Page 20 of A Certain Appeal
“Sorry,” he mutters, making an effort to keep his face out of my décolletage, then snaps the collar into place. “You can release the pressure. We’ll get back on it once we get him on the stretcher. As soon as—” He nods to where EMT Two works with Darcy to get Charles off Jane. Charles is alert enough to contribute, and is escorted past the downed frame and away from the crowd. A moment later, the second EMT joins us.
“Ready?” the EMT beside me asks Jane, who gives him a thumbs-up.
I lift my fingers, relieved the handkerchief adheres to the woundso I don’t have to see it again. The other EMT moves to Jane’s feet, and they transition him to the gurney.
I get to my feet slowly, catching sight of the dried blood high on my bare leg and the grim state of my hands.Good lord, no wonder Charles fainted. My palms are coated, and there are dark red lines where Jane’s blood leaked between my fingers.
“Bennet?” Jane asks, his voice timid.
“Right here, hon.” I move to the gurney, taking his hand. He gives me a tight smile. Tears leak from the corners of his eyes, and I wipe them away with the base of my palm.
The EMT who helped with Charles approaches us. “Are you... family?”
“Roommates.”
“Company policy only allows family to ride along. We’re taking him to Beth Israel.”
“I’ll be right behind you,” I say. “Jane?”
Jane squeezes my hand. “X-rays and stitches and a check for a concussion.” He sighs, like the procedure is an inconvenience now that the shock has worn off. I guess that’s an advantage of growing up in a family of folks in emergency medicine: even head trauma loses its mystique. “Please check on Charles, though?”
Jane’s loaded into the ambulance, and the doors close as he waves goodbye. A police officer I didn’t see arrive raps twice on the back of the ambulance, and the vehicle takes off, sirens blaring.
The cop approaches me, asking for my information, and we sidestep another cop, who tapes off the scene. I briefly describe what I witnessed. As the officer jots it down on her notepad, I survey my clothing for splatter. The dark, patterned fabric conceals anything onmy dress, but the blood on my hands has dried, and the tight feeling makes my stomach lurch. I turn up my palms. My hands are shaking.
“May I?”
I start at the voice and find the officer gone, replaced by Darcy, who holds out a—I cock my head—awet-nap?
It takes me another second to realize what he’s offering. I nod and watch in dull silence as he takes my right hand by the wrist. His touch is light but secure as he moves the towelette along my palm, wiping down each finger individually before turning my hand over to inspect the back. The experience is oddly pleasant.
“Thank you.” My words are breathless. My hands are still shaking, my system coming down from the flood of adrenaline, but he doesn’t mention it.
Slowly, the blood fades from my hand.Hisblood, Jane’s...
“I saw his skull,” I say, thinking aloud.
Darcy pauses midwipe. “Seriously?”
I meet his eyes—goddamn, those lashes. “Yeah.”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then his nose wrinkles. “Ew.”
I don’t know if it’s the unfiltered response or an extension of my still being rattled, but I snort out a chuckle that bubbles into legitimate, albeit faintly hysterical, laughter. Darcy’s eyes soften.
“Yeah.” My laughter tapers off. “ ‘Ew’ is right.”
Smiling faintly, he starts work on my other hand. The wet-nap is spent, his action doing little more than smearing, but I’m not about to say anything as he continues attending to my fingers.
He grips my fingertips, the rust-colored wipe between us as he rubs at the creases of my knuckles. “You have long fingers.”
I huff out another shaky laugh. “Runs in my family. My mom can palm a basketball.”
He turns my hand palm-up as he continues to clean/smear. I must have been off about his impatience earlier, because he is taking his time. “And the calluses?”
“I climb.”
“Rock climbing?” His surprise is clear in his voice.
