“What are you doing? Get back inside!” he scolds me, nodding his head towards my apartment.
“Have you called in the shooting yet?” I say, plopping my bag down beside him.
“Yes.” His brows pinch together. I watch the restraint slowly drip off him when I grab gauze out of my bag. He moves his hand away willingly, allowing me space to pack his wound. “Back up and EMS are on their way. ‘Officer down’ always gets ‘em moving fast.”
“I know. I’m city EMS,” I let out on a breath. “When it’s you guys, we drive like we’re trying to get thereyesterday.” My eyes are fixed on his arm. The wound is a skim and doesn’t look like it went too deep. Just enough to cause bleeding but hopefully not deep enough to damage any muscular structures because… damn.
Despite that, blood soaks through his shirt, slick and dark under my hands as I press down hard over the wound.
He hisses, jaw clenching.
“Yeah, I know,” I mutter. “It’s gonna suck. But I don’t have very good pain meds in my kit.”
His wound is my priority, sure, but around that are his fucking muscles. This man’s never skipped arm day, that’s for sure. He will be while this heals though.
“Pressure’s gonna stay here,” I say, more to myself than him as I adjust my grip, using the heel of my hand to bear down. “You move and you’ll make it worse. So don’t.”
He lets out a short, breathless laugh that turns into a grimace. “Bossy.”
“Bleeding,” I counter. “Focus.”
For a second, our eyes meet. His are dark brown and alert, taking me in with a level of awareness that doesn’t quite match someone who’s just been shot. Adrenaline, I remind myself. And he’s not some crackhead after a deal went south.
“It doesn’t look too bad, skimmed your arm but it’s not too deep. I’m gonna need to cut away part of your shirt sleeve to get better access to it though. Responding EMS will need full access to stitch this.” I’m already pulling out a pair of scissors from my bag before he can even respond. I start cutting the sleeve above his wound, working with one hand while keeping pressure on his wound with the other.
“Can’t you do that yourself?” he chides, nudging my bag with his foot. “Looks like you’ve got a whole ambulance in there.”
Oh, so he’s a smartass. Great.
“Don’t be silly.” I stick the scissors back in the side pocket. “I can’t fit a Reeves stretcher in there. Although lights and a siren on top would be a good addition.”
The corner of his mouth crooks up for just a moment, silently telling me I got to him. “I don’t think I need to tell you that’s illegal.”
“Well, Iamemergency services.” I cast a knowing glance at him, noting his deep brown eyes. “And it’s not a vehicle either.”
He huffs something akin to a laugh, unknowingly making my insides twist.
“Who did this?” I ask, keeping my voice steady as I reach blindly into my kit for more gauze.
“Complicated,” he says dismissively.
“Try me.”
His gaze flicks past me, scanning the street like he’s expecting someone to come barreling back at any second.
“Cops were already here,” he mutters, “tracking someone.”
My stomach tightens. “The someone who just opened fire on police?”
His jaw clenches as multiple squad cars with lights and sirens going turn onto the street two blocks down. I’d been so wrapped up in thinking about his arm that I hadn’t heard them coming, very unlike me. Normally I’m way more attuned to the sound of sirens since I hear them all day.
We both turn and watch them stop near the other officer, who I’m now noticing isridiculouslybeefy, and are assisting him in taking into custody the two men, who were still laying on the ground.
By the time they’re done, the man rushes over to us just as a rig pulls up from the other direction. Jett and Alice jump out, Alice smiling at the sight of me while Jett perks a confused brow.
I’ve worked with them for years. Despite mostly working different shifts, Alice has become a close friend. Jett is… well, he’s a bit grumpy.
“What are you doing here, Liv?” Alice glides up to me, her perky blonde ponytail swaying as she moves.
