“Yeah.” I sniffled. I’d have to call Emberlee and Mariska. They were going to be devastated, but at least they would have people around them to hold them as they cried.
The Christmas music was drowned out as the ambulance turned down our street and pulled up in front of Primrose House. The sirens abruptly stopped, but they were here.
“The EMTs will be coming in, Lyla. Don’t be frightened as they rush into the house. Jason and Ozzi are very capable, and they’ll take good care of Eloise. I’m going to hang up now, but if you need anything, anything at all, you give me a call. Nellie at the front desk in emergency will be looking out for you too. Take care of yourself.”
“Thank you so much, Sandy.” The call ended and I slipped my phone back into my pouch. I bent forward and ran my hand over my housemother’s head again. “They’re here, Miss Eloise. You’re going to be fine.”
There wasn’t even a twitch. Not a single movement.
A loud knock from the front door echoed through the house. “Paramedics!”
I put my hand near her mouth and nose. Nothing. “In here!” My yell teetered on hysterics.
Miss Eloise wasn’t breathing.
CHAPTER TWO - Jason
Ozzi and I carried the gurney rather than wheel it through the snow. The drive and walkway were shoveled, but it was faster for us to maneuver this way. We trotted up to the porch, our steps in sync.
Each of my senses were on high alert as they were every call. Sometimes there were protective dogs or panicked people on drugs. That was as scary as it got in Fond du Lac. Saying the town was sedate would be a fucking understatement. Right now, the most frightening thing was that we were Alphas about to enter Primrose House.
Even as I knocked on the door and announced ourselves, I was hesitant to go in. No Alpha had ever set foot in the house. It was sacred ground for Omegas, and everyone respected that. As a townie, I knew Eloise and vaguely remembered her husband and son while they were alive, but I was too young to remember Primrose House as anything other than what it was now.
“In here!” Someone shouted from within.
“Sandy said they were in the kitchen.” Ozzi nodded to me, and I swung open the door. The delicious scent of baking cake wafted over us along with the light feminine musk of Omega.
My Alpha instincts swelled, wanting me to rush in and rescue whoever was in trouble. The need to save everyone was what had led me to become an EMT, and it was safer for me to focus my instincts this way rather than being the type of Alpha that wanted to control everything. Sometimes I got too dangerously close to being that kind of bastard, and I’d fucked up too much in my life because of it.
My grip tightened on the gurney as we stepped inside to a house that was thoroughly decorated for Christmas. Tinsel loped along the tops of walls and a poinsettia sat on almost every table. A big fir tree twinkled with lights in the living room, and therewas already a pile of presents under it. Even each post on the banister was dressed as a unique snowman.
Despite it being a large old Victorian, it was cozy and welcoming. I didn’t know what I expected to see in a space just for Omegas, but this could have been any family’s home.
Following the Christmas music, I led the way to the kitchen and swung open the door. Out of habit, I announced our presence again. “Paramedics!”
Inside the large kitchen, my focus went to the older woman on the floor. She was on her side as she should be. We’d gotten texts from Sandy saying it was a stroke. Time was of the essence.
Ozzi and I didn’t even have to say anything. We automatically lowered the gurney and went down to our knees.
“Please. She isn’t breathing!” The trembling voice and sudden intoxicating honey sweet fruity scent expanded my narrow vision to take in the gorgeous blonde on the floor with us.
Holy shit. Lyla Berg. I knew her, but didn’t really. In my head, she was an internet sensation. Her reels about Fond du Lac had pulled me in a few years ago that I kept watching even when her content was mostly about fashion and food now.
She was even more beautiful than how she looked in pictures. It didn’t matter that her golden locks were mussed and her big blue eyes shimmered with tears. Every inch of me was electrified, needing to take a hold of her and comfort her. I would smash down everything that upset her just to see her smile.
“Patient unresponsive.” Ozzi was keeping his shit together way better than me. He'd put on his gloves and turned Eloise onto her back, checking her over. Then he dug into the kit on the gurney and pulled out the bag-valve mask. “Starting CPR. Jason, count off.”
I swiftly yanked on a pair of latex gloves and positioned my hands just below Eloise’s sternum. My heart hammered, cursing myself for getting distracted. “One, two, three…”
Thirty chest compressions and then two pumped breaths. Repeat.
We did four rounds before Eloise gasped in a lungful of air. She didn’t wake, but she was breathing on her own again.
Lyla let out a strangled cry and reached to touch Eloise’s shoulder. “Thank God!”
“Miss, we’re going to lift the patient onto the gurney. Please stand back.” Ozzi shifted beside Eloise’s head and shoulders, and I moved to be even with her hips on the same side. Neither of us would have had any trouble moving the older woman on our own, but the direct ground lift technique was the safest and fastest way.
I was more than aware of Lyla backing away and gripping the counter of the kitchen island to stand up. Her quivering breaths came quickly, and heat radiated off her body.
