Page 34 of Nothing At All

“I’ll walk in with you. Know if Allison’s here?” Maybe having her cousin at her side would make her feel better.

“Yes.” The word emerged muffled, choked. I walked behind her up the steps, still prepared if she was unsteady again. This situation was outside my wheelhouse. Should I have called for a bus? I mean, the arrival time was like three minutes. An ambulance wouldn’t have been faster than that.

I reached to open the door for her and ushered her through. An older couple sat in the chairs on the back wall, holding hands. At the intake desk, Nicole talked to Lorraine Williams in a low voice.

Before she even finished, Allison appeared behind Lorraine and swung open the heavy door between the waiting room and the ED itself. Her blue gaze skimming from Nicole to me and back to her cousin, she pointed toward the hallway behind her. “Room three. I’ll be right with you.”

Face white and eyes wide with panic, Nicole looked at me before following her cousin’s directive. Her shoulders slumped, her whole body curled in on itself.

An agitated male voice rose from a room beyond my line of sight. I frowned at the aggressive tone, and Lorraine glanced over her shoulder, then pinned her sharp glance on me. “Can you step back here?”

“Yeah.” I moved through the hallway, door closing behind me with a definitive thump.

“She doesn’t need that.” An exam room door jerked open, so I caught a glimpse of the owner of the male voice. My stomach dropped. Reese, from Haynes County’s sheriff’s office. “Come on, Stacy.”

“Sir.” Jay Mackey’s voice drifted from the room. A few years older than me, Mackey had grown up a couple of houses down. He’d been back from medical school a year or so, working in the ER.

“She’s fine,” Reese bit out.

“Ma’am–”

“Don’t talk to her. I said move, Stacy.”

“Ma’am, you don’t have to–”

“She ain’t talking to you. Get the fuck out of the way.”

Mackey stepped in front of Reese as I reached the door. “She needs–”

Reese shoved him. Mackey didn’t move, feet planted.

“Sir.” I placed myself between Reese and Mackey, palm out. The woman with him shrank back, cradling her forearm. A bruise bloomed on her cheekbone.

“Honey, you can stay,” Lorraine said, and I caught a glimpse of her from the corner of my eye. Down the hall, the ambulance bay door opened to admit Santillan and Williams with a stretcher. Reese’s face reddened, his gaze darting from me to her. “You don’t–”

“Shut up,” Reese snarled. I tensed, aware Williams – not just a paramedic, but also Lorraine’s husband – had honed in on the conversation and Lorraine’s presence. “Fucking bitch.”

“Hey.” Williams strode forward, heavy brows pulled together in a fierce scowl.

Oh, shit.

I held up a hand, a visual halt. Reese glowered, face red, and I needed backup. I reached for my radio. Reese clocked the movement, fury blazing over his features.

The chair by the door screeched over the tile floor. Movement flashed at the corner of my vision. Reflex lifted my arm.

Pain exploded in my forearm, then my nose. Fuck. Warm wetness flooded over my mouth, a metallic smell buzzing up my nostrils. I rocked back, but stayed on my feet. The chair clattered to the floor.

I reached for my cuffs.

Reese lunged. I sidestepped, fumbling with my cuffs case.

A blur of navy and white moved on the edges of my vision.

My foot tangled with a solid leg.

One boot skidded on the floor.

And Reese’s weight hit my chest, my back slamming to the floor. The ceiling swung above me, fluorescent lights bright as the breath whooshed from my lungs.