Page 3 of Vegas Baby

I huff out a breath and look up at Michael. “What’s her name?” I ask him.

“Kira,” he replies in a quiet tone laced with fear.

I nod and look back down. “Kira? Can you hear me?”

Her thick lashes part and her body shudders with movement as she bunches up to rise. Ty and I each hold her arms gently down.

“Don’t move,” I instruct her firmly.

“I fell,” she says in a hoarse, barely audible whisper. Her eyes open and her gaze meets mine.

Whatever response I was about to give dies on my lips. We stare at each other, probably only for a moment, but it feels like more. Like recognition. But I know I’ve never seen her before. I’d remember such a stunning face and such deep, dark eyes filled with the kind of confusion and pain that takes a lifetime to settle in so profoundly.

“You remember falling?” Ty asks.

His voice snaps me out of my trance.

Kira blinks rapidly. “Yes … I …” She trails off, lifting her head to look toward the theater as if searching for something, but winces in pain.

With a deft motion I cup the back of her head in one hand and slide the cervical collar under her with the other.

“This will keep you still until we get to the hospital.” I clip it in and reinforce it with the immobilizer.

Ty comes around to place the other half of the scoop stretcher on my side. “Does anything else hurt?” he asks.

Kira’s tongue darts out to moisten her lips. “N-No,” she stutters. She flexes her fingers and her legs shift. “At least, I don’t think so.”

The more she speaks, the more her Russian accent becomes clear. It reminds me suddenly of a patient we had who hit his head and woke up with a German accent he didn’t have before. Though hers is probably real. Either way, I keep the thought to myself, waiting for Ty to do his thing.

Finally back on his side, Ty slides his half of the stretcher under her as I do mine.

“I’m going to roll you,” I tell her. “Let us know if anything hurts.” I gently hold her arm and lift and turn her only just enough for Ty to get his part of the stretcher under her, then do the same with mine. I shift to hold her head while he clips the halves back together, then we put her onto the trauma board and strap her down. She doesn’t make a sound. I breathe a sigh of relief. If she can remember, and nothing else is broken, those are good signs.

“Okay, Cliff Reed,” Ty says acidly to the stage manager. “We’re taking her to Sunrise Hospital. Is someone coming with her in the ambulance?”

Michael looks like he’s about to ask to come, but the stage manager shoots him a look. “No, we have to see to tonight’s show,” he replies sharply.

The woman, Jeanie, shoots Michael a sympathetic look. “I’ll go find her bag in the dressing room and get it to her in the hospital,” she promises.

“And I’ll let Andrei know,” Michael offers in Kira’s direction.

Kira’s eyes go terrifyingly wide. “No,” she rasps. “I mean … I’ll let him know. Once I’m there. That … I’m okay.”

Ty shoots me a look. But I didn’t need it to recognize the fear in her voice.

“We’ll make sure she has a chance to notify whoever she needs,” I promise, signaling to Ty. Together we lift her. And then we get her the hell out of there as fast as possible.

I’m silent as we load her up and start back into Strip traffic, lights and sirens on and still doing too little to get us away. Get her away.

Something about the whole situation is just … wrong. I make a mental note to tip off her nurse about this Andrei dude, though I know the nurses ask all the “do you feel safe at work/home” type questions anyway. But just from Kira’s reaction, I’m not sure she’d answer them truthfully.

“Well, I know what you’re doing after shift’s up,” Ty murmurs through the open partition between us.

I huff out a noise of agreement. Even with the surliest patients, I’m concerned and attentive. But something in this woman’s eyes, in her attempt to keep others from involving this Andrei character, and just my general feeling about the situation has my protective instincts roaring. And I’m not going anywhere until I know she’s going to be safe.

3

KIRA