Page 66 of Backdraft
What if…
No, no, no, no. Taylor refused to consider the what-ifs. He’d learned that when he was an ER trauma doc.
Normally, he avoided the hospital. It wasn't his favorite place to be, but this time, he had no choice. Drea had listed him as her emergency contact, and that’s why he'd been notified. Someone he cared about was hurt. She needed him, and he had to be there. She trusted him, inducing him to overcome his own reluctance to attend a place that held bad memories for him. But he had to help her
He had to find a way…for Drea.
Chapter Twenty
It was frustrating the message didn't give details other than she was burned and was unconscious. There was no explanation of the severity of her injuries, and damn, if his mind didn't go to the worst-case scenario.
Helplessness filled him. It was a distinct reminder of his failure from before. His hands itched, and he had the overpowering urge to be the one to care for her.
But he couldn't. Shouldn't. He'd learned that lesson once and wouldn't repeat it.
Drea would be tended by other doctors in the ER, and depending on the severity of her injuries, possibly transferred to a burn unit.
He finally came into the outskirts of Oak Creek. Morning rush-hour traffic was in full force, and the sun wasn't even up. Now more than ever, he wished he had lights and sirens so these drivers would get the fuck out of his way.
His thoughts raced over the past few weeks of them living together. Memories popped in and out of his brain like a staccato movie clip.
They’d made it work. Was it because they were continually taken in opposite directions? Both of their jobs rarely had them in the house at the same time. If they were home at the same time, one was sleeping while the other was awake.
But of course, there had been crossover, usually in the kitchen or on the stairs. On the first Saturday morning, almost a week after she’d moved in, they'd shared coffee and fresh muffins she's baked and sat on the front porch watching the day begin.
That kiss. The one on the day she’d moved in. Taylor couldn't forget it. Then their morning after the day they spent together. It had started off the shift in their relationship to one of intimacy and caring.
He slammed on the brakes when the light turned red in front of him.
"Shit!" he shouted, not caring if anyone heard.
He should've run the red. Taylor thrummed his thumbs on the steering wheel, impatiently waiting for the light to change. He stared at the green light for the crossing traffic, waiting for it to turn yellow so he was ready to go when his light changed.
"Hurry up."
Now.
He stepped on the gas, and the van lurched forward, tires squealing and the back end swinging a bit. In the corner of his eye, he saw pedestrians waiting at the corner jump in alarm. He was driving the Medical Examiner's fully marked van so he'd be waiting for complaints to pour in. He pulled his baseball hat down lower over his forehead. Weaving in and out of the cars, he made the final turn and roared up to the emergency entrance. He didn't worry about where he parked. He jumped out and ran to the door. It swished open in front of him, and he froze. Beyond those doors was where it had happened, and he hadn't been inside since. He was faced with a decision.
Most of the waiting room chairs were full. Inside were families and a variety of people on their own sitting in the emergency room. More lined up at triage, and he looked beyond the glass wall to where everything had happened.
Where he’d lost so many people. And where Drea was now. He couldn't budge, even knowing that another important person lay back there, he was rooted to the spot. He tried to move. He had to.
Taylor balled his fists and barged through the open doors, sucking a breath when they closed behind him, sealing him inside the hospital. Taking deep breaths and ignoring the welling panic that threatened to consume him, he went right to the triage desk. Of course, he was known by the staff having worked here for years prior to switching to pathology.
He saw Karen, the shift supervisor, and nodded his head at her. She looked surprised when she rounded the desk to let him in.
"Dr. Peel, what are you doing here?" She was there when it had all gone down as well. She was well aware what he'd been through and had been very supportive.
"Drea. She was brought in with burns and unconscious." Karen looked momentarily confused until he said, "The fire marshal, Drea." That was all he managed to get out. His chest tightened, and he drew in a shaky breath.
"Oh yes. But you just missed her. She was transferred by air ambulance to Mercy Memorial."
"Fuck! No one told me." Taylor could have smashed something. "How bad is she?
"Honestly, I just came on shift, and she was being taken to the pad, so I didn't have a chance to look at her chart."
"I need to go to her."
