Page 62 of Sworn to Protect

Nate drops to Liam’s side and moves his hands with controlled precision. “Liam, you’re going to be okay. Help is coming.”

My sweet boy nods, but his face contorts in pain. “It hurts.”

“Where?” Nate asks, already assessing.

“Everywhere.”

“Your leg is broken.” Nate’s voice is calm, but the look he gives me is sharp and urgent. “Tourniquet, now.”

I dig in his bag with shaking hands, find the strap, and pass it to him. He tightens it below the knee, and I wallow in the bile rising in my throat. Blood seeps from beneath. I didn’t even see it before. What kind of nurse will I make if I can’t even help my son.

“Liam, I’m flushing your leg to prevent infection,” Nate warns before pouring the solution. Liam yelps, his little fingers crushing mine, but he clamps his jaw tight.

“I need to check your ribs now, okay?” Nate pulls out scissors to cut away Liam’s shirt. He works swiftly and reveals a deeper gash on Liam’s side. The blood has clotted, but my gut twists when Nate presses below his left rib cage, and Liam lets out a strangled cry.

Nate palms Liam’s abdomen. “Liam, I know it hurts all over, but tell me when it hurts more, okay?”

“Okay.” Liam’s strained voice grips my heart, but utter dread sinks in when he yelps in obvious pain at the pressure point below his left rib cage.

My eyes rise to meet Nate’s worried expression.His spleen?Nate nods as if understanding my unspoken thought.

“ETA on the medevac?” Nate shouts to Jordan.

“I don’t know.”

“Shit,” Nate swears under his breath. “I’m not losing you too.”

The words slip out, but they land like a bomb.

He meant them.

“Take his vitals.” Nate orders, grabbing his stethoscope. I rattle off his pulse and breath. Nate moves to take his blood pressure.

“Hang in there, buddy. I’ll call and check on the chopper.” Nate meets my gaze. “Monitor his vitals. If anything changes, yell.”

As Nate steps away, his conversation drifts through the air. Words like “open compound fracture” and “possible spleen rupture” slam into me. I want to curl into a ball and cry, but I can’t. Not now. Not when my son needs me.

He will not bleed out like Ethan. I won’t allow it.

No fucking way.

Minutes drag like hours. Nate rejoins me, and we work in tandem, monitoring him.

“Should I try giving him something to drink?” Jordan asks.

“No!” we both yell.

If Jordan ruins Liam’s chances for immediate surgery, I will kill him again. He’s already dead for taking him out in the first place.

We keep up this routine—Nate listening to Liam’s chest and abdomen while I keep tabs on his vital signs—until the slapping of helicopter blades sounds in the distance. What a welcoming melody. I sit back on my haunches and say a silent prayer in relief. I may be angry with God, but I still want his help.

“Liam, they’re almost here,” Nate whispers. “They’re going to take you to the hospital. The ride may be a bit rough, but they’ll start an IV and push some drugs to help take away the pain.”

Liam barely nods. Nate listens to his lungs, and his shoulders relax a fraction. “Lungs are still clear.”

The following minutes go by in a flurry. The chopper lands, and the medics waste no time. The pilot, Carson Stubbs, steps out, and recognition flickers. I don’t know him well, but he’s familiar. That alone steadies me.

Nate rattles off Liam’s condition with a precision that makes my head spin.Environmentalist freelancer, my ass.Who the hell is this man?

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