Shocking the Medic (Pulse series) Read online

  Luke nodded his agreement, took her shoulder with one hand, spun her toward him, and shoved a pair of clear safety goggles over her eyes. Her mouth went dry. She was an expert at steeling herself and getting through anything. But she’d never had to crawl inside a mangled car to rescue a baby before.

  “Inside?”

  “Yep.” He patted the top of her helmet. It was probably meant to be reassuring, but all it did was make the headache creeping behind her temple worse. She pulled away from Luke’s intense eyes to look at the crash.

  The front compartment of the SUV had been smashed past the center of the vehicle. How the mother had escaped, she had no idea. The vehicle had crumpled around itself, leaving a narrow opening where the rear passenger window used to be. There was no sound from the backseat—nothing indicating there was a child inside.

  Her stomach fluttered. Not good. There was a child inside, and she needed to get to her now. As mangled as the SUV was, it would take the fire department minutes yet to cut a bigger opening.

  “I need you to slide inside and stabilize the baby while the fire department cuts enough space for you both to get out,” Luke reiterated.

  “There’s no room to get the trauma kit in.” Her voice sounded small, probably because the helmet muffled her ears. “You’ll be out here to hand me stuff in?”

  He shoved his arms into a turnout coat and nodded. “I wouldn’t leave you.”

  Her face flushed. Not the time to dwell on how many times she’d wished to hear those words—and more—out of his mouth. Trying to swallow and failing, she gave a small nod and turned to the vehicle. Luke stepped back so a fireman could smash out the remaining glass around the opening. She twisted slightly and grabbed the inside frame, hoisting herself head first into the space. Luke grabbed her feet and guided her body as she pulled herself slowly through.

  She dragged her knees to her chest to fit, trying to find purchase to anchor herself. The infant seat was in the middle, rear facing. Greer managed to find space for one foot on the floor and the other on the seat beside the baby. The caved-in roof forced her to hunch as she peered around the car seat. A tuft of dark hair stuck out from a pink blanket that must have shifted over the baby’s face during the accident. She pulled the blanket away with a prayer on her numb lips.

  “What do you see, Greer?”

  Her breathing was loud in her ears as she pealed back what she could of the blanket and scanned for any obvious injuries. The baby—maybe four or five months old—had her eyes closed, her face peaceful as if she were sleeping. Her little body had come free from one strap and leaned to the right. Carefully, Greer placed a hand over the child’s chest, praying hard that she’d feel the tiny chest rise and fall.

  Nothing.

  “She’s not breathing.”

  Grabbing the trauma scissors she kept in her left thigh pocket, she cut away the strap that held the baby into the seat.

  “Are you sure?” Luke asked. “Check again.”

  She fumbled to remove as much of the blanket as she could. Placing a hand over the baby’s chest, Greer clenched her eyes and focused on feel. Her heart climbed into her throat. There was movement beneath her palm! Or was there? She seemed muddled in the cramped space, as if she couldn’t quite get her brain to cooperate.

  Gently, she rubbed the child’s chest with her fingers, trying to stimulate her. Feeling again, she couldn’t quite tell if she was feeling the chest rise or not. What the hell was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she tell?

  “I… I’m not sure.”

  “Does she have a pulse?” he asked.

  She slid her fingers up the child’s sleeve and felt for a pulse just above the crook of her arm. A soft bounding met her touch.

  “Yes. But it’s too slow.”

  She felt again, just to be sure. Why was she second-guessing herself? Tension squeezed her gut as the metal capsule around her seemed to get smaller. She needed to get this baby out of here. Babies were notorious for holding on until they couldn’t anymore and crashed fast.

  “I need to manage her airway,” Greer called out.

  Luke shoved an oblong blue nylon bag through the hole. Her mouth went dry. It was the pediatric airway kit, with a tiny oxygen mask already connected to a tank outside. She barely had room to grab it.

  “Come on, Lucky. You’ve got this. I’m right here if you need me.”

  Why’d he call her that stupid nickname? She wasn’t lucky. She was afraid she was going to do the wrong thing and royally screw this up.

  “I don’t think I have enough room in here to do it.”

  There was a pause as if Luke was waiting for her to tell him something.

  “Are you going to move her?”

  Was she? She’d have to take the child out of the car seat to get her out of the car. If she’d sustained internal trauma, moving her like that could hurt her more. But by the time the fire department cut them out, the child might lose her airway. She had to swallow down a tickle of panic. She was in a no-win situation here.

  She placed a tiny oxygen mask over the baby’s face. She was at risk of doing this child harm, either way. The question was, which was the lesser evil?

  “Greer.” It was Will, and his voice was rigid.

  She swallowed. “I’m…”

  “Bring her out,” Will demanded. “It’s an emergency move. Just bring her out.”

  She picked the child up, supporting her head and neck, and by increments, maneuvered her around the car seat and through the small space to the window. Luke’s hands were waiting as she passed the infant through.

  She wiped the back of her hand over her forehead. Her heart was pounding, her body trembling from adrenaline. Sweat trickled down her spine, and she noticed fully how stifling the air inside was.

  “Greer, come on.” A male voice came through the opening. A small sound followed his words… A baby crying? Hope fluttered in her heart. Someone touched her foot, guiding her as she scooted backward toward the window.

  “I got ya.” Someone gripped her ankles, then her calves, to steady her as she squeezed back out the way she’d come in. The helmet popped off her head and clanked onto the pavement, but she barely noticed. The spot where the police officer and the baby’s mother had been was empty. She hurried to the ambulance and slid open the side door. Luke’s calm voice floated out mixed with the sound of a baby’s weak cry as he placed her on an infant-size backboard. The young mother sat next to Will on the bench seat, her fists pressed to her lips.

  Greer started to come inside when Will gave her a short glance.

  “Drive.”

  Her brow furrowed lightly. She was still on orientation, and this was her patient. Besides, if she’d missed something, she needed to learn from it, not miss out by driving. Seconds were precious, though, and the baby needed a hospital.

  She moved around the ambulance and climbed to the driver’s seat. Traffic was congested from the accident, making the ramp onto the freeway difficult to navigate. Greer frequently glanced in the upper mirror, which gave her a peek into the back of the ambulance, but she couldn’t look long enough to see what was going on.

  When they reached the hospital, she was a tight mess of nerves. She couldn’t ditch the sinking feeling that she’d screwed up. She had screwed up! She and Luke had been nailing their 911 calls with ease, to the point that she’d started to think the hype about paramedicine being a tough job was a little overrated. She’d had exams in law school a million times more nerve-racking than most of the emergency calls she’d had as a medic. All her mother’s insults and jabs about leaving law were finally starting to fade as her confidence grew.

  But holding the child’s life in her hands shoved her right out of her comfort zone. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d failed somehow.

  Unsure if she should follow the men into the ER, she hung back to clean up the ambulance and wait. It took a lifetime for Luke and Will to come back out, and her anxiety got worse, her mind creating a hundred horrible s
cenarios for that poor child. This was a hundred times worse than waiting on a jury’s decision, the tension unlike anything she’d experienced before.

  “Hey,” Luke called out as they finally came through the double doors. “Is the ambulance ready to go?”

  She let out a silent breath and nodded, catching the side-eye Will gave her.

  He didn’t look happy as he approached her.

  “You know what pisses me off about newbies? The failure to make a decision and carry it out.”

  Greer pulled in her bottom lip. Will was a twenty-year veteran of this gig, and Luke’s main partner, and when he spoke, you’d better damn well listen. Being berated by him wasn’t high on anyone’s list, even hers, despite having been chewed out by every professor through four years of law.

  “You realized the baby wasn’t breathing effectively. You realized you did not have the capacity to manage her airway in that environment. Did that create a life-threat for the child?” His finger made jabs in the air, punctuating each sentence.

  She nodded. “Yes, absolutely.”

  He spread his hands wide. “So, you move her and manage the airway. Make a decision and carry it out.”

  “You’re right; I didn’t act quickly enough.”

  Will stared at her a moment longer before giving the barest of a nod and walking away. She let out a full breath, so disappointed in herself. She’d made a lot of small mistakes along the way, but this time, the weight of her screwup was heavier. There was so much to learn, things that only time and experience would instill in her—if she made it long enough to benefit from months and years in this job.

  Luke leaned against the ambulance, one foot crossed over the other as he chatted with Will. Her insides sank at the thought of disappointing him. When she’d been bored to tears in law school, he would call and entertain her with accounts of 911 calls he’d been on. He always kept the details generic, but the one thing clear was the pride in his voice when he talked about his job. She was impressed by his ability to take care of any situation.

  Too bad she couldn’t just tap into the knowledge and confidence he’d gained over the years. She wanted to do a good job, and she wanted to make him proud. Walking past him to put the linens away, she jerked as Luke grabbed her sleeve from behind. She looked over her shoulder and into his concerned eyes. She waited for him to say just the right thing to smooth out her rumpled feelings, like he always did. Then again, she’d made her proverbial bed, and she wasn’t going to rely on him to save her bruised ego.

  “I’d tell you to brush it off, but I know it’s not that easy. The baby is stable. If I hear more about her progress, I’ll let you know, okay?”

  Finding out a patient’s condition once they were dropped off at the hospital was tricky, thanks to confidentiality and all that. They’d likely not hear how things turned out, which made it harder to think positive and not second-guess.

  “Okay,” she replied.

  “Let’s go.” He motioned her to get into the passenger seat. His silence did little to reassure her or make the pressure inside lessen. Later, she took her time going through supplies and finding busy work to do, hoping it would help settle her mind.

  It did, sort of. Beneath her concern over her little patient was a fat helping of embarrassment over her ineptitude. She’d been top of her class in college, had breezed through the medic program with scores impressive enough to land her here to finish her clinical training, with a job offer if she performed well. Screwing up wasn’t in her nature.

  She had just made coffee in the industrial-size machine when Luke sidled up to the counter.

  “Got a minute?” He glanced at his phone then held out his coffee cup with a little wag.

  Taking the mug, she filled it from the dispenser and handed it back to him. He slid the phone into his back pocket and gave her a steady gaze.

  “The intake nurse actually called me with an update on the baby. She sustained a nerve injury in her neck during the crash, which caused her breathing and pulse to slow down. It’s going to take a few days, but it should resolve on its own. She’ll be just fine.”

  Her fingertips went cold. She’d shoved a baby with a nerve injury through a broken window. Carefully, yes, but still. What the hell had she done?

  “Did I…did I injure her more by moving her the way I did?”

  He blinked. “She’s going to be okay, Greer.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  His shoulders bumped up and down in a noncommittal shrug. “Getting her out of the vehicle was best for her at the time. She’s alive. She’s going to recover. You did your job.”

  Doing her job wasn’t worth a thing if she hurt someone in the process. Causing harm and further injury was not in her damn job description, nor did it sit well with her conscience.

  “Did I?” she pressed.

  Nothing about how she’d handled that baby’s care had felt right, and she hadn’t been able to shake the nagging voice in her head that said she’d dropped the ball.

  “Could you have hurt her? Sure. But you didn’t.” His expression went soft, his eyes tender. “I’ve got to run, but we’ll catch up later, okay?”

  She filled a new coffee filter with fresh grounds and set it aside. “Sure.”

  With a final glance, he turned and left. The room began to shrink, the space narrowing, the air growing thick. She’d never been one for “what-ifs,” yet the thought of all that could have gone wrong for that baby hung over her like a black cloud. The stronger voice in her mind said she needed to shut down the second-guessing or she was never going to survive this job.

  But she couldn’t stop playing the doubt on repeat. She’d assured Luke she could handle things, and she really needed to get her shit together and prove that she meant it.

  To him, and herself.

  Chapter Three

  Luke stood outside Greer’s town house door and knocked for the third time.

  Music came from inside, and her Jeep was out front. Knowing her, she was locked inside her spare room, painting, oblivious to the rest of the world. Dragging out his cell phone, he threw her a text.

  A minute later, she threw the front door open with a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

  “About damn time,” he teased. He was about to step inside but paused. She must have thought she didn’t open the door wide enough, so she pulled it back some more. But that wasn’t it. He couldn’t stop staring.

  Stretchy black shorts clung to her hips, and a pink tank top left little to the imagination. A few streaks of paint marred the fabric across her chest, drawing his attention even though he shouldn’t look. He glanced down to avoid her breasts and was met with long, silky bare legs and bare feet with purple-painted nails.

  He swept her with a gaze he couldn’t control. Holy shit, he’d never forgotten how pretty she was but this…this wasn’t the reminder he was expecting. His mouth went dry, the tips of his fingers tingled, and it took all his will not to pull her into his arms.

  “Uh, what brings you by?” The hesitation in her voice snapped him out of his daze. She’d obviously noticed him checking her out. What was he thinking, ogling her like that?

  Sex. Messy, dirty, hot sex.

  “Food.” He tried to recover. “You’re coming to dinner with me.”

  Amusement lit her face. “Food? Okay, if you’re sure you’re not having a stroke or something.”

  She waved him in and turned to shut the door. He watched—he couldn’t help it—and groaned quietly to see how those shorts smoothed over her full, round ass. She looked down at herself, and he felt a pang of chagrin that she’d caught him staring again. How many neighborhood boys had he beat bloody for staring at her the way he was right now?

  Too damn many to count. He took his role as her self-appointed bodyguard seriously back then.

  Her cheeks flushed pink. “I should change.”

  No way. Luke almost blurted the words. He scratched the back of his neck and gave himself a pinch. He needed to turn t
his around, quick.

  “What are you painting?”

  Maybe the topic change would put his libido back in its place. She had always been a natural artist. It impressed him how she was technical enough to be a lawyer, yet creative enough to give any contemporary painter a run for the money.

  “Just dabbling with something new.”

  He followed her down the short hall to the living room, where he plopped down on her white couch. Instinctively, he flipped over his palms and checked the fabric to see if he’d left a grease mark, a silly habit considering he hadn’t been a grease monkey in forever. The television was on and angled so she could see it from the doorway of the room where she painted.

  “Dabbling with what?”

  Her voice came from the bathroom behind him. “I’m not really sure what it’s going to turn out to be yet.”

  Absently, he looked at the television and did a double take. A thin young woman was lying back on a table, her small breasts bare and peaked with dusky nipples. A shirtless man held a tie or belt or something in his hands as he moved between her legs.

  Luke’s eyebrows shot up, and he gave a casual look over his shoulder, half expecting Greer to be standing there. Just what the fuck was this? She couldn’t watch an onscreen kiss without looking away or covering her face with a pillow.

  His cock twitched, and he adjusted himself with a sly hand. Satisfied that she wasn’t behind him, he whipped back to the TV just in time to see the woman hold her arms out for the man to tie her wrists together. He whispered her name, Anastasia or some shit like that, and leaned down to kiss her.

  He shifted his weight on the couch. Greer was addicted to the Lifetime channel, where at most, you might get a flash of tongue. He was pretty sure the guy on screen had just showed a side of dick.

  The on-screen woman turned her head, her breasts rising and falling with the heaving of her chest as the man leaned in to kiss her neck. He paused and raised one eyebrow, his face taking on a slightly twisted expression, like he had something more painful or tortured in mind than a simple kiss. But then he started working his mouth down her body, and the chick moaned. His face went hot. Jesus Christ. If he hadn’t shown up, Greer would be watching this all alone.