Page 110 of Worth the Wait
They blitzed down Marlborough Terrace usually choked with parked cars. Becca threaded them through.
“Two parked on left after the butcher’s,” Freddie snapped. “Use the right gap, then swing left to line up the next junction. Thirty degree cut, you’ll fishtail otherwise.”
Becca tutted. “You think I can’t handle a fishtail?”
“You handle it, we hit a bus.”
Becca smirked, already adjusting. “Fair point.”
Another junction. Another screech.
The hospital loomed in the distance, A&E sign burning bright in red.
Freddie leaned forward. “Next left. Cut the taxi rank. Emergency lane to the drop-off point.Go.”
Becca floored it.
They hit the turn fast, the patrol car juddering as it ramped the kerb and tore through the coned-off zone. Nurses turned to look, startled in the sudden roar of engineand siren but Becca slammed them into the bay and threw the handbrake.
Freddie unbuckled his belt, flinging open the door before the car had stopped rocking but Becca grabbed his arm.
“Wait. I’m sorry.” She looked him dead in the eye. “They cornered me. I had to tell them about you and Nathan.”
“Yeah. I figured. And it’s okay. Don’t blame you. I shouldn’t have put you in that position.”
Becca smiled. Nodded. Then shoved him. “Go!”
Freddie scrambled out of the car before it had fully stopped, boots hitting the tarmac hard as he tore through the sliding doors of A&E.
Please let him be okay. Please.
The good thing about wearing a uniform? People moved. No questions. No red tape. A nurse at the reception desk turned instinctively at his shout.
“Nathan Carter!”
She pointed. “Cubicle four. Straight ahead, left past the vending machine.”
Freddie bolted, weaving through trolleys and dazed patients, the corridor narrowing around the thunder of his heartbeat. Reaching the cubicle, he yanked the curtain aside and sucked in a breath.
Nathan. Shirtless. Perched on the edge of the hospital bed, sweat-damp hair clinging to his forehead had a nurse kneeling beside him, stitching a jagged gash along his left side, crimson smearing across gauze and gloves.
Nathan blinked in surprise. “Hey.”
“Fuck.” Freddie’s breath caught as he stepped in, chest heaving. “Fuck,fuck…” He doubled over, hands on his knees, trying to breathe through the flood of relief crashing through him. “I thought…” he rasped. “I thought you were…”
“I’m okay.” Nathan gave a faint smile and lifted his arm to show the wound. “Just a scratch. Right, nurse?”
The nurse gave a pointed look. “Wouldn’t quite call it a scratch, hun.” She worked steadily, eyes never leaving her stitches. “He’s got a six-inch laceration along the lateral abdomen. Deep, but missed the liver and vitals. No perforation. He’s lucky.”
Nathan smiled. Smug.
The nurse glanced up at Freddie. “You here to arrest him? You can wait til this is done.”
“No.” Freddie hovered in closer the other side of Nathan’s bed. “No arrest. Not this time.”
Nathan leant back against the pillow, wincing as he shifted, but his eyes never left Freddie while the nurse worked. When she finished, she cleared up and gave them both a look.
“Will leave you to it.” She left the cubicle, striking across the curtain.
