Page 51 of Raven's Curse
This was the real Chase Remington.
The man beneath the easy banter and stunning smile. The medic who’d brought his brothers back from behind enemy lines. Who’d given everything, even when he’d suspected it was a losing battle.
The guy who never quit.
They reached the edge of the tree line as sirens sounded in the distance, more blue lights flickering in the fog. They charged across the field, Greer checking for more wires until they reached the cruiser, then over to her SUV. She flung open the back, just like with Rhett, helping Chase ease Eli onto the surface. Blood soaked his clothes, his skin an eerie gray.
Eli reached for her, his lips moving. What looked like, “You.”
She shushed him and squeezed his hand. “Save your strength. Cavalry’s nearly here.”
Chase pushed more meds, looking back when Kash and Jordan rolled up in Kash’s truck. They jumped out, Kash yelling something across a radio before taking point, Nyx vibrating at his side.
Jordan moved in close, mouth pinched tight. “Bodie called when Eli missed his check-in. Foster and Mac are already on their way. Luckily, they’d joined us for dinner. Were only five minutes from the hangar.”
Chase gestured toward the street. “Let’s get to the main road. Save whatever time we can.”
That’s all Greer needed. Two seconds and she had the door open, keys sliding into the ignition. Another couple and the engine revved, gravel spraying out from beneath the tires as she swung the Bronco around and took off. Keeping it as smooth as possible.
Chase muttered in the background, either to himself or Eli. The low sound sending shivers down her spine. She’d heard that same tone with Rhett, then the others. Chase’s way of trying to bend fate — align it to his will.
She hit the pavement just as a chopper soared overhead, thrashing trees and branches as Foster banked hard to the right, somehow landing a heartbeat later. Greer swerved onto the shoulder, jumping out while the chassis still rocked beneath her, the engine humming in the background. Chase barely waited for the hatch to open before he had Eli in his arms as he raced toward the helicopter.
Greer beat him by a step, opened the doors wide, then gave him a boost. She hopped in, leaving her Bronco idling on the side of the road, closing the doors and strapping in before Foster lifted the machine and tipped it forward. The chopper shook, dipped a bit, then picked up speed, soaring over the towering pines as Foster angled it northward.
Chase hooked up more tubes, had the defibrillator on standby. That inevitable crash she knew lurked in the shadows, waiting to strike.
He glanced over at her, frowned, then checked Eli’s vitals. “Greer. Sweetheart you look like you’re going to tank.”
She swallowed, nearly puked, but waved him off. How he had time to worry about her, too, mystified her. “I’m fine.”
His frown deepened, but he didn’t call her bluff, cursing as he pressed against Eli’s neck. “No pulse.” He leaned over Eli — started compressions. “Foster. Brother any more speed you can get out of this baby would be appreciated.”
Another round of shaking as Foster urged the aircraft faster, the interior vibrating from the strain. An alarm sounded from the cockpit, crushed a moment later as Foster pressed in some buttons. Greer shifted closer, manning the bag as Chase counted it down, nodding whenever he reached zero, pausing only when he shocked Eli’s heart. Eli lurched with each hit, that unforgiving tone sounding in the background.
Chase shook his head. “Come on, Eli. Hang in there.”
Time blurred, freezing then rushing ahead. The chopper ride fading into a dash through the hospital. The frantic race filled with white coats and bright lights.
She stopped outside the trauma room, blood sticky against her skin, every muscle twitching. She shivered, too tired to worry about the bone-deep chill seeping through her veins. Her clothes reeked of death and old leaves, most of her equipment beyond saving.
A hand landed on her shoulder, the heavy weight nearly taking her to her knees. She glanced up, the undeniable truth written across Chase’s face.
He curled his fingers around her arm. “You need to get into some dry clothes before you’re their next patient.”
She shook her head, focusing on the room. On the flurry of motion, everyone darting around in some form of controlled chaos. “I can’t leave him.”
“Greer. There’s nothing more you can do but wait. You’re not helping anyone by worsening your hypothermia.”
She huffed but followed him to a locker room, grabbing a quick shower before pulling on scrubs and an oversized hoodie. Chase’s or maybe Foster’s. Either way, it took away a bit of the chill. Gave her back a modicum of humanity.
The hard vinyl chair creaked as she collapsed into it, elbows braced on her knees, hands laced together as she stared at the floor. Snippets of the night played in her mind. The ghostly cruiser, its blue strobes glowing in the fog. The mechanical chirp breaking the silence. Eli’s eyes as he’d fisted her shirt — searched her gaze for something she wasn’t sure he’d found.
People rushed past, wheeling patients along the hallway. Nurses called out vitals, the glass doors opened and closed as a clock marked out time, each tick stealing more of her sanity.
She’d failed.
Again.
