Page 63 of Sworn to Protect

“We’re taking him to Melville Trauma. Their unit is standing by and ready.” This comes from Carson. I nod, dazed, watching as they load Liam into the chopper. My son. My life.

Spinning.

It feels as if the entire world started turning on its axis at the speed of light. The helicopter lifts into the air. My body sways as it carries away my entire lifeline. My reason for existing.

Dizziness.

My head feels like it’s floating in the clouds with my son. Black dots impair my vision. I barely register the quick popping sound competing with the rotors’ slap, slap, slap.

I hear the sound of a pull tab, and something is shoved into my hand.

“Drink this.”

I pull my gaze away from the sky and direct it to the man standing next to me and to the soda pop he’s given me. Did he drag this from his bag?

“I don’t drink soda,” I murmur stupidly. The last thing I’m worried about is calories and sugar intake.

“Drink the damn soda, Mackenzie. You need sugar.”

I take a sip, then another as the syrupy liquid grounds me. I want to gag. But to appease him, I take a few more sips.

Then I see Jordan. Picking up the dirtbike. As if that’s a priority.

Rage overtakes exhaustion. My legs move before I process it. My palm connects with his face, the slap echoing.

He barely has time to recover before I unleash the crazed bitch.

CHAPTER THIRTY

NATE

The cat’sout of the bag.

I drag a hand through my hair, resisting the urge to shove through the metal doors separating me from Mackenzie and Liam. The helplessness gnaws at me. I’ve spent years on the other side of the emergency room, being the one who fixes, who saves. Now, I’m just another person waiting.

And Mackenzie is in there alone.

The sterile walls are meant to be calming, but all I see is how artificial it feels compared to the chaos I’m used to; field hospitals, makeshift triage centers, and places where you don’t get the luxury of waiting rooms with matching furniture.

The silence stretches. The drive here had been thick with it after I peeled Mackenzie off her brother. To my surprise, he didn’t strike back. Mackenzie was so shattered she didn’t even question me about my profession. Not one word.

I don’t know if that’s a relief or a death sentence.

Another thirty minutes tick by before the doors swing open. Mackenzie steps out, looking wrecked. Her eyes, red-rimmed and heavy with exhaustion, barely meet mine.

“How’s Liam?” I stand and step toward her.

“Stable. But…” She swallows hard. “They took X-rays, and the tech asked him to move his ankle. Move it. Like, hello? The bones aren’t even connected.” Her voice cracks with frustration. “I had to tell them to stop.”

I clench my jaw, biting back my own anger. Common sense should never be optional. “Did they scan his spleen?”

“Yes. They’re doing it now.” Her lower lip quivers, and before I think better of it, I pull her against me. She stiffens at first, but then she breaks, her body sagging into mine. Silent tremors wrack her frame as I hold her.

Damn, Liam’s uncle for trying to show up. Mackenzie was right to shut him out. If he had pushed her further, I might have broken my own rule about staying out of fights.

Her sobs quiet, and I gently guide her to a chair. The moment isn’t right to tell her the truth. Not when she’s barely holding herself together. She needs me now And Liam’s road to recovery will be long.

The doors open again, and two physicians dressed in blue scrubs approach us.

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