Читать книгу First Responder On Call - Melinda Di Lorenzo - Страница 15

As Celia’s eyes fluttered shut and her pulse evened out, Remo wanted to holler at the driver to go faster. He actually had to grit his teeth to keep from doing it. He knew better. Tyler—the kid at the wheel—had the sirens going, the lights flashing, and he was negotiating the streets of Vancouver at a pace that was both quick and safe. Isaac had done everything right, because that was how the older paramedic rolled. Carefully, perfectly set IV. Heart rate monitor secure. Pain meds, blankets, gurney...all as they should be. Remo was sure of it. Yet he still wished he’d done it all himself.

For no good reason.

He stared down at Celia, wondering where the unusual desire came from. The blonde woman was beautiful. No doubt about it. He’d already acknowledged that. Her physical vulnerability was a given. And Remo had been told on more than one occasion that he had a bit of a hero complex. Except neither of those things—alone or together—usually affected him. He ran into beauty and vulnerability in his job just as often as he saw the ugly side of things, and he always took it in stride. Patients were just that—patients. They needed him, and he got paid to meet those needs.

So not that, then.

Remo ran his eyes over his “patient” once more. The rush of protectiveness didn’t ease in the slightest. If anything, it grew. He watched the rise and fall of her chest—consistent but weaker than he would’ve liked—and reminded himself that she wasn’t as frail as she seemed in that moment. Underneath it, she was strong. The proof was evidenced in her determination to save her son’s life. In the pleading look she’d sent his way before she faded out. Pure selflessness. She’d sacrifice herself for her kid, and that was a hell of a thing.

And speaking of the kid...

He dragged his attention down to Xavier. The little guy was tucked right against Remo’s side, his forehead creased, his eyes closed, and one of his little hands clutching at his shirt. The sight of the small, nails-chewed-down fingers reminded Remo of something else—the kid had been locked in a trunk. Undoubtedly because Celia had put him there. And if she’d done it, then it had to be because it was the best way to keep the kid from harm.

What could be so dangerous that Celia felt the safest place for her son was hidden in a trunk?

Not what, he thought immediately. Who.

Remo’s eyes flicked from Xavier’s hand to Celia’s face, a suspicion creeping in. The kid claimed that his father wasn’t in the picture. Could be that it was by design. Remo’s heart twisted a little as he considered it. The idea that being locked in a trunk might be the better alternative to putting the kid in contact with his dad was a dark one. Darkness didn’t mean it wasn’t true. His own life was enough proof of that.

He blinked, genuinely surprised to find even a hint of his past creeping up on him. Sure, it was only in his own head. It was still an unusual occurrence. Something he deliberately avoided.

“Remo, did you hear me?”

He blinked again, this time to focus on Isaac, who was eyeing him with concern.

“Sorry, man,” he replied. “Missed it.”

The older man opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Just letting you know that we’re T-minus thirty seconds away from the hospital.”

On cue, Tyler cut the sirens and the lights, and slowed down as they rounded the bend that led to the hospital entryway. They coasted to a stop, and Isaac prepped the gurney for transport.

Xavier lifted his head. “Are we there?”

Remo gave the kid a light squeeze. “Yep.”

“Are they taking her away?”

“Only for a short bit, buddy. Doctors have to look her over, remember? Make sure everything’s working right.”

“But you said these guys were ess-berts.”

“Experts,” Remo corrected with a smile. “And they are. But their job is to get people to the hospital.”

“Because of science?”

“That’s right.”

“Oh.” Xavier’s little face sank. “I wish we could go.”

“I know it’s hard,” Remo said gently. “But you’re a brave kid. I can tell.”

The little boy nodded solemnly, but a moment later, his face brightened. “And you’re staying with me.”

“You got it, buddy.”

Tyler and Isaac finished pulling Celia out of the ambulance then, and Remo gestured to the open doors.

“You wanna go first so you can see them take your mom in?” he asked. “Or you want me to go so I can lift you down?”

Xavier didn’t hesitate. “You.”

“All right. Here I go.” Remo shot a conspiratorial wink in the kid’s direction, then hopped up and out.

Before he could turn and grab the kid, though, a hand landed on his shoulder. Startled, he turned. Isaac stood just behind him, a dour look on his face.

“Shouldn’t you be with Celia and Tyler?” Remo said in a low voice.

The other man shook his head. “Handed off the first patient. Now I’m back for the second.”

At the statement, Remo’s gut flipped uncomfortably. And when Xavier’s worried voice carried out from the ambulance, his stomach downright churned.

“Are you catching me?” the boy asked.

“I sure am,” Remo told him. “Just sit tight and give me a minute with Mr. Isaac, okay?”

“Okay.” The kid slipped back into the ambulance.

Remo turned back to his coworker. “I’ll take him in.”

Isaac shook his head. “Not necessary.”

“I want to.”

“Riding along with us was one thing. But you’re going to have to wait in the waiting area like everyone else. Tyler and I will see that the patient is taken care of, and the child care worker will—”

“No.”

“Pardon me?”

Remo dropped his voice and gestured toward the ambulance. “That kid’s scared. His mom is unconscious. He has no one else here, and he seems to like me.”

“You’re not on duty,” the other man reminded him.

“And?”

“It’d violate the rules, DeLuca. Once we get behind those sliding doors, though, you’re a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

“And?” Remo repeated.

Isaac gave him a puzzled frown. “What’s with you?”

“What’s with me? Have you ever been that kid?”

“What?”

“Have you ever sat there and waited while your mother—” He stopped himself abruptly and shook his head as he realized his coworker had a damned good reason for looking confused; Remo was far from heartless, but he had no problem checking his emotions at the door. Usually. What was with him? He had no idea.

But I’m not backing down. The kid needs more than a pat on the head and a bandage.

“I’m going in with him,” he stated firmly, his words a little calmer.

Isaac wasn’t done being his stubborn, by-the-book self. “I’m running this shift, DeLuca.”

“And that means what? You’re going to fight me, to stop me from taking the kid in? Block my way into the hospital?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. But one of us sure is.” Ignoring his coworker’s irritated expression, Remo turned toward the ambulance. “C’mon, kid. I’m ready for you.”

There was a shuffle, and then Xavier appeared at the doors. He looked uncertainly from Isaac to Remo, and Remo could’ve given the other man a knock straight upside the head for making the kid worry even more.

“S’alright, Xavier,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

“Do you promise?” the little guy asked.

The plaintive question dug straight into Remo’s heart. “I promise.”

Xavier nodded, then reached out his arms, and Remo scooped him up. When he turned toward the hospital, though, he found Isaac standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. Was the other man actually going to block him out, ridiculous or not? If so, would Remo genuinely push his way through?

Only a heartbeat went by before he was saved from having to find out. One of the hospital’s administrators—one who favored Remo, thank God, but knew him well—stepped into view.

She shook her head of tightly curled gray hair and frowned at the three of them. “Are you going to stand out here all night with that kid, DeLuca, or are you going to bring him in?”

“He’s not on duty, Dr. Hennessey,” Isaac said immediately.

The woman pursed her well-wrinkled lips, moved closer, and fixed a kindly smile toward Xavier. “What do you think, son? Should we bend the rules so Remo can bring you in?”

“Yes, please,” the kid replied with barely contained enthusiasm.

Dr. Hennessey chucked his chin, then lifted her head. “You have a good rest of your night, Isaac. I think your colleague and I have it from here.”

With entirely more relief than was reasonable, Remo exhaled and followed the wizened doctor—a woman he’d known most of his life—into the building. Sensing something was up, he let her take the lead. She said nothing as she guided him through the halls and up a flight of stairs to a relatively unused part of the hospital. She continued to keep silent until they finally reached one of the small, unoccupied family rooms. There, she gave Xavier a speedy but thorough once-over, and everything she said was related to that. It wasn’t until she’d issued a clean bill of health and set the kid up with a juice box and a colorful book that she finally asked Remo to join her outside for a moment. After making sure it was all right with the kid, Remo complied. The moment they crossed the threshold from the room into the hall, the older woman’s demeanor changed. She put her hands on her hips and issued a stern look.

“All right,” she said. “What’s going on?”

Remo blinked. “I kind of thought you were about to tell me.”

“Any idea why someone might be looking for that kid and his mother?” she asked.

His earlier thoughts about an angry ex sprang to mind, but he shook his head. “What do you mean?”

“Five minutes ago, I was in Emergency getting a signature from triage. A very well-dressed man pushed his way through the ten people waiting and demanded to know if a mother and son had come in, and when the nurse explained they couldn’t give out information like that unless he could prove he was a family member, he left.” She paused. “It rubbed me the wrong way. And a minute later, I overheard another nurse mention that you were outside arguing with another paramedic about a mom and her son.”

With the term “walking lawsuit” leaping to mind, Remo quickly decided in favor of telling her his fear—that Celia was on the run from an ex-husband. As he spoke, the senior administrator studied him with unveiled concern, and he knew what was coming before she even spoke.

“Remo...” she said. “You know I love you like a wayward nephew.”

“Thanks, Auntie Tanya,” he replied dryly.

“Uh-huh. And you know how close I am with your mother,” she added.

Remo feigned a look up and down the empty hall. “Shh. Nepotism.”

“Monthly coffee with a fellow hospital employee hardly counts as nepotism.” She smiled a sharp I-know-everything-anyway smile. “Stop deflecting. You can guess what I’m wondering.”

“Am I letting my past cloud my view?”

“Exactly.”

For the briefest second, Remo closed his eyes. In the last hour, his mind had strayed to his childhood at least twice. That was double the number of times he let himself think about it at all in an average year. So he had to admit—at least to himself—that it was there, under the surface. Was it affecting his objectivity? Maybe. Was it affecting his reaction to the kid and the kid’s mom? Definitely. But it didn’t change the bits and pieces of evidence that led him to the conclusion.

He opened his eyes and shook his head. “I might not be unbiased, but I’m also sure my opinion is sound.”

The older woman sighed like she was hoping to hear something else. “Okay. I believe you.”

“So what do you think? You want to call the police?” For no good reason, the idea bothered Remo, and he was thankful when she shook her head a little.

“I don’t know,” she told him. “Nothing illegal happened. Not yet, anyway. And domestic violence...” She let out another soft breath. “It’s a fine balance here, Remo. If what you think is true, then exposing their location and identities could put the two of them at more risk, and patient well-being is my number one priority. Particularly when there’s such a large element of vulnerability involved.” Her eyes strayed toward Xavier. “But protecting the hospital’s needs is a part of my job, too. Not doing anything and them getting hurt because of it could put us in a bad spot.”

“I’ll take responsibility,” Remo said immediately. “I’ll watch the kid. I’ll see what I can find out from his mom. And if there’s the slightest hint of danger, you know I’ll do the right thing.”

“Do you think the child’s in danger right now?” she asked.

“Did you see any signs of abuse?” he countered.

She shook her head. “Considering that fact that he was just in a car accident, he’s in damned near perfect shape.”

“So...”

Her gaze hung on him, her expression thoughtful. She was clearly weighing it all, and he had to fight an urge to make an uncharacteristic plea. Instead, he waited with as much patience as he could muster.

“All right,” she said at last. “But you’re going to stick like glue to that boy in there. As long as his mom’s a patient and you’re here in the hospital, I don’t see a need to involve social services.”

Relief washed over Remo. “You’re the boss.”

Tanya issued a nod. “I’m trusting you both personally and professionally here. You’re the best paramedic I know, and you’re a good man, too. So at the slightest hint of anything that could put anyone at risk... I expect to be informed. And I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that as far as the kid is concerned, it’s a legal obligation.”

“Got it.”

“I’ll give you a call on your personal phone as soon as I hear anything about the kid’s mom.”

“Thanks, Tanya.”

“And, Remo...” She trailed off, then cleared her throat. “One more thing.”

His heart thumped an unusually nervous beat. “What?”

“It hasn’t escaped my notice that the little boy is about the same age as your niece would’ve been now.”

Her words hit him hard, and square in the chest, and he was thankful that once she’d said them, she simply nodded, then spun and walked away.

* * *

This time, consciousness slammed into Celia like a cold wave. It smacked her in the face, forcing her to open her eyes and gasp in a breath at the same time. For a moment, she was too stunned to move. Then a thought jumped to the front of her mind and forced her to act.

Xavier.

Her son’s name took the wave to the next level. Her rib cage squeezed a protest, while her vision fought to adjust. Trying to stay calm was an impossible endeavor, and Celia gave in to the panic. She whipped her head back and forth in a frantic search. On the periphery of her mind, she noted her surroundings. She was tucked firmly into bed. The room was dark. And quiet, too, except for a light, mechanical hum. And it was all a concern. But it was also secondary to the fact that Xavier was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is he?” The words came out in a raspy whisper, and they were met with silence. “Where am I?”

She tried to sit up, and met with resistance. Her fear doubled. She tried harder, and a new noise overrode the relative silence—the beep of some kind of alarm. And it was followed by the rapid thump of feet hitting the floor.

No.

She had to get away. She had to find Xavier and keep him away from the man who threatened the life they’d built together.

Celia drew in another sharp, burning breath. She could see his face. See the craggy outlines of his cheeks and feel the heat of his breath.

Then there was a zap, and the relative darkness became a soft, artificial glow.

Nowhere to hide.

“God, God, God.” It was a prayer and a plea and a curse.

Ignoring the indistinct voices that suddenly filled the air, she fought against the hands that were on her now, holding her in place. Her flails got herself free. Partly. Something else gripped the back of her hand and made it sting.

The IV.

A rush of recall swept through her. The ambulance. The accident.

“Remo,” she whispered as a pair of blue, blue eyes filled her memory.

The thought of them—of him, dark-haired, rough-spoken, and protective—brought the panic down to a reasonable level. Her heart rate eased, and the decrease of blood roaring through her let the sound of a patient female voice reach her ears.

“It’s all right,” the voice was saying. “Just breathe in and out.”

Celia complied. It would be easier to communicate and locate her son if she was calm.

Slow suck of oxygen in.

Steady release out.

And again.

“Just like that,” the voice encouraged.

In. Out.

“You’re safe and sound now,” the voice added.

In. Out.

Celia at last blinked away the last of the fog and cast a careful look around, trying to get a handle on her surroundings. The nearly drawn blinds drew her attention first. They revealed that night reigned, and that a rainstorm raged.

Still raged, she thought, as she remembered it hitting the windshield of her car before she was blindsided.

But that wasn’t what she wanted to be thinking about now.

She swiveled her head, noting that the room was pale blue and lit with soft light. Her gaze finally landed on a plump, olive-skinned, sixtyish woman—the source of the voice, obviously—who was smiling at her from a safe couple feet away. She was dressed in scrubs, wore a stethoscope around her neck, and had on a name tag that read Jane. As Celia took in the woman’s appearance, she connected the dots. The soothing ambience, the tube hanging from her hand, and the nurse added up to one thing.

I’m in a hospital.

That realization provided her with some relief. But where was Xavier? In the hospital somewhere, too? Could the nurse be trusted?

And why do I have to wonder if a nurse can be trusted?

Her head ached, and Celia briefly closed her eyes to minimize the pain. From behind her dropped lids, a vision of her son filled her mind. In it, he was tucked under the blue-eyed man’s arm during the ambulance ride. Remo. She knew it was his name, even if she didn’t recall why. Was Xavier still with him? For no tangible reason, she kind of hoped so. Deciding she had no choice but to ask—trust or no trust—she opened her eyes and her mouth at the same time. But the nurse—Jane—spoke first.

“Hello, Mrs. Poller,” the other woman said, stepping closer. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

“It’s Miss,” Celia croaked automatically.

“I’m sorry?”

“Miss. I’m not married.”

“Well. That’s one more thing we know about you, isn’t it? Your name and your marital status. It’s a start.”

Celia eyed her and tried to keep her heart from fluttering. Something in the back of her mind told her she didn’t want to be known. And not knowing why it was true was frustrating. Especially since she wasn’t sure how it affected her son. Regardless, she needed to know he was okay. She started to clear her throat, and the action brought a cough-inducing dryness to the surface. Jane moved nearer again, grabbed a cup and a straw from the bedside table, then held them up to Celia’s lips.

“Don’t drink too much, too fast,” she cautioned. “You don’t want to make yourself sick.”

Celia nodded and took a miniscule sip. The icy water slid down her throat and cooled the burning sensation.

“Better?” asked Jane.

“Much,” Celia replied. “Thank you.” She took one more taste, then met the nurse’s eyes and chose the direct route. “Was my son brought in, too?”

“Your son?” The blankness in the woman’s tone spiked Celia’s pulse again.

She forced herself to answer as calmly as possible. “He’s five, but on the small side for his age. Brown hair, gray eyes, and freckles. He was wearing a red T-shirt with a fire truck on it.”

Jane set down the cup, then moved to the foot of the bed and pulled a chart from a clip fastened there. She flipped through a couple pages and shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Miss Poller,” she said. “I don’t see any notes on here about your son. I can call down to Pediatrics and—”

“No.”

“What?”

Celia exhaled. Whatever it was she feared, the thought of further exposing her son made it that much worse. She had to keep the attention off him. It was a compulsion.

“What about Remo?” she asked.

“Remo DeLuca? The paramedic with the dreamy eyes?” Jane smiled.

Even though she wasn’t sure of the last name, Celia nodded. The description fit. And besides that...how many Remos could there be hanging around the hospital?

“He’s the one who brought me in,” she added.

Jane took another look at the chart, and her brow furrowed. “He’s not listed here.”

Doubt crept in. Was there a reason he’d left his own name off her admission documents? Was it significant? And did she even have time to think about it when her instincts told her she needed to get to Xavier as quickly as possible? Then, from somewhere in Celia’s mind, a full-body image of the man popped up, and in it, Remo wasn’t wearing a uniform.

He was off-duty.

Celia exhaled and made herself smile. “That’s because Remo wasn’t acting in an official capacity. He’s...a friend. Which is why I think my son might be with him.”

Jane thoughtfully tapped the chart for a second, then sighed. “Okay. Let me do a quick check of your vitals, and then I can send out a general page through the hospital. If Mr. Blue Eyes is here, I’m sure he’ll come running.”

Celia nodded, sat back, and pressed her lips together to keep from impatiently demanding that the nurse do her job as fast as humanly possible.