Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Owen
Saturday is usually a day off for me, but during football season, I take extra shifts to make up for the time I miss coaching.
Not that my sergeants require it. The department sees my high school coaching as good for the community and incorporate my hours with the team into my patrol schedule.
Still, I know my being away in the afternoons means that others have to cover my shift. I like to pay guys back when I can.
But today, I wish I hadn’t. It’s too nice out to waste the day driving around town in my patrol car.
It’s fall, and that means before you know it, things will turn cold, and snow will cover the ground.
I should be on a hike with Maui. Instead, I'm at work, doing my best to distract myself from thinking about Daisy’s date.
So far, I’ve taken two reports of shoplifting, dealt with neighbors feuding over a stolen yard gnome.
I found a runaway down by the river and convinced her to go home.
And at the moment, I’m parked on the edge of town in a shady spot, listening to my radio for calls to come through while I finish my report for a car crash in the Orchard District.
Today has been what I like to call steady and petty.
No major crimes and no serious injuries. I’ll take it.
Focused on my report, my fingers stop, and my heartbeat follows suit when a call comes across my radio.
“Deschutes County Fire en route to medical call at Smith Rock State Park. Female. Early thirties. Fallen off cliffside. Unconscious. Possible injury to the lower extremity.”
No, no, no, no.
Without giving it a second thought, I flip on my lights and sirens and put my vehicle in drive.
I know in my gut who this call is about.
My pulse races as I guide my car out of the city limits.
Ignoring everything else on my radio, listening only for updates on the fallen hiker as I stare out my windshield, seeing nothing.
I’m driving at the speed of light, but it isn’t fast enough.
My need to get to her is the only thing that matters.
Arriving at the park much faster than is legal, I pull in just as the fire team begins their hike to get to her.
County police pull in behind me. Shutting off my car, I bolt out of my driver's side door, not giving the other officers a second glance. I’ve caught up to the fire guys just as they reach the injured person surrounded by a small crowd of fellow hikers.
When I reach her, she’s on the ground with a woman holding her hand and giving her assurances. A sharp pain jolts through my chest. My stomach churns to see my four-leaf clover sprawled across the rocks.
Forcing my way through the bystanders and other men in uniform there to assist, I land on my knees beside her. Confusion washes over her face.
“Owen?”
I take her hand in mine. My thumb runs circles over the tiny constellation of stars tattooed on her wrist. “I’m here, Clover. I’m here.”
“But how?”
We’re interrupted when Noah, a fireman I went to school with and who recognizes Daisy, steps in. “Miss, can you tell me your name?”
He knows her name. This is a test to see how hard she hit her head.
“Daisy McKinnon. Hey, Noah.”
“Hey, Daisy. Can you tell me what day it is?”
“Saturday.”
“Good.” He flashes a light in her eyes to check for a concussion, which there is no doubt she has. “Does your head hurt?”
“You could say that.”
“On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst, how bad does it feel?”
“Like I just fell off the side of a cliff and landed on my head, bad.”
Even in the most serious of times, there are no simple answers where this woman is concerned.
Noah chuckles and turns to the woman who had so kindly been waiting at Daisy’s side. “Do you know how long she was unconscious?”
“About two minutes.”
Fuck.
I’m glad Noah is in control because I’m a fucked-up mess. “Daisy, does anything else hurt?” he asks.
“My ankle doesn’t feel so great.”
Cynthia, an EMT who rides with the fire team, is looking at her leg when Daisy tugs on the hand I’m still holding. “Do not call my family or the girls.”
“Dais, they would kill me if they—”
“No,” she interrupts me. “Not yet. Promise me?”
There’s no way I could deny her anything right now. I would go to war for her is she asked me to. “I promise. But I’m not leaving your side.”
She gives me the smallest of nods and another squeeze of my hand.
Deputy Norris from the county steps in to ask questions. “Are you here by yourself or is there someone here with you?”
She tries to turn her head, but we all urge her to stop as soon as she does. We can’t be too careful about neck injuries until we know more about her condition. “Uh, I was here with a guy named Wesley. Is he not here?”
Nobody steps forward, but the slim blonde woman who helped her and apparently called 9-1-1 motions to the officer. Turning their backs on the rest of us, they talk quietly. When Norris steps out of earshot and speaks into his radio, I know in my bones that if I ever meet Wesley, I’ll kill him.
The officer returns and asks her more questions about Wesley and if she remembers what happened when she fell. She remembers nothing but thinks she must have twisted her ankle. The look on the face of the woman I now know as Kristel reveals that Daisy’s assumption is far from correct.
The first responders carefully strap Daisy to a gurney and volley between calmly assuring her she’s going to be fine and firing off more questions about her date.
Even through my worry over Daisy, I etch his name, his description, the car he was driving, and every detail shared about the asshole who fled the scene into my memory bank.
The bastard didn’t even stick around to make sure she was okay.
He’s a piece of shit.
It kills me not to go in the ambulance with her, but I’ve got my patrol car and can’t leave it. I promise to follow right behind her, and when the ambulance doors close and she can’t see me, I lean forward with my hands on my knees and take steadying breaths.
I’m grateful she’s okay. At the same time scared shitless, because this overwhelming pressure on my chest only proves one thing.
I can’t live without her.