Page 88 of Unexpected Love
I roll the asshole off of her, and my heart fucking stops. There’s blood on her shirt, her face a battered mess. “Jesus.”
I don’t even stop to call it in. I haul her lifeless body into my chest. The cacophony of the scene falls away as I lifther. The world narrows to this moment, to her. My breath rattles through my air mask as I race out of the building with my lover in my arms.
Kate and Leo meet me on the sidewalk with a gurney.
“Go. We’ve got her,” Leo commands.
Fuck that.
I rip my BA off, dropping my helmet to the ground and ripping my gloves off. I search for a pulse, desperate for confirmation that she’s injured but okay.
There’s the slightest flutter, but it’s there.
Breath whooshes from my lungs, and my knees buckle.
“Whoa there, big guy.” Kate’s at my side, lifting my arm around her shoulders. “Come on, Johnson. Get your shit together,” she says, pushing me back onto my feet. Her hand pats my chest as she meets my gaze. “Go do your job, and trust us to do ours.”
I swallow the bile that threatens and take a step back. The rest of the scene comes back into sharp focus, the sounds rushing in with a force. A second medic unit has arrived, along with my lieutenant.
Jackson emerges from the smoke with a second body in a fireman’s carry. He deposits him on the sidewalk just outside of the shop.
“Johnson.” The gruff voice of Chief Collins commands my attention. “Where’s your head?”
“I’m solid, Sir.”
“Good. Get back in there, and let’s hit the hot spots.”
My gaze darts back to the ambulance where I just deposited half my heart. A hand clamps my shoulder, drawing my attention back to the man I’ve trusted way more than I’ve trusted myself.
“Let them do their job. As soon as we do ours, you’re clear to go to the hospital.”
In record time, I’m strolling through the hive of activity in the emergency department. I’ve been here too many times recently, and this time for all the wrong reasons.
My heart is lodged so firmly in my throat, it’s gonna be a miracle to get anything out as I approach the nurse’s desk.
Bile rises, adding to the uncomfortable sensation of being unable to breathe. I’m on the verge of tears.
“Cal, down here,” Kate’s voice calls over the beeps and bustle.
She meets me halfway. “She’s stable. Head CT is negative. She’s just gonna have some nasty bruising. They’re prepping her for surgery now.”
I freeze and pin Kate with a stare.
She pats my chest and shoots me a tender look. “Bullet wound in the shoulder, but non-life-threatening.”
I take a futile inhale as Kate leads us into a room and whooshes the curtain aside.
“Fuck.” The curse comes out on a breath.
Jules, pale, battered, and bruised, looks tiny in the hospital bed, hooked to all sorts of devices. But her heart rate is a steady beat through the monitor.
Her head lolls on a shitty excuse for a pillow, and then her eyes open and land on me. I sink into the hard chair by her side and take her hand.
She gives me a reassuring squeeze, and finally, I can breathe. I drop my forehead to her hand, pressing my mouth to the fingers that grip mine, letting all of the emotion I’ve held in travel through that one gesture.
She squeezes my hand again. One side of her face took a beating; the other is precious and unmarred. Tears gather in her eyes, pooling on the edge of her lashes.
“Charlie? Dani?”
