Valerie Hansen - Marked For Revenge

Rolling her eyes, Dee approached. “Gunshot wound. Dad told me. That’s why he came along.” When she got closer she lowered her voice and leaned in. “He’s been giving me fits again about being in a dangerous job. I keep reminding him I’m not law enforcement the way he is.”

Kaitlin grinned. “Does that help?”

“Nope.” She peered into the ambulance. “I guess I waited long enough. You got it cleaned up already.”

“We did,” Kaitlin said, still smiling. She checked the time. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to grab my purse and run in to see how our patient is doing.” To her chagrin, she felt herself blushing.

Dee picked up on the telltale sign immediately. “Oooh. Is he good-looking?”

“I’m worried about him, that’s all. Don’t you care when you transport a critical case?”

“Sure. And then I set that aside and move on. You’ll have to learn to compartmentalize if you expect to last at this job. You can’t get personally involved. It’ll drive you crazy.”

“I suppose you’re right. But he’s the first really critical patient I’ve worked on since I started here. Besides, there’s something about him that’s a puzzle. I must have seen him before. I just don’t know where or when.”

“Right.” Dee waved Kaitlin off. “Go on. Check on his condition if it will make you feel better. Then go home and get some rest.”

“I know I won’t be able to sleep until the adrenaline wears off. I can’t believe the rush I got. No wonder first responders love their jobs.”

“Most of them do,” Dee replied with a sigh. “I’m beginning to wonder if it’s time for me to get a different one, maybe teaching at a preschool or something safe like that.”

Kaitlin shuddered and shook her head. “Not me, thank you. Kids are scary, sticky, ornery and loud.”

“What are you going to do when you have your own?”

“I’m not. Ever,” Kaitlin vowed. “I know I’d make a lousy parent. I’d probably expect my kids to be doctors or lawyers and stars in their fields, to boot.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Her friend patted her on the arm. “I forgot what you went through.” She brightened. “But look where you ended up. At the top of your EMT class and already halfway to becoming a paramedic. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I know. Thanks.” With a sigh Kaitlin started to turn away. “Take it easy tonight.”

“Will do.” Dee cast a surreptitious glance at the waiting ambulance. “You never told me who your mystery man is. Anybody we know?”

“I don’t know him. I suppose we may have passed on the street, although I think I’d have remembered.” She blushed. “It should be against the law to look that good when you’re bleeding to death.”

Dee smothered a chuckle. “Hah! Well, let me know if he turns out to be interesting. You may not be in the market for a husband, but I am.”

Amusement at her friend’s candid remark stayed with Kaitlin. She located the injured man as they were wheeling him to a room. His leg was bandaged and his pupils were mildly dilated when she checked, meaning he had pain meds on board.

She made small talk with two nurses maneuvering the gurney. “How’s he doing?”

“Better than expected,” one of them said. “It was a through-and-through. Missed the femur. Came close, though.”

“What about a name? Did you get one?”

The other nurse giggled. “Depends on which one you pick. His wallet had two different IDs.”

“Really?” Now Kaitlin was really curious. She eyed the quiescent man. “When I first saw him I thought he looked familiar. What did he actually say?”

“Not much. He sure wasn’t happy when I found a police identification card with his picture on it tucked behind his fake driver’s license.”

“He’s a cop?”

“Apparently. Either that or he stole the wallet.”

Kaitlin stood back until the other two finished with the patient and left, then reached for his chart and began to read. Dave Roark? That didn’t ring any bells. Daniel Ryan? Kaitlin racked her brain. For some reason Daniel sounded right. She stared at his scruffy but appealing face, trying to picture him without the dark stubble. Something was bothering her. She just couldn’t put her finger on it.

“What happened to you?” she asked softly.

The patient looked asleep. It not for a flutter of his eyelids she might have thought he was comatose. Hearing was the last sense to go and she knew there was a chance he was picking up her questions even though he didn’t or couldn’t reply.

Replacing the chart, Kaitlin leaned over him and whispered, “Listen. You’re going to make it. We got to you in time but the next time you call an ambulance, we’d appreciate it if you didn’t take potshots at us. Understand?”

Did he? Judging by the way his right hand fisted the blanket covering him she assumed he was at least aware of her presence. “I’m going to leave you now,” she said. “Rest. Sleep as much as you can. I’ll be back in the morning to check on you. I promise. Daniel.”

As she touched his hand in a farewell gesture, his fingers moved the way they had when she’d thanked the Lord during transport. She gave the back of his hand a quick pat and stopped at the foot of the bed to check his toes. Both feet were equally warm, meaning his wounded leg had adequate circulation. Good.

Moisture gathered in her eyes. She smiled. Her first run with a severely injured trauma patient had been a success. All was well in her world. She wished she could say the same for the shooting victim.

* * *

Daniel peeked from beneath lowered lids to watch the concerned EMT leave the room. Judging by her questions she didn’t remember who he was. But he knew her. How could he forget? He’d broken department rules and received a strict reprimand when he’d allowed her to go home after she’d been caught up in a drug bust involving minors. What he saw now, the useful person Kaitlin had become, proved he’d been right to cut her some slack. Vindication felt good.

He grimaced. Yeah, it felt a lot better than his leg did. Talk about sore. It throbbed in time with his heartbeats and ached plenty in between despite many painkillers. But he was still alive. This might be an era of fantastic modern medical breakthroughs, but a man could still die in mere minutes from one bullet hole. The fact that the ambulance had found him before he’d bled out, in spite of the leather belt he’d tightened above the wound as a tourniquet, added to his sense of awe. And thankfulness.

“So, now what?” What, indeed? Daniel figured he was in the local hospital in Paradise. The problem was, they knew his real name now. If word got back to St. Louis and his whereabouts became common knowledge before he had a chance to make new arrangements, he was in big trouble.

Testing himself, he raised on one elbow. His vision blurred. His thoughts swam. They had him so doped up it was a wonder he was even conscious. The next time he was offered something to dull the pain he must refuse, he told himself. Hurting was better than dying because he was happy and clueless. If it became necessary for him to try to escape he’d need all his wits about him.

Further movement brought a core-deep groan. He gritted his teeth against the thoughts he couldn’t suppress. How far did the influence of the men who had ordered the hit on him spread? Could they have cohorts in Paradise? Maybe even the sheriff or town cops? It was certainly possible.

He trusted a few special officers in his home department, including the chief, but somebody on the inside had to have revealed his hiding place. Otherwise, the guy who’d punched a hole in his leg would never have located him.

Forcing his eyes to stay open, Daniel stared at the door. Anybody or anything could be on the other side. Watching. Waiting for a chance to finish him off. He knew that.