Page 96 of Eight Second Hearts

“There!” Ram directs Tripp. “Pull over here.”

Before we’ve even stopped, the paramedics are rushing forward with the stretcher. The back door opens just as Tripp throws the truck in park.

“Ma’am, we need you to exit the vehicle,” one of them tells me. “We’ve got it from here.”

I nod and slip out carefully as they immediately pull Beau from the backseat and get him situated on the stretcher. They rush toward the helicopter, and I follow, trying to keep up with them.

They load him into the helicopter quickly, efficiently, and I’m grateful for their professionalism.

“No passengers,” the paramedic nearest me says. “Patient is critical, and we need the space.”

I back off, tears rolling down my face, moving back to the truck where Ram and Tripp wrap their arms around me.

“He’s gonna be okay,” Ram says. “He’s too stubborn not to be.”

The three of us watch the helicopter gear up and lift into the air, before it takes off to the hospital. I watch it, my chest tight, worried that’ll be the last time I ever see Beau alive again.

Wondering if I’ll get to tell him how I feel.

“Into the truck,” Tripp growls. “Let’s go!”

We climb in, and he takes off again. I barely have my door closed before the truck is flying down the road in the same direction as the helicopter. I just hope the Grim Reaper doesn’t beat us there.

Chapter 53

Indie

When I’m stressed, I pace. Back and forth. I wear a goddamned path in the floor with how much I pace. I can’t stop myself. We arrived at the hospital an hour ago, and they’d stuck us in the waiting room, and then we haven’t heard anything since as they work on Beau.

“Come here, periodista,” Ram says, reaching for me.

“I can’t,” I say, continuing to pace. “I have to keep moving.”

Tripp looks up at me, his eyes tired. I’m sure we all look a mess. Hell, I have blood all over me. Someone had finally come out and offered me a wet towel to wipe most of the blood from my hands after I’m sure I’d scared someone with the scene we’d created sitting around here. Still, I hadn’t been able to scrub hard enough to get my arms completely clean. Blood still crusts the wrinkles in my hand and under my nails.

“They’ll come tell us if something changes,” Tripp says, trying to offer comfort despite the situation.

I don’t know how he’s so calm. I don’t know how either one of them is so calm.

“Nothing is going to happen to Beau.El diablo no se lo llevará,” Ram adds. “Seriously.”

“How do you know?” I ask, my heart beating wildly in my chest. It’s been too long. They should have come out and talked to us already. Shouldn’t they have?

“We’ve been here before,” Tripp says. “When he was gored by a bull.” I glance at him, and he shrugs. “We were teenagers, and Beau wasn’t quite as fast yet. He went the wrong way, got nabbed by the bull in his gut. Ironically in the same place as the bullet.” Tripp nods. “Suffice it to say, that man ain’t goin’ anywhere until he decides he is. And he likes bein’ alive way too much to die.”

Somehow, those words do help a little. Not enough for me to stop pacing, but enough for me to take a few deep breaths and calm my racing heart.

A few minutes later though, that forced calm is ruined when the doctor finally appears from the double doors. I stop and stare at him, preparing myself for whatever it is he’s about to say, whether it’s bad news or good. I can’t tell from his expression.

Fuck, I can’t tell from his expression!

“You here for Beau Rogers?” the doctor asks, looking between me and the two men that shoot to their feet and flank my sides.

“We are,” Tripp answers. “He good?”

The doctor looks between us, and I curse the fucking time it takes him to actually answer. Finally, the fucker says, “The surgery went well. We removed the bullet and got him all fixed up.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of metal. “He was lucky. The bullet glanced off this and it forced it to the side. What would have been a critical hit in his liver turned into a less critical hit in his muscle. He’ll be down for a while, but he’ll recover just fine.”

I stare at the metal in his hand and reach for it. He drops it into my palm and I’m able to see exactly what it is. The moment I do, I start to laugh, unable to contain my amusement.

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