Page 110 of Protect

“I hit my head. I don’t know where.” I look her over, her pupils are okay. If they can get here and get the bleeding stopped, she should be fine.

“You’re going to be okay, but you can’t move. Help is on the way. I need to go to the other side of the car now and check your driver,” I tell her, picking my phone back up and moving to Troy’s side of the vehicle.

“Laurel?”

“I’m here, Rowan, the team is less than five minutes out,” she confirms.

“Female is bleeding. A lot, but stable, no neck fractures, no loss of consciousness. Just checking the male now.”

“Right place, right time, Rowan,” Laurel says. She’s been the dispatcher for years and the whole crew knows her.

“Yeah,” I mutter, going around to Troy’s side of the SUV. When I get there he’s coming to, groaning.

“Troy, I need you to stay as still as you can, okay?” I let it register that of all the car wrecks I could pull up on it would be Vi’s ex. I just threatened to kick this guy’s ass three hours ago.

“I don’t even know his name,” the girl says. “We just met at Barracuda,” she adds, mentioning the only strip joint in Sky Ridge, tucked in an old warehouse downtown. “I tend bar there,” she adds. “We were going to the Pinery Motel.”

Troy opens his eyes as I’m making sure his door is safe to open. I don’t like the amount of smoke coming from the hood, it’s growing thicker by the second and is likely to catchfire any minute. Hot metal, combustible fluids…never a good combination. I try to reach in and shut the car off in hopes of stopping the smoke but I can’t. The front dash is pushed right up against Troy’s body. He doesn’t appear to be bleeding anywhere but from his head, and that cut is deep above the bridge of his nose.

“My neck is fine,” he croaks out, assessing himself. “My arm is fractured, possible broken ribs,” he adds. At least him being a doctor is coming in handy a little.

“You’re a firefighter,” he says.

“I’m also a trained medic. It’s one of my jobs in the offseason.”

“Fuck, my head” he groans. The way he’s sandwiched in, they’ll be lucky if the team doesn’t have to cut the roof off to get him out.

“You’ve got a broken nose and a nasty cut at the bridge.” I tell him as I check my phone. “ETA, Laurel?.”

“Less than one minute, Rowan.” she replies.

“I need to get out.” Angela says in a panicked voice.

“Let the medics get here first. They have equipment that I don’t, and they’ll be here any second.” I tell her again.

“I’ll keep my eye out,” says the truck driver.

I nod at him and then look back at Troy. He looks at me. Understanding clicks between us. He didn’t have to go for a shift. He went to the strip club to hook up and he left his daughter to do it. And he could’ve just died.

“I’m sorry,” he says, fear in his eyes.

“Just stay still,” I order.

“Here they come!” the man from the truck calls out. I glance up to see their lights.

“Okay, they’re here. You guys are going to be alright,” I tell them both as I lean back on the door frame and wipe my sweat covered brow.

Fucking Christ, of all the accidents to land on.

I’m here, Jacob, I hear you.

Ten minutes later both Troy and his new friend are loaded into separate units. Troy is slipping in and out of consciousness. He’s got himself a pretty good concussion.

“Can you ride with us? Let us know what happened so we can prep the ER?” As luck would have it, one of the EMT’s is Scottie, Cal’s girlfriend.

“Yeah, sure thing,” I tell her.

She nods and gestures for me to get in the back with Troy. I give her the run down and she radios in the details to Bakersfield.

---