Chapter 8 #2
But I don’t give up, and neither does Clover, even though tears are streaming down her face by the time we get her top half through the window.
“Almost there, babes,” I say, sweating as I adjust my grip, gently wrapping my right arm around her waist. “We just need to get your bottom through and—”
The woman in scrubs is suddenly there beside me, breathless. “Let me help. I’m a nurse. I would usually say we shouldn’t move her, but that fire is bad.”
“Thank you,” I gasp, making space for her on Clover’s other side. “Thank you so much.”
“Of course, what’s her name?” she asks. I tell her, and she adds, “Okay, Clover. What a pretty name. You’re doing great, sweetheart. I’m Jessica. Your friend and I are going to get you out and make sure you’re safe, okay?”
“Okay,” Clover pants. “But I’m feeling a little woozy. I don’t know if I can walk.”
“Keep your arms around us, we’ll hold you,” Jessica assures her. “On three. One big push and we’ll get your legs through, okay? One, two…”
On three, we pull, and Clover pushes. Her bottom clears the frame, but before we can celebrate—or catch our breath—the car shifts, settling deeper onto the damaged side with a groan. Something sharp stabs through my boot into the top of my foot as Clover’s legs slither out the window.
Thankfully, once her weight is clear, the car shifts back to its original position, and whatever poked me sets me free again.
But damn, it hurts.
The pain is sharp, hot, burning up my leg as Jessica and I stumble backward, dragging an almost completely slack Clover between us.
She’s shivering as we help her limp away. I catch a glimpse of her left arm out of the corner of my eye, and my stomach turns. The bone above her wrist is definitely broken, badly enough that I think I can see it through the skin.
Fighting a wave of nausea, I stumble on, keeping my gaze fixed on the makeshift bed of beach towels a woman has laid out on the side of the road by her minivan. As we arrive, the man in the suit relieves me on my side, helping get Clover settled on the ground.
As Jessica gets to work checking her out, he hands me his business card.
“Send me a text or email, and I’ll send the video over.
I’ll testify in court, too. Criminal court.
Civil court. Whatever you need. That guy isn’t getting away with this.
I have it all on video—his plate and what I could get of his face.
I’ll stay and make sure the police have everything they need from me to nail his ass to the wall. ”
“Thank you so much,” I murmur, tucking the card into my dress pocket without pulling my gaze from Clover’s pained face. “I can’t believe he drove away.”
“I can,” the man says in a disgusted voice. “I’m an attorney. Family law.”
I nod in silent recognition of what this man must deal with on a daily basis.
Domestic violence. Children in dangerous situations. Monsters like the man who hit us doing damage, and then running to escape the consequences of his actions. I could never do it. I don’t do well with injustice.
I’m not great at seeing people in horrible pain, either.
Poor Clover. I can tell Jessica is trying to make her comfortable while we wait for the ambulance, but my girl looks haunted by agony.
Haunted and distant in a way that worries me…
Evidently, Jessica is worried, too. “Can we get another towel or a blanket?” she asks with a calm urgency that has the small crowd gathered around us scrambling to comply. “And something to prop up her feet?”
As soon as someone appears with a spare booster seat, she guides Clover’s good heel onto it, then covers her with a straw-covered blanket another Good Samaritan grabbed from the back of his truck.
“Smells like horses,” Clover murmurs.
Jessica smiles. “Yeah, looks like a saddle blanket. A little scratchy, but we need to keep you warm. We don’t want you to go into shock. Not when the ambulance is almost here.”
Her words make my ears perk up, sending relief rushing through my wobbly bones as I realize she’s right.
The sirens are getting closer now. Much closer.
“My leg is bad, isn’t it?” Clover whispers. “And my arm?”
Jessica nods, but her voice is relentlessly upbeat as she adds, “Yeah, but I’ve seen way worse. You’re going to be fine. The doctors will have you patched up and on the mend in no time. Now, tell me about your friend here. Is she always a badass who has your back?”
Clover’s lips twitch as she glances my way. “Yeah. For sure. And she barely makes me pay any rent. It’s scandalous. How little rent I pay.”
Tears stinging into my eyes again, I shrug. “Yeah, well, you’re just a baby. Can’t make a baby pay as much rent as a grown woman.”
Jessica laughs. “How old are you, Clover?”
“Twenty-three,” Clover says, some of the color returning to her cheeks. “It’s just a joke. I’m not really a baby.”
“Sounds like a baby to me.” Jessica brushes her curls gently from her forehead. “My daughter is twenty-two.”
“Mine, too,” the lawyer says, his voice warmer than before. “Twenty-two and still very much a baby. Or, my baby, at least.”
Jessica glances our way, seeming to notice Heroic Lawyer for the first time. I glance his way to see that he also seems to be noticing Heroic Nurse.
Well, well…
Maybe something good will come out of this horrible morning, after all.
“This is…” I glance at the card in my pocket. “Benjamin Davies. He filmed the hit-and-run driver. And this is Jessica…”
“Vorhees,” she says. “Like the—”
“Horror movie,” Benjamin supplies.
They share a chuckle, and I wink at Clover, whose lips twitch. She gives a small nod, clearly approving of my matchmaking efforts at the edge of her sickbed of beach towels and horse blankets.
But Clover is a romantic, no matter how hard she tries to keep things casual in her own love life.
Which reminds me… “Should I call that guy you’re dating, Clover?” I ask. “Asthma guy who doesn’t like to drive at night?” I raise my voice to be heard over the rapidly approaching sirens. “Let him know you’re in the hospital?”
Clover’s nose twitches. “No, but can you ask someone to get my purse and my phone from the car if it’s safe? And bring it to the hospital for me? I need to text my dad. We were supposed to talk this afternoon. He’ll be worried.”
I nod. “Will do. I’ll text him, too.” I’m practically shouting as I add, “As soon as I have my phone.”
The ambulance pulls up, lights flashing, and two EMTs jump out with a stretcher and bags full of equipment. The first EMT—a woman with short gray hair—consults with Jessica as she kneels beside Clover.
Jessica rattles off a list of facts in her calm nurse’s voice, all while patting the back of Clover’s good hand.
“Driver, twenty-three, involved in a side-impact collision. Obvious left leg fracture, possible hip fracture, left forearm fracture, and a laceration to her left cheek. She’s been conscious the whole time, but showing some signs of shock.
Her friend here—” she gestures to me, “is in her third trimester, I believe, and was in the passenger seat. She helped pull our injured driver out before the fire spread in the car.”
The EMT’s eyes snap to me. “Any pain? Cramping? Bleeding?”
I shake my head as I lift my hands in the air. “No, no, I’m fine. Completely fine.” I drop a hand to my belly. “The baby, too. She’s been kicking and moving just fine. Please just concentrate on Clover, she’s the one who’s hurt.”
“We’ll need to check you out,” the other EMT, a younger man with a tiny squiggle moustache, insists. “Make sure that everything is—”
“Please,” I cut in, motioning urgently toward Clover. “She’s in horrible pain, and I’m really worried about her right now. I swear, I’m fine. Please, just take care of my friend.”
He looks ready to argue, but the female EMT thankfully cuts him off with a smooth, “Okay. Well, then, let’s get Clover loaded up and on her way to the help she needs. Our unit is too small for a rider, but there’s another unit on the way not far behind us. They can transport you, Miss…”
“Beatrice,” I say. “Beatrice Nix. Yes, that’s fine. I’ll wait here. Where are you taking her, so I can—”
“Ochsner. It’s the closest ER and a great hospital,” she says as they quickly split Clover’s leg, then her arm, a process that has her whimpering again by the time they prepare to lift her. “Almost done. Now, let’s get you on the stretcher, Miss Clover.”
The pair moves with practiced efficiency, a fact I’m grateful for as I watch blood seep through the bandage on her arm.
God, my poor friend.
My poor, musical friend, who won’t be using her fretting hand on her bass anytime soon.
The weight of that part of the fallout hits for the first time, making my voice crack as I call after her, “I’ll be right behind you, honey.
I’ll find you at the hospital as soon as I can, I promise. Hold on and stay strong.”
They wheel her toward the ambulance, loading her into what reminds me of an old-school station wagon with quick, careful movements. Moustache crawls into the small space in the back with her, and the woman slides into the driver’s seat.
Then, the sirens start up again, and they’re gone, speeding away down the highway, even as new sirens draw closer.
A beat later—before I can thank Jessica or Benjamin or any of the other people who stopped to help us—a police car slides into the vacant spot the ambulance left behind.
Two other police vehicles zoom past us, headed for Mr. Higgins, who is now burning with enough heat that I can feel it on my back, even from several dozen yards away.
“Anything you need,” Benjamin reminds me, giving my arm a gentle squeeze as one of the police officers exits the vehicle and heads toward us. “Don’t be afraid to call or message anytime.”
I nod. “Thank you both so much. I’m so grateful.”
“She’s going to be okay,” Jessica assures me as she comes to stand on my other side. “She’s a trooper, I can tell.”
I nod before lifting a hand to the almost painfully young-looking officer stopping in front of us.
If Clover’s a baby, this guy is a fetus. His golden facial hair is patchy, and his Adam’s apple bobs in his thin throat as he says, “Officer Broussard, ma’am. I’m assuming you’re the other injured party who needs an ambulance? They said I’m looking for a pregnant woman with long brown braids.”
“Yes, that’s me,” I say, before breaking off with a shake of my head.
“I mean, yes, I was in the accident, but I’m not injured.
I do need to go to the hospital, though.
” I motion over my shoulder. “I was just hoping someone could get our purses and phones from the car, first, if it’s safe. Then I can go—”
“I’ll have someone see about your things,” Officer Broussard cuts in, “but I think you need that ambulance, ma’am.” He glances quickly down, then back up, his tongue darting out to dampen his lips. “And maybe you should sit down? Get that up in the air?”
I blink. “What?”
“Oh God,” Jessica whispers, her hand flying to cover her mouth. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I was so focused on Clover, I didn’t notice that you were bleeding.”
“What?” I follow her gaze down to my combat boot.
And the not-at-all-small puddle of blood around said boot…
“Oh.” I stare at it, confused for a second. Then, I remember that stabbing sensation as we pulled Clover from the car. It hurt at the time, but then, like Jessica, I was so focused on Clover that…
“Oh, well, that’s not good,” I whisper, my voice sounding strangely…floaty.
“Let’s get you off your feet, honey,” Jessica says, slipping an arm around my waist. “I’m a nurse practitioner, officer. Help me get her over to the edge of the minivan? By that open sliding door? We can sit her there, and I’ll check her out while we wait.”
Officer Broussard nods. “Yeah, that looks good. The other unit should be here any minute.”
“Sorry,” I say as Heroic Lawyer steps in to help, too. “I can’t believe I…”
I trail off, wondering why my head suddenly feels like it’s not fully secured to my body.
Before I can ask Jessica if that’s a bad sign, the edges of my vision go gray, then white, like that time someone tossed a shit ton of what turned out to be baby powder at us onstage during a festival and screamed that it was anthrax.
Security had to stop us mid-performance, evacuate the area, and rush to make sure we hadn’t all just been poisoned while trying to play music and have a good time.
Because that’s the world we live in. A world where a few jerks seem determined to ruin the good time for the rest of us
It’s my last thought before my brain goes under. I’m dimly aware of Benjamin catching me, lifting me, keeping Bean and me safe, and then I slip into the darkness.
Soft, quiet darkness, tinged with a hint of smoke.