Page 6 of Nowhere to Hide
Maybe she had a little more fight left in her.
With my free hand I jerked at my belt. “Should I try a tourniquet?”
“If you can. It’s important to stop the bleeding.”
“Okay. I have you on speaker. Tell the EMTs that I’m helping not hurting her, yeah?”
“Of course.”
I slid the belt under her upper thigh and cinched it tight, but it was just below the line of her underwear and at a shitty angle.All the important parts seemed to be covered and intact. Maybe I’d gotten here in time for her not to get raped for fuck’s sake.
Not that it would matter if she bled out.
I cinched the leather tighter and she came around. Her big, dark eyes were blank with pain and shock. Her pupils blown out. Concussion perhaps?
“I’m here to help.” My voice was gritty with disuse.
She tried to move her arms, but intricate knots kept them high above her head. I gave her a quick once over, but there didn’t seem to be any other wounds to worry about. Then her head lolled to the side and her eyes fluttered shut.
“Hey!” I shook her, but she didn’t resurface. The bleeding slowed, but still dribbled between my fingers from under my shirt.
Fucker definitely hit an artery. I pushed down on the sopping wet shirt.
The peel of sirens and lights lit the parking lot above. “Cavalry, thank fuck.”
“Okay. I can wait until they arrive,” the dispatcher replied.
Hell, I almost forgot she was still there. I checked her pulse again, glad to feel the pumping blood under the raw skin. “She’s unconscious again, but still alive. Thanks.” I stabbed the screen to hang up and tucked my phone into my back pocket. It wasn’t an ideal spot, but coastal towns were built for creative rescues.
A cop, in full uniform, beat the EMTs down the stairs since they had to go more carefully thanks to a board.
“Shit.” The cop’s eyes went stony and flat before he raked his gaze over me. He was black with up-tilted eyes that spoke of mixed race. His uniform was ill fitting, a bit tight against muscles that bulged with intense gym time.
But there was no doubt his eyes were all veteran cop.
In my experience beat cops were a different bread. Tired and jaded most of the time. Not full of that kind of energy unless they were fresh out of the academy.
He scanned the scene, his face blanking the more he took in. When he walked onto the dock he tucked his hand into his pockets. Not for protection or nonchalance, more like a long held reaction to a crime scene.
Nope, no ordinary beat cop.
“How did you come upon...this?”
I nodded at my boat. “Was out on the water coming in to dock for the night.”
The EMTs hustled down the gangway to the slip.
I could tell the cop wanted to tell them not to touch anything—but he pressed his lips together.
The female EMT was stocky and muscular with dark hair pulled into a ponytail at the back of her neck. She glanced at the ropes then back to the cop then shot off rapid questions about what I’d done.
I relayed the steps I’d taken so far and she nodded tightly. “You probably saved her life. Let us take over.” She ripped open a bag full of sterile cotton. I leaned back on my feet, then pushed up to stand. Blood soaked my jeans from the knee down and streaked across my midsection from trying to staunch the flow.
I wasn’t a cop, but I recognized a crime scene when I saw it. I’d seen plenty of fucked-up shit in war-torn countries. Killers lived everywhere and no doubt about it, this would have been a murder scene if I hadn’t pulled into the wharf.
If I’d been a few minutes earlier?—
Hell.
