The suspect scaled the chain-link fence at the end of the block, flung himself over, and landed at an awkward angle.
David grabbed the top of the metal barrier and swung his leg up, aiming to brace himself with his boot, but missed. His bicep contacted the sharp edge, tearing a ragged path through his skin. Rolling over the fence, he staggered to his feet, and shoved his knee in Jimmy’s back.
“My leg’s broken.” The man struggled against David’s weight.
He fought to slow his racing pulse. “Don’t move.” Reaching for his zip ties, the sensation of a hot poker stabbing him exploded through his limb. He sucked in a quick breath and glanced at the warm liquid streaming down his arm.
Not what he wanted to deal with today. He had an important appointment tomorrow and refused to miss it for any reason. Including injury.
Unable to procure the restraints, he maintained his position and waited for his teammates.
Brandon rounded the corner and came to an abrupt halt. He handed him a set of handcuffs. “Here.”
David secured the suspect and straightened. His adrenaline faded, and light-headedness threatened to knock him over. “Thanks, man. What took you so long?”
“Stupid dog,” Brandon muttered and held Jimmy in place.
Thankful for his partner’s presence, David slid to the side, fell on his rump, and allowed Brandon to take charge.
David hung his head and gripped his arm to staunch the flow of blood.
Voices mingled in a chaotic buzz as blue and red lights whirled in the distance.
He lifted his chin and caught a glimpse of the paramedics rolling a gurney in his direction. The shrubs and metal fence along the medics’ path merged in his vision, then cleared. The haze threatened to take over again. He sucked in air, praying the tunnel disappeared.
He glanced at Jimmy. The man had broken his leg but hadn’t seemed to notice the pain. Oblivious, due to a recent dose of drugs, no doubt, the man continued to give Brandon fits.
“What’d you take, Jimmy?” His partner struggled to hold Jimmy on the ground.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jimmy jerked against Brandon’s hold.
Sandy and Rick jogged over.
“Sandy, check the house. Rick, check his pockets.” Brandon threw out commands.
“I’m on it.” Sandy tossed David a bandana and took off.
Rick crouched next to the suspect. “All right, Jimmy. Anything in your pockets that’ll hurt me?”
David’s shoulders sagged. His team had things under control.
Grip on the nasty cut, blood trickled between his fingers. His body begged him to go home and catch some shuteye, but the evening was far from over. Part of his team would continue with the search warrant while he and his partner escorted the idiot who’d run to the hospital. Probably not a bad idea since David probably required stitches. He wrapped the bandana around his bicep and pulled it tight with his teeth.
He grumbled and rose to his feet. Swaying, he scrambled to prop himself against the chain-link fence, giving himself a minute to catch his breath and regain his equilibrium.
Definitely not the way he wanted his day to end.
***
“Ambulance, coming in hot.”
“Oh, for the love of mud—you’re ridiculous.” ER nurse Jennie Nielson shook her head as Randy scurried by on his way to prep bays one and two. The young man was a great medical assistant, but the twenty-one-year-old’s sense of humor killed her.
She dashed to the entrance, unsure what she’d find.
The Pinewood Shores Emergency Department doors whooshed open, and the warm night air rushed in. Paramedics pushed a gurney through the doublewide entry.
An injured man thrashed on the slim white mattress, and two officers strode beside him. One with a limp.
