“Mathews, we’ve got a call.” Simon’s voice forces me out of my thoughts. Whoever the fuck said that guys don’t daydream is lying because we absolutely do. After seeing Liv, all I can think about is the way she wrapped her legs around me and gave me everything she had.
Christ, I feel like a junkie who finally got a fix, only to discover that it’s not quite enough. I’ll never get enough.
“What are we in for this time?” I ask Simon as I approach him.
He laughs. “I’ll fill you in on the way.”
I fucking hate it when he says that because it usually means it’s Mr. Donaldson or some other poor schmuck who thinks the worst of a minuscule situation.
We head for the truck, and I jump up into the driver’s side while Simon gets into the passenger side. Once belted in, I notice Simon putting in the address to our destination on the GPS. Fuck.
“Seriously, that’s where we’re going?” I glare at him as if it’s his fault the location is less than favorable. I start the engine and begin to follow the map on the screen.
“Yup,” he replies and rubs his hands together.
“What’ve we got to look forward to?” God, it could be anything. We really have seen it all, but as soon as you start thinking that, something naturally comes along to remind us that no, no we haven’t—not yet.
“Ahh, the trials and tribulations in our line of work. The possibilities are endless. But don’t worry; you’re sex dungeon free today.”
I laugh at that; I told him about it a few months back.
He pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath. “So it appears we’ve got another guy with chest pains on our hands.”
Damn it. Well, at least it’s not Mr. Donaldson. That guy has given us the runaround so many times that our heads start to spin whenever we get a call out for this kind of thing.
“Okay, have we got any more details?” I say, continuing to keep my eyes on the road.
“Don’t think you’re gonna have to prepare too much for this one. You know we’re heading to a pretty rough neighborhood just on the outskirts of town. The only details I have are that it’s a thirty-two-year-old male complaining of bad chest pains,” Simon finishes and turns toward me. “I’m not aware of any other details yet, just that his wife called it in.”
“Okay, got it. Let’s hope it’s nothing too serious,” I murmur.
We continue to ride in silence, and I can’t stop my thoughts from swaying back to Liv. I wonder what she’s doing, if she’s thinking about what happened between us as much as I am, and if she’s ready to let me all the way back in again. God, I fucking hope so.
“Shit.” I glance over at the GPS. “Okay, looks like we’re about two minutes out. Seeing as we don’t have many details, I’ll quickly radio in when we get there,” I say, checking the traffic before skipping the lights.
Simon agrees with me, and then we’re soon pulling up to the small house.
He nods his head at me, and we simultaneously jump from the truck and move around to the rear and quickly open the doors to grab our gear.
“I’ll grab the gear,” Simon waves me off as he starts rummaging through the back of the ambulance to get exactly what we need.
I move to the front of the truck and grab the radio.
“EMT two four three, Mathews here,” I say clearly into the radio.
“Go ahead two four three,” the dispatcher says.
“Do we have any more details on the situation on Rowford Street?” I question and frown over at the house.
“No other details,” she states.
“Thanks. Two four three, out,” I confirm.
Placing the radio back down, I again jump from the truck and walk around the back. Simon is ready with our gear in hand. I roll the gurney from the back of the truck and slam the doors closed as Simon throws the gear on the mattress. I walk up the cracked concrete path with him on my heels with the gurney then knock hard on the door.
“EMT, open up,” I yell to make sure I’m heard.
Hearing yelling from inside, I assume they can’t hear us, so I grab the door knob and turn it, finding it unlocked. Opening the door a few inches, I yell out again, “EMT, now entering.”
I open the door wide for Simon to enter with the gurney and gear, and as he does, I yell out again. “EMT, can anyone hear me?”
“You fuckers be takin’ your time,” a woman says as she stands in the hallway. She’s possibly only in her early to mid-thirties, but by the looks of it, some kind of addiction has taken her hostage. With a small, weak frame, thinning hair, and the track marks up her arm, that’s indication enough to know what we’re dealing with.
“Sorry, ma’am, got here as quickly as we could. Can you show us to the patient? Is he your husband?” I ask her sternly.
“Patient? My husband ain’t no fuckin’ patient of yours. He doesn’t deserve your treatment. He’s a fuckin’ cheatin’ asshole,” she screams at me. But funnily enough, she still points me in the direction of her husband. I go to step around her, needing to get to him, but she stiffens, stopping me dead in my tracks when she hears sirens in the distance.
“You call the fuckin’ cops on me?” She points at me accusingly. I take a small step back.
“No, ma’am, I’m sure they have other business to deal with.” I try to say with a calm voice.
“Get the fuck out of here and don’t fucking tell them what house it is.” She twists her hands in her greasy hair, looking panicked. “Just get the fuck out, NOW!” she screeches at me, and I don’t quite understand why the hell she thinks the police would be showing up here.
“Sorry, ma’am,” I say while trying to be as passive as possible. This chick seems like she’s about to flip her lid.
She begins pacing back and forth, mumbling incoherent words under her breath. She’s clearly distressed at the thought of the police showing up here.
Fucking hell. “Do you mind showing me to your husband please?” I ask again.
“I said GET OUT!” she screams in my face. I hear Simon begin to back up the gurney, attempting to exit through the door again. I turn to see him struggling, so I lift the other end, and we literally carry it outside to get out as soon as we can. Once we get out, we see two patrol cars pulling up. Continuing the walk back to the truck, I leave Simon with the gear and approach the officers.
“Hey officer, got a thirty-something woman who isn’t giving us access. She seems irrational and was paranoid when she heard the sirens, even after we assured her that we didn’t call you. Not sure where the patient is, she wouldn’t let us near him.” I pause, looking around at the other officers, “Okay. Why the hell has no one told us what the fuck is going on here?” I question Officer Stark as he writes on his notepad.
“We got a call from one of the neighbors saying that they heard a gunshot. Is she carrying?” he asks.
My eyes widen. What the fuck? “Shit, no. I’ve honestly got no idea.” I shrug my shoulders and wait.
Officer Stark and his team begin walking toward the door but are stopped by the woman throwing the door open and stepping out with her hands in the air, as if in surrender.
“Well, that was easy,” I hear one of the officers say just as the woman reaches behind her, whips out her gun, and begins waving it in the air like a fucking lunatic.
Jesus, fuck. Seriously?
I slowly step back a little farther, trying to get as close to the police car as possible.
“You fuckers needa get off my lawn. You’re not welcome here,” she slurs. She attempts to step forward but stumbles and falls on her ass, yelling obscenities as she gets back up.
“Ma’am, please put down the weapon,” one of the officers says.
“It’s my gun; I can do whatever I want with it, piggy,” she says as she continues to wave it around like a damn twirling ribbon. She sniffs and wipes a shaky palm under her nose then walks a few steps toward the officers and laughs manically.
“We could play a game, officers.” She holds the gun in two hands, one finger on the trigger. “Pow, pow, pow, pow. We can play cops and robbers.” One of the officers laughs. Big mistake—because not even two seconds later, a deafening shot rings through my ears as I see the officer that laughed get shot then instantly drop to the ground. Fuck.
Running over to him, I kneel to put pressure on the stomach wound. Lifting my head slightly, I call out to Simon to bring our gear over. Then another shot rings out and I look over to see the woman standing there in shock after a bullet sinks into what I think is her thigh. She screams, letting go of the gun before turning to try and run as it drops to the ground. As it hits, yet another shot rings out.
Pain slices through me, and I tilt over onto the grass. “Fuuuuuuck.”
The last thing I see before everything goes black is Simon running toward me.