Page 17 of Waiting for Sunshine

“Fuck!” Tucker yells. Shane’s body jerks, her eyes now more present at the moment, but I am up and over to help detain the guy before I can check on her again.

“Tuck, talk to me, you good?” I ask, never taking my eyes off Shane.

“Yeah man, fucker cut me pretty deep though.” Shane’s eyes start darting all around the room, and I nod Tuck over to talk to her. I can’t very well do it while holding this piece of shit in his place. When all I want to do is go make sure she is okay.

After Tucker manages to get Shane to calm down a little bit and call the police; they are there in a matter of minutes. I hand him over and give my statement as quickly as fucking possible so I can finally go see if she is okay. I grab some ice, wrap it in a towel, and hold it to her face, brushing her blonde hair away from her tear-stained cheeks.

“How are you?” I ask. I know it’s probably a dumb question, but I need to hear her sweet voice answer me. I need to hear her say she is okay. Her eyes still hold a look of vacancy behind them. She begins shaking her head as her ocean-blue eyes, now accompanied by red, look up at me. Everything inside of me breaks, seeing how scared she is.

“How did you stay so calm?” she asks, her voice hoarse. I take a deep breath in, changing the position of the ice on her face and wiping the dripping water from her cheek.

“It’s just kind of instinct at this point,” I answer vaguely. She nods her head and hugs her arms closer to her body; I want nothing more than to replace her arms with my own, and hold her until she feels safe again.

“Because of your time as a Navy SEAL?” I nod my head in response.

“After 12 years it becomes second nature to run towards danger and protect others.” I shrug. I don’t mean for it to sound like no big deal. It’s actually a very big deal to me, but it’s also true that it feels like second nature. The response from Tucker and me tonight was just normal for us.

“Thank you.” She says, her voice barely a whisper. I look at her in confusion.

“For what?” I ask, unsure why she feels the need to thank me for something like that.

“Well, you probably just saved my life, Max. That’s a big deal to me. You showed up and protected me – and while I’m sure you would have done it for anyone. Thank you anyways.” She’s right. I would have done that for anyone. It’s also in my nature to protect those who can’t protect themselves.

What she doesn’t know is I wouldn’t have seen red for anyone else, I wouldn’t want to comfort anyone else the way I want to comfort her right now. I wouldn’t have had the mind to rip that fuckers arms straight off of his body for slapping anyone else. Only her.

“You’re welcome, Sunshine. You’ll always be safe around me.” I assure her as I drop the towel of melted ice into the sink.

“As much as I hate the thought of you having to drive yourself home after this, I should really get Tucker to the hospital to get stitched up. Are you sure you’re okay? Is there anyone we can call to come pick you up?” she looks at the clock, as it’s past midnight at this point, and shakes her head.

“No, I’ll be fine. He definitely needs to get stitched up soon.” She goes to walk away then turns back to face me.

“If you take him to the ER off of Church Street, my friend Taylor is an ER nurse there, she’s great. She’ll recognize you both.” She grins and her cheeks begin to flush.

“Thanks, will do.” I reply, waving as she walks through the kitchen and out the back door. Everything inside of me hates that I’m not driving her home.

* * *

When we get to the Emergency Room, Tucker has a fresh bar towel wrapped around his sliced hand. I look around trying to figure out which nurse is Taylor. It would have been smart of me to get a description, or a last name even. I walk up to the front desk and notice the older lady sitting there, typing away on the computer.

“Excuse me, I am looking for a nurse named Taylor, is she here?” Before the lady can answer, a fiery redhead walks up beside me, holding a chart in her hand.

“Who’s asking?” she says loudly, side-eyeing me while still holding the paper from the chart open.

“You Taylor?” I ask, standing straight from the desk to face her. When I’m completely facing her a look of realization comes across her face.

“Oh, hey. You’re Shane’s boss, right?” she closes the chart and her body language shifts.

“Yeah, I’m Max, my friend has a deep cut in his hand and needs stitches.” She looks behind me and sees Tucker holding the towel to his hand.

“Oh, martini man. Sure, yeah. Bring him on over, I’ll get him fixed up.” Her voice is so cheery now as we walk over to a triage area with Tucker.

“So how’s my girl doing at work? Busting her ass I’m sure.” She says so confidently.

“Yeah, she’s doing alright,” I answer vaguely. Not sure it’s my place to tell her about the broken glasses, the frozen terminal, or, oh yeah, the fact that she was just held at gunpoint,even though it turned out to be a fake,and slapped across the face by some idiot.

“Probably a little shaken up after tonight though, I’m sure.” Tucker pipes up. So, I guess it’sTucker’splace to tell her then.

“What do you mean?” her brows furrow as she stops prepping the tray she’ll be working from to stitch up Tuck’s hand. I shoot him a warning look and he shrugs apologetically. I turn back to face Taylor who is staring daggers into my soul now.

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