“What are you doing? Let’s go!”
“His leg is caught on something. Scottie, use those other spreaders to widen this space,” he commands, and Scottie springs into action.
“Aw, shit. Scottie, stop,” Paul says a second later, his body blocking my view.
“What is it?” I demand.
“The brake pedal broke his shin and is caught on his tibia, where it’s sticking through the skin. If we raise that dash any more, that bone will snap again, and it’s likely they won’t be able to repair it.”
I appreciate that Paul’s using language indicating Taylor’s still alive.
“I’ve got it,” a small EMT says, wedging herself behind Paul, under the dashboard. Her gloved hands work fast, and when she resurfaces, they, like mine, are covered in Taylor’s blood. “Okay, try it now.”
We manage to get him out the rest of the way and lay him on the stretcher. His perfect lips are blue, reminding me of his jet skiing injury, and I’m so fucking tired of seeing him injured. I want to kiss him so badly, to breathe life into him, but the EMTs are edging me out of the way. I allow it because Taylor needs them more than he needs me right now.
An officer comes to stand next to me as I watch the EMTs check for Taylor’s vitals before panicking that they can’t find any.
“Someone said you know that kid? I’ll need to alert his family. What can you tell me?”
“He’s not a kid,” I hear myself say in a robotic voice as I watch in horror while they place an AMBU bag over Tay’s face and start manually pumping air into his lungs. “His name is Taylor Landry. He’s twenty-four. His parents live on South Reynard Ave.”
Once the EMTs have him loaded in the ambulance, I leave the officer with my number and climb into the back with him before they close the doors.
The medical personnel eye me curiously.
“I’m not getting out of this ambulance until we’re at the hospital, so don’t waste time by saying stupid shit and reading me the rules. Just save his life.”
As soon aswe arrive at the hospital, they rush Taylor to surgery. His pulse was so faint it took the machine to detect it, and he still wasn’t breathing on his own. They said it was most likely because of punctured or collapsed lungs.
His chances are slim.
I’m sitting in the waiting area outside the OR. Because I still have my fire pants, jacket, suspenders, and Engine 286 T-shirt on, the nurses provide me with updates and allow me to stay. Perk of being a first responder. They think I’m invested because I pulled him from the wreck…and I don’t correct them. Especially because eventually his parents will show up, and I know Taylor hasn’t told them about our relationship.
Tay’s only been in surgery for fifteen minutes when I spot Livvy coming down the hall with her parents behind her.
I’m unsure how to play this, and I’m too emotionally drained to give it much thought. Thankfully, I don’t have to when Livvy runs to me and throws her arms around my neck, sobbing.
“Please tell me he’s going to be alright,” she cries.
I squeeze her to me, thankful to have someone close to Taylor in my arms. Someone who knows what he means to me.
“He’s a fighter, Liv. He’s going to pull through,” I say, even though I have no idea.
“He was on his way to see you,” she tells me.
That hits like a thunderous punch to my gut. Once I realized it was Taylor in that car, I had completely forgotten where we were…the exit to my house.
“How’d they know to call you?” she asks.
“They didn’t. I, uh, I was on call at the fire station.” My attempt at a deep breath fails as my voice cracks for the last part. “I pulled him from the wreck.”
She finally assesses my outfit and lets out a gasp. “Ohmygod. I know it’s selfish of me and probably hella traumatic for you, but I’m really glad you were there with him.”
“I’ll be here until he walks out of this hospital,” I reply with full conviction.
“He was a mess,” she continues. “He called me as soon as he landed. He felt terrible for leaving you the way he did. I agreed that he should go to your house. He wanted to surprise you,” she wails, still clinging to me.
Cupping her face, I try to calm her hysteria despite feeling my own welling inside me.
