Page 93 of We Own Tonight
“Why aren’t they here? He needs medicalhelp!”
“Relax.” Whitman touches my arm. “Wait, is this . . . thisis. . .”
I don’t answer him. I don’t care if he’s figuring out whose house this is and why I’m here. The man I’m so deeply in love with is going in and out of consciousness, and he needs help. My legs start to shake, and Whitman catches me as I start tocrumble.
He steadies me, and I turn toward the staircase. I can’t wait for help, Iamthe help. We need to get him to the hospital now. “You guys can transport him, fuck the ambulance. I can’t carry him. I don’t know what happened, but he needs help now!” I say with so much emotion that their faces fall. I’m not sentimental at work. I don’t cry. I don’t whine. I do my job and kick ass. I’m a warrior when I’m in uniform. Even through my sister’s illness, I never once appeared weak. Right now, I can’t hold it together. “He can’t wait! I can’t losehim!”
Tears spring in my gaze, and I can’t stop them. I feelhelpless.
“Heather,” Vincenzo says in his calming voice. I know that tone. I’m the master at that tone. “They’re almost here,relax.”
“Go with her,” Whitman instructs. “I’ll get the medics upstairs. I’ll radio when they arrive,okay?”
I know he’s right. We can’t take a patient with a head injury to the hospital in the copcar.
We rush back up the stairs and into the room where Eli still lies helpless on the floor. I move back to him, checking his pulse again. Tears continue to fall as I brush back his dark brownhair.
“They’re here,” I hear Whitman over theradio.
The paramedics enter the room, and I see the recognition as they realize they’re in Eli Walsh’s house. They look at both of us and back tohim.
Questions are fired off as they try to gather information about his injuries and medical history. So many things I don’tknow. . .
“Is he taking anymedication?”
“I don’tknow.”
“Any medicalconditions?”
“I don’t know,” Iadmit.
“Allergies?”
“I . . .” I shake my head. “I don’tknow.”
“Has he taken any drugs? Beendrinking?”
“No, I’ve never seen him take anything. And I wasn’t here, so I have no idea if he drankanything.”
They both look to each other and then ask more questions that I can’t answer. It takes me three minutes to realize how much Eli and I don’t know about each other. He has no idea I’m allergic to penicillin or that I had surgery eight years ago for an ovarian cyst. We’re so in love and sooblivious.
He groans as they roll him onto the backboard and then carry him down the stairs. I grab my phone and keys off the front entry table and they’re already closing thedoors.
I quickly try to lock up, but my blood-covered hands are shaking so bad I can’t get the key to goin.
Whitman comes over, places his hand over mine, steadying it so I can turn the key. “I’ll drive you over,” he says, guiding me to thecruiser.
I don’t say anything, I’m in shock, and my mind can’t fully absorb anything. I climb in the back and twist my handstogether.
The only thing that goes through my mind is that I can’t lose him. Not like this. Not so soon after Stephanie. Not when we haven’t had enough time. We deserve moretime.
Please, God, give me moretime.
“Randy!”I rush forward as he sprints into the hospital. It’s been twenty minutes since we arrived. I was told to take a seat and they’d let me know something, but no one will answer me. They keep saying I’m not family. “They’re not telling me anything, but they’re working onhim.”
“Okay, I’ll find out.” Randy heads to the desk where the nurse grabs a file and then escorts himback.
Savannah’s hand touches my shoulder, and I turn to her with tears streaming. “It’s okay, Heather. Eli isstrong.”
