Chapter 18 Maisey
MAISEY
Fuck…
I don’t think. I just move. Grabbing my EMT bag, I take off, running faster than I think I ever have in my life. My legs move as if they are semi-detached from my body—like two little fidget spinners attached to a torso.
The crowd parts like the Red Sea—either because they see me coming or because I’m screaming and I don’t hear myself—making a clear path as I run toward the jetty.
My instincts tell me where to go, leading me toward the same slip that the Hooked on a Reeling is always parked in. Thank God for Ewan’s habits. Skidding to a stop, I suck in a breath as I elbow past a volunteer, ready for whatever I find.
I think.
“FUUUUUCK!”
It’s the loudest curse I have ever heard in my life, and there is zero mistaking that voice. If there is someone in this town who wasn’t awake, they are now. All because Ewan dropped an F-bomb that could have leveled Australia.
I jump into the boat, not giving myself a moment to get my sea legs under me before rushing to the front, my heart slamming against my chest, pure panic filling my veins, especially now that I have confirmation that it’s Ewan that is hurt.
Scanning around, I don’t see any blood and am not sure if that’s a good sign or not right now. Until I get around the captain’s chair.
Holy…
Ewan is splayed out on his back, eyes shut, face contorted in pain, legs spread out in front of him. Wait, no. Only one leg is. The other leg is…
The other leg is in the fish box.
“Ewan!”
I rush to his side, kneeling down and starting to examine him.
He groans as I run my hands along his body, lightly applying pressure to check for any open wounds or contusions.
I press gently against his ribs, earning me another groan, and he opens one eye, halfway glaring at me.
Shaking his head, he tries to push himself up, but I stop him.
“Don’t move.”
It’s an order. One I expect him to follow. One I also expect him to fight me on. A fight he’s going to lose.
“I’m fine, Mais,” he croaks, his voice thick and gravelly. “Although I like the bossy tone.”
Called it…
“Well, you’re about to get a lot fucking more of it, and you are not going to like it if you move,” I snap, my panic still in overdrive.
Landon slides up behind me and I hear him let out a single chuckle, no doubt over wondering how this happened, but I ignore him, focusing on doing all the necessary checks to verify we’re not dealing with a major spinal or head injury. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Three,” Ewan answers correctly. “Although behind you I think Landon is making me an offer I’d prefer to refuse.”
I spin around, catching Landon flipping him the bird. Swatting at Landon’s legs, and earning more laughter from both of the guys, I turn back to Ewan.
“What happened?”
“Am I allowed to sit up to tell this story?”
“No.”
“I tried.” Ewan lets out a long exhale. “I grabbed ice for the fish box, and was bringing it on to fill it up and didn’t realize the door was open…”
I look down at his leg, half hanging in the cooler that is built into the hull of the boat.
Sure enough, there is some ice already down in the fish box, but not enough that it’s flush with the floor of the boat.
If the lid was open…well, it doesn’t take much for my mind to put the rest together.
The open bag and ice chunks scattered around the boat deck also corroborate said story.
Two and two are definitely four here.
“My hands were full, and I stepped right in it, and down I went.”
“Did you hit your head?” I ask.
That’s my biggest concern. Because if we’re dealing with a head injury…
My pulse skips, nurse brain taking over, trying to remind myself that Ewan is exceptionally coherent at the moment so the likelihood of a TBI is probably pretty slim.
Then again, I’ve experienced patients participating in a full-on conversation with me one minute, and then be out cold the next, so never say never. I know better.
“I hit my ass. It’s my foot that fucking hurts. I laid down after the fact.”
Looking up at Landon, I search his eyes for confirmation that he’s thinking what I’m thinking.
He nods, the two of us secretly agreeing that we aren’t going to need the backboard that he carried over here.
A CT scan—without question, because mama here isn’t messing about—but I’m confident we’re not at risk for paralysis.
I turn back to Ewan, helping him sit up slowly. His face is still bright red, the pain clear as day, so I cup his cheek, hoping it offers a little comfort.
He places his hand over mine, holding it against his cheek. The contact is both soft and sharp, a weird mix of exciting and calming, making my racing pulse ease. Ewan is okay. Well, bruised and potentially broken, but overall okay.
“You fell through a hole in the boat.” I giggle. “Jace is going to have a field day with this, you know that, right? You’re about to become one of his what not to wear videos.”
Ewan rolls his eyes, letting out another very annoying noise. “Do we have to tell him?”
“I’d be willing to keep your secret, buddy,” Landon says as he lifts Ewan’s injured leg out of the fish box and rests it on a rolled-up towel. The disturbed ice settles underneath him, the crunching sound filling the air.
“Fuck!” Ewan’s curse is sharp and loud, no doubt from the pain the movement caused.
“But this is gonna require X-rays, so we’re gonna have to carry you outta here and—”
“You’re not carrying me anywhere. I’m fine.”
Excuse you?!
I shoot him a look. “I don’t think so. You are going to listen to the medical professionals.”
“I’m fine,” he reiterates.
The fuck you are…
“Best I can offer is to hold you up and let you hop your way to the ambulance so we can—” Landon starts.
“Absolutely not. Just wrap it up and it’ll be fine. We can go after the tournament is over.”
Fire rises in me. I know this man is stubborn—it’s how we’ve gotten ourselves into many situations in the past. Including spending ten years apart.
But if he thinks for one second that he’s going to get away with refusing medical treatment so that he can hang out at a fishing tournament… Well, Ewan Hayes—think again.
“The fuck we can.” My voice is louder than I intend, but I don’t care. Landon reels back, hands flying up in surrender, giving us space. “Your ass is going and it’s going now. Landon might be willing to make deals with you, but I am not. Is that understood?”
Ewan’s eyes darken, his mouth morphing into a smirk that a few minutes ago would have seemed impossible. Reaching for me, he wraps an arm around me, tugging me into him. I go willingly, my heart so happy that all we’re dealing with is X-rays and a CT scan that I can’t even put it into words.
I collapse into him, burying my face into his shoulder, inhaling his scent, and letting myself get lost in him. His breath tickles my skin, and I can tell he’s getting lost in our embrace as well.
“Okay, baby. Okay,” he whispers. Loosening his grip on me, he presses his lips to my forehead, making the knot I didn’t realize had formed in my chest unfurl. “Also, Mais?”
“Yeah?”
“I really love watching you in action.”