Page 63 of The Enforcer

After a brief pause, Prez nods. I raise an eyebrow at him, wanting more than what he’s giving me. A sigh leaves his mouth as he says, “I didn’t see much. A few burns, I think. But he’s alive and breathing. That’s all I know. We can ask the docs when we get to the hospital.”

Knowing I have no other choice, I nod, putting the mask back on my face, trying to take a deep breath without coughing.

We make it to the hospital in less than fifteen minutes and I’m offloaded from the back of the ambulance. I’m mostly okay now, but the paramedics still rush me inside, depositing me into an empty bay.

Shortly after, a doctor comes in, looking at my chart to read whatever the paramedics wrote when I was in the back of the ambulance. “I’m Dr. Sams. I’m the emergency room physician tonight. How are you doing?”

“Fucking shitty, doc,” I rasp, coughing as I try to sit up.

“Relax, Mr. Martin. Just take it easy and let me do my examination.”

From there, he has me remove my clothes and checks me over to make sure I’m free of burns. When he’s sure I’m good, he has me remove the mask and open my mouth. He takes one of those things with the light on the end and checks my throat, almost shoving it all the way in my mouth. Finally, he pulls off his stethoscope and checks my heart rate and has me pull in gentle breaths as he moves the tool over my back.

Once he’s done with his examination and I put my clothes back on, Dr. Sams nods, putting his stethoscope back around his neck. “I don’t see any soot in your airway. Another hour or two on oxygen therapy and you’ll be free to go.”

“Wait,” I croak, grabbing his arm. He stops, looking at me with an open expression. “My boyfriend. How is …?”

Dr. Sams faces me, crossing his arms. “Normally, I wouldn’t tell anyone but family how a patient is doing, but from the look in your eye, I can tell you’d find out anyway.” I sit up as straight as I can and nod, gaze boring into him. “I’d rather not have you destroy my emergency room trying to get information and I hate calling the cops on patients, so here’s what we got. He has more smoke inhalation than you, so I take it he was nearer the flames than you.” I nod, chest feeling tight. “He has third degree burns on his right arm and back, the ones on his arm are worse than his back. He’s currently on a ventilator to help him breath, as his oxygen sats were in the low eighties.” I’m not sure what that means, but it can’t be good. “I don’t know when he’ll come off the vent, unfortunately. I wish I could give you an exact date and time, but with the extent of the smoke inhalation, it’s up to him. We’ve admitted him to a regular room tonight then we’ll transfer him to the burn unit in the morning. He’ll stay for the next two or three weeks, depending on how he responds to treatment. He needs skin grafts, and we have to be in a sterile unit for that.”

Fighting back tears I haven’t shed in years, I nod, though I’m not accepting what he’s saying to me. “Can I see him?”

Dr. Sams looks at me for a few seconds, assessing me. “He’s not awake, but yes. I’ll bring you a wheelchair.”

“No,” I wheeze, inching off the bed to standing. I hold the pose for a few seconds, wobbling, but I lock my knees so I don’t collapse. “Take me to him.”

After a nod, Dr. Sams walks swiftly out of the room. Prez comes up beside me, wrapping his arm around my waist. Sagging against him, I allow myself to be weak only in front of him so I can get to Shane. I don’t give a fuck what he thinks of me right now, as long as I can get to my man.

Dr. Sams is waiting for us by the elevator, which we take it to the third floor. Once we step off, he leads us down the end of the hallway where we make a right and stop at the first patient room, room 3618.

Throwing the door open, the first thing that gets my attention is the beeping of the machines. The next thing that registers is the rhythmic hiss and puff of the large machine beside the bed. Then my eyes land on Shane, lying still on the bed, the coloring of his skin almost matching the white of the sheets.

A sob bursts from my lips as I inch over to him, collapsing into the chair beside the bed. I grip his hand, holding it tight, taking comfort in the feel of the warmth against my palm. He’s still alive. He’s still in there. Just hurt.

Hot tears streak down my face as I stare at the tube that’s inserted in Shane’s mouth. My eyes drift down to the bandages that cover his arm and disappear into the sleeve of his hospital gown. My throat clogs with emotion as more tears race from my eyes. I can’t remember the last time I cried, but I can’t hold the tears at bay. None of this would have happened if I told him to stay in bed. I should have insisted he stay at home and wait for me. I never should have let him out of my sight. Why did I let him go around back alone? He shouldn’t be here.

There’s talking behind me and I assume Prez is working something out with Dr. Sams, but I don’t pay attention. I keep my eyes locked on Shane, hoping he’ll wake up. He has to, right? The doctor said he was going to be okay. He has to be.

A firm hand lands on my shoulder. Prez. “Dr. Sams said you can stay the night, even though it’s not allowed. I might have hinted that you would have to be dragged out of here and you might beat someone’s ass before you do. He’s willing to avoid that if you promise not to fuck anyone up.”

Dragging a hand down my face to clean it off, I nod. “I’ll be good. Thank you.”

Prez squeezes my shoulder, his retreating footsteps sounding in my ears as I peer down at the love of my life on the gurney in front of me. Sliding the chair closer to the bed, I lean my head on the mattress and watch Shane’s chest rise and fall with the help of the machines beside him. I hold his hand tight, allowing the tears to leak from my eyes until they obscure my vision.

“Come back to me, Shane,” I whisper, my words cracking as I say his name. “Come back to me, baby. You’ll be okay. I promise I’ll keep you safe from now on. I promise. Just come back.”

All I hear is the hiss and whir of the machine and all I see are Shane’s eyes locked down tight.

With a sigh, I close my eyes, Shane’s hand locked in mine. With the events of the night descending on me, I finally give in to exhaustion.

Coughing and choking wakes me. I sit up quickly and see Shane struggling, hands moving to his throat. “Baby!” I shout, moving so he can see me. “Calm down. Relax.”

Shane’s wide eyes lock on mine and he claws at his throat. Reaching over, I press the nurse’s call button, then rush over to the door, throwing it open. “We need help in here!”

Two nurses and a doctor come rushing down the hallway, pushing a cart in front of them. I move out of the way as they stop by Shane’s bed. They obscure my view as they do whatever it is they’re doing. I have to fight to stay put. I can’t push them out of the way so I can see what’s going on. They have to help Shane.

Minutes later, they move from the bed, the tube that was stuck down Shane’s throat now gone. The doctor looks over at me and smiles. “He’s fine. He was breathing around the vent, which is why he was choking. He’ll be moved to the burn unit in an hour. You can visit until then.” She moves over to where an IV is snaking into his arm. She pulls out a syringe, holding it up and says, “These are pain meds. They’ll kick in soon, so don’t expect to have a long conversation. The pain from the burns will be bad enough when we have to start giving him grafts.”

I nod, my throat tightening when I think about the pain Shane will be in. If I could, I’d take it all from him. I’d trade places with him in a heartbeat.

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