Page 64 of Rescuing Rebecca
“That sounds high-risk.”
Never one to sugarcoat with bullshit, Jamie gave him a truthful response, “It is high-risk, but I’ve done this type of surgery before in far less ideal circumstances. So, trust me when I say, I’ll take every measure possible during the procedure to give her the best chance for a full recovery. We all will.”
Reassured, Grant nodded. “What can I do?”
“Stay out of the way and keep Gray from knocking you unconscious with a snow globe once she sees what you’ve done to your stupid face.”
Grant harrumphed, because really, the good doctor wasn’t wrong about Gray’s propensity to react with violence. And cheese grated was an apt description for the damage he’d incurred when struck by the iceberg that had taken down the Titanic.
Exhausted by the effort expended to remain a functioning human with the ability to hold his own torso upright, he closed his good eye and rested the back of his head against his seat. Bad idea. The Black Hawk’s vibrations buzzed through his brain, making his neurons fizzle and pop like one of Eve’s Diet Cokes.
About to concede defeat by begging for something stronger than acetaminophen to help deal with the mother of all headaches, he put his plans on hold following the helicopter’s rapid deceleration and fast descent.
“Brace for landing,” Chase ordered, and still tending to his patients, Jamie grabbed for the equivalent of an oh-shit handle on the seat next to him while Zander made ready to unbuckle his harness in preparation for a quick and efficient offload of patients and crew.
Despite their full-speed-ahead approach, the wheels of the Black Hawk touched down with the slightest of bumps, a testament to the pilot’s skills, and while Chase initiated engine shutdown with an emergency rotor brake to reduce spin-down time, Zander went into full crew chief mode.
In seconds, he had the side door open, and once the blades had safely decelerated, he signaled to the ground team to approach. They arrived in a swarm, and with Jamie’s quick instructions, they prepared to transport Madelyn first.
Adam released the straps securing her litter to the floor, and with Jamie at the head of her stretcher, the two of them lifted her gently while Eve secured her IV. Total evac time, less than a minute.
Next in line in terms of proximity to the door, Grant held every grunt and groan inside as he released his harness and steadied his weight on legs that weren’t exactly inclined to hold him perpendicular.
Determined to disembark on his own, a cold sweat slicked over his skin as he shuffled his way to freedom. Jaw clenched and hands white-knuckled on anything he could get a hold of, he did his best impression of an old man while trying to blend into the background.
About as steady as a drunk after a three-day bender, he gritted his teeth and inched along until he teetered on the edge of the deck. And fuck him as a new realization set in upon arrival—exiting the helo without taking a three-and-a-half-foot header from the deck to the ground was an unlikely proposition.
God damn it. He had enough people mad at him already. No need to add further insult to injury by breaking the other half of his face because he was too stubborn to wait for help. Common sense prevailing, he swiveled his head in Zander’s direction, ready to make the request for an assist.
Wrong move.
His surroundings warped, and the world pulled a Matrix as a shockwave of pain pulsed through his head. His vision swam, and a dark haze crept around the peripheries of his brain, causing his center of gravity to malfunction.
Bile rose, burning an acidic path along his throat and souring his tongue.
He tried to hold himself steady, he really did, but his body betrayed him. His strength gave way, his knees buckled, and helpless, he pitched forward. In slow-mo, the frozen field rose up to greet him, and cursing his life, he braced for the hard impact with the earth below.
“He’s going over!” Zander shouted, and multiple sets of strong hands caught him. Lowered him to the ground. Held him vertical.
Heart pounding and stomach churning, he swallowed his wounded pride right alongside his vomit. “Thanks for the ride, guys.”
Cody snorted. “I have to carry Rebecca into the clinic. You good?”
Unable to look his rescuers in the eye after his fall from grace, Grant bobbled a weak nod while making a sad attempt to stand on his own two legs. “I’m good.”
Unconvinced, Cody huffed, “Davis, come get this dickhead.”
On the other side of him, Chase surrendered his duties as Grant’s left crutch over to Gray. “Where do you want him?” she asked, concern lowering the pitch of her voice as she jammed her shoulder into his armpit, propping him up like a flimsy tent with a broken pole.
“My room,” he mumbled, red-faced but grateful to be home.
Yeah, glad to be back with the people he cared about the most, he wanted nothing more than to ease his body down onto his oversized bed and sleep for the next day or two—maybe three. The familiar sounds and rhythms of his family going on with their day-to-day lives, the comforting lullaby for his healing slumber.
A dream crusher if there ever was one, Chase snorted. “He needs head and chest X-rays along with twenty-four-hour observation. Take him to the medical wing and park his ass on a bed.”
“And if he doesn’t stay?” she asked, knowing him far too well.
“If he wants to be an asshole, there’s nothing you can do about it.” Ignoring Grant completely, he bent his head and kissed her on the lips. “After we get Jay inside, I’ll need to come back here to deal with the Black Hawk, so I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”
