her gently. “You lost a lot of blood and probably have a concussion.”
“You’re okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” I assured her, leaning down and kissing her forehead. “You’re far worse off than I am.”
“How do we know you don’t have a concussion?” she asked. “They knocked you out.”
I glowered down at her, even as the doctor’s voice broke in.
“We’re gonna probably want to check that out too.” he began.
I looked up, something in my eyes cutting him off.
“After we take care of you first.” he finished, looking back down at Monica.