Worth the Risk(21)

She doesn’t have time.

Reese and her date, part of my circle of friends in the limo on the way to prom.

The ride is rough. We’re pitched every which way as my copilot and I battle for an equilibrium of sorts.

Reese strutting her stuff in her cheer uniform during a pep rally.

We pass over the highway. We skirt around a small aircraft that has even less business being out in this weather than we do.

Reese showing up to see if she could do anything to help me after Claire up and left. My pushing her the hell away because I didn’t need anything or anyone. I was too scared. Too angry. Too everything.

“She’s coding. Christ. Levi, grab it tighter!” I hear from the back, and I can only assume Levi is the paramedic whose fingers are currently somewhere in Reese’s leg, pinching her artery closed.

She’s just a patient. A faceless patient.

But she isn’t. She’s Reese.

I’m too damn close.

“She needs Melville,” I hear one of them shout to the other, referring to the only Level-I trauma unit in our area.

“Heads-up, Malone.” I look over at Charles, my copilot, and then track to where he’s pointing to the transponder and then back up to something I can barely make out through the storm. It looks like another small aircraft is directly in our flight path and near Sunnyville General.

“C’mon, Reese. Stay with us,” my flight nurse urges her.

“She needs MT,” I murmur to myself as I eye the small aircraft again and know that’s going to delay us when we have no time to waste.

“Dispatch, this is Spiderman in Mercy 445.”

“Mercy 445 this is dispatch, go ahead.”

“Change of plans. We’re headed to Melville.”

“Mercy 445, Sunnyville General is waiting for you.”

“No go. She needs a trauma unit.”

“Understood, but General is closer.”

“By ten minutes. Ten minutes where they’ll decide she should have gone to Melville because they don’t have the equipment to handle her injuries.”

“Mercy 445, dispatch is in disagreement.”

The radio crackles. The squelch squawks.

“Malone, this is Cochran. Your route is for Sunnyville General. Do not deviate from the plan. I need that bird and my crew on the ground ASAP. That is a direct order.”

I glance over to Charles, but he keeps his eyes straight ahead without saying a word. The muscle in his jaw pulses. I check the transponder and see the blip representing the small aircraft is no longer there, giving us a clear shot to Sunnyville.

I clear my throat. “Dispatch, there is a small aircraft in the flight pattern. It’s preventing us from having a swift delivery to General. We’re rerouting to Melville Trauma. Please inform them of our impending arrival.”

“Goddammit, Malone! Land that chopper.”

In my periphery, I see Charles do a double take my way, but I give him the same response he gave me. The less I acknowledge or involve him the better.

She needs the trauma unit.

That’s her only chance.

“Daddy.” Charles is tapping my shoulder.

“That’s an order, Malone!” It’s Cochran barking at me again.

“Daddy.” Another tap I choose to ignore. “Daddy.”

I startle awake.

The moon lightens the room—clear sky, not rain, and I’m in my bed, not in the cockpit.

“Luke? You okay, buddy?”

I scrub a hand over my face and try to clear the dream from my mind as he rubs his eyes and nods.

“I had a bad dream.” His voice is soft, almost embarrassed that he’s in here when he’s a whole eight years old.

I pull back the covers and pat beside me. “C’mon in. I was having one, too. Thank you for waking me up from it.” Too bad I can’t wake up from the reality of its aftereffects.

It takes him a second to climb onto the mattress beside me. He takes his time setting himself up in his favorite sleeping position—head atop of my bicep so my arm can curl around him with my hand on his belly and both of his feet propped up on my thigh.

“You good?” I murmur and press a kiss to the top of his head. Somehow, he can push away everything that bugs me, just like that. “Wanna tell me about your dream?”

He gives a soft shake of his head. “Too scary.” His voice is drugged with sleep.

“Okay, then think of the one thing that would make you the happiest in the world and focus on that.”

“If all the superheroes in the world could bring me a new mommy . . .”

Cue a knife going straight into my heart and twisting. Over. And over.

I pull him in tighter and press another kiss to the top of his head. “I know, buddy. You do have a mommy who loves you.” I perpetuate the lie I’ve always told him. “She just . . .” She was just too selfish to want to stay.

His soft snores fill the room, saving me from having to finish the sentence.

First my dream.

And then his wish.

Christ. Can I do anything right these days?





“That’s all, everyone. Great job. I think next month’s issue is going to be a great one.” The five contributing editors of the magazine begin to shuffle immediately. Papers rap against the conference table. Murmurs break out as the managing editor asks for a quick meeting with the opinion editor. The staff outside of the conference room window behind Rissa’s back scurry to their desks like they’ve been working this whole time.