Hero Worship by Kris T. Bethke

Author:Kris T. Bethke [Bethke, Kris T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-01-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

It was three o’clock in the morning before I finally got home. I had been right; the situation with the weather and the roads had made for a busy night. Worst of all, there had been an accident on the highway. A tractor trailer had skidded and overturned, resulting in a twenty-seven-car pile-up. Every ambulance company in the area had sent any available bus to help deal with the injuries. And some of them had been horrific.

My patient had been an eight-year-old little girl. Her leg had been crushed when the minivan she was riding in careened headlong into the car in front of them, then flipped. She’d been partially trapped when the side of the van dented, and it had taken a bit of work to free her. She didn’t stop screaming for her mother until shock set in. I had worked frantically to stem the blood loss as my partner drove as quickly as she could to the nearest hospital. I had done everything I knew how to help her, but by the time we pulled into the emergency room, I wasn’t certain if she would live. I knew for sure they wouldn’t be able to save her leg. And I sure as hell couldn’t tell her that her mother hadn’t made it.

I was cold down to the bone when I opened my front door, and the blast of heat did nothing to help. I stripped off my boots and coat in the entryway and shuffled into the living room. These were the hardest kinds of things I faced in my job, but at the moment, I was numb. I couldn’t process it.

Matt was still awake, and he stood up quickly when I came into the room. I was vaguely aware that news coverage of the accident was playing on the TV in the background. He opened his mouth, perhaps to ask me if I’d been there, but he took one look at me and shut it. Without a word, he walked close. But when he reached out for me, I pulled away. I had cleaned up and changed out of my uniform at the station, because it had been soaked in that little girl’s blood, but I still felt like I was covered in it. He seemed to understand. His face softened, and he took hold of my hand.

I gripped his tightly, as if it were a lifeline.

Without a word, he led me to the bathroom and turned on the shower. While the water heated up, he stripped me of my jeans and sweatshirt. I stood there docilely and let him. Part of me wanted to pull away, to tell him I could do it myself and I didn’t need his help. But the other part, the bigger part, needed the contact. I needed him to take care of me.

When steam was filling up the bathroom, he opened the door and gave me a gentle nudge inside. I obliged, standing under the water and letting it pour down on my head.

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