Page 63 of Call Out
“I know her from my hometown. Her name is Zoe Palmer, and I have no idea why she’s in the car with Viv.”
Each sweep and search confirms there’s a strong chance of her survival until my hand runs lower. My spine locks. “Johnny.” I fight every instinct not to lose control. “We need the fire department. Her legs, Johnny. Her legs are trapped.”
With a thumping heart, I spread a beam of light below the steering wheel and gulp down a strangled breath. Shredded stockings steeped in crimson. Crumpled metal.
I don’t speak as Johnny tends to Zoe, instead my training takes over, and I continue to assess the damage. I stroke her cold cheek, biting back the curse of my life. I did this to her. “Come back to me, Viv. Please. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”
* * *
“Danny,will you let the docs do their part now.” Johnny squeezes my shoulder. “You did everything you possibly could.”
The thoughtful gesture is all but a numb movement as I watch from outside of my body. Detached. Void of speech. Spiraling into a panic where my beautiful Viv dies because of me.
It’s all my fault. I brought the danger. Jeff died because of me, and now the universe has sought revenge. What goes around comes around. If she doesn’t pull through, I’ll never survive.
My stomach knots. Pin pricks of fear rush down my arms, reminding me I’m alive when I should be fucking dead. I should’ve died beside Jeff that night. Instead, the paramedics strapped oxygen to my face and wheeled him away in a body bag. I recovered, left on the earth as a lonely shell—a victim of a terrible decision that has ripples of consequences. And this is one of those ramifications.
Zoe Palmer.
Vivian Swann.
Lives ruined because of one selfish man.
“You more or less saved her, buddy. When Viv wakes up, it will be because of the professional paramedic who treated her at the scene. Don’t forget that.” Johnny’s voice slithers through me like a bucket of eels emptying into freshwater.
“I’m the reason she’s in the fucking hospital,” I bark out.
I’d sat with her in the back of the ambulance, monitoring every slow heartbeat and shallow breath. I gulped back the lump in my throat when I cut off her stockings. It wasn’t seductive or savage from lust. Each snip of nylon was gentle and remorseful. Desire didn’t simmer, only stormy anger. A slow creep of scalding lava burned my flesh as the wounds on her fragile shins bled, covering my latex gloves.
“I called the retirement home to let them know.” Johnny tips a plastic cup to his mouth. “Fuck, this tastes terrible.” His lips smack as he fights against the acidic wash of vile hospital coffee. “I asked for details of her next of kin. It was a woman called Romona who died a few years ago. She doesn’t have anyone else.”
My hands fist. My woman is as much a victim of death as I am. “She’s got me. I’m her next of kin.” Those words crackle from my throat like shards of sharp glass. “It doesn’t need to be written on a stupid piece of paper.” The weight of my admission fuels the responsibility I lumber. It’s not that I don’t want it—I don’t deserve it.
“Who is Zoe Palmer?” That question cuts through the room like a samurai sword. There’s no point holding back now. The worst has been done. Johnny will find out eventually.
“Have you ever had a best friend who was more like a brother? Your partner in crime. The guy who cheered hard when you scored a goal and punched harder to steal the last candy.” My knees feel like jelly as I pace. “I was driving the car that killed him. Zoe was his girlfriend. They’d had a fight. I was taking him home. Jeff had a short fuse. I was being a friend. He didn’t see it that way.”
“Jeff.” Johnny nods like he’s piecing it all together.
“I couldn’t remember what happened. Some trauma bullshit. Zoe handed the police a verbal account of the exact moment it all went wrong. It was recorded on her voicemail. Jeff yanked the steering wheel. He wasn’t wearing a seat belt. He died while I was unconscious. I had to pick up the pieces of my life with Zoe.” I bury my face in my hands, inhaling the astringent cleanser. “I moved away from my hometown for a fresh start. Not to forget, but to try and live the life I was blessed to still have. I dedicated my career to helping others, so they’d never lose a friend or a lover or a son.” The room spins. “I’ve been fighting an internal battle ever since that night. Then I met Viv. She calms the turmoil within me. She eases the hatred I hold against myself. Viv chases the loneliness and completes it with peace.”
A hand curls around my elbow. “I think that’s called love, buddy.”
“I don’t deserve her love,” I snap. “I’ll do everything in my power to rectify this situation, and then I’ll leave Sunnyville, so she can move on without me. I’m a fucking curse. She’s worthy of so much more than a broken man with a jinx of death hanging over him.”
“Excuse me. Are you guys here for Vivian Swann?” A nurse smiles down at us. “She’s asking to see her boyfriend, Danny Rocco. The police want to take her statement.”
My chest tightens. “She’s awake? Her legs? Is she okay?”
Johnny stands and snares my hand, heaving me up before him. His brow creases. “You’re all she’s got. She’s asking for you.” His grip tightens. “This isn’t just a situation or a consequence of your actions. It’s life, Danny. And life is messy and imperfect. None of us are ready for what fate throws our way. All we can do is buckle up with those we love and ride the storm, knowing the better days are worth all the battering. I’m your buddy now too. I grill amazing fucking steak. I’ll give you my secret recipe, so you can host the next cookout. Viv is your woman. She loves you for who you are. The universe gifted you with a second chance at happiness. Don’t mess it up by wallowing in the past and running away. She’s safe and asking for her boyfriend.” He draws me in for a hug and slaps my back. “Take her home.”
“Viv?” Danny meets my gaze, then lowers his lashes. “I’m so sorry.” Dark crescents hang under sad eyes, and he folds his arms, hesitating at the end of my bed.
Hours have flown by in a blur. I’ve undergone emergency surgery and puked out the poison Zoe forced on me. “You saved me, Danny.” I try to push up on the bed, wincing at the pinch in my stitches. The numbing agent is wearing off, and my body aches like I’ve been hit by a truck—or a tree. “You came to my rescue.”
“I was called out, Viv. It could have been any of the other crew.” His worried gaze assesses the crisp sheets to a dirty yellow bruise visible at my temple.
“But it wasn’t anyone else. It was you. The surgeon explained how my paramedic appeased the bleeding long enough to save my right leg. Your quick responses mean I’ll get to walk again. You’re my hero.”
