While Liv murmured reassurance to the fallen man, Addy pulled the cop aside. “This guy is in danger of bleeding out while we wait for transport. We need to get him to the hospitalnow.”
Chapter Sixteen
Clutchinghispiratehatover his pounding heart, Kieran watched the firefighters lift Addy’s patient into their truck. Where the hell was the ambulance?
After subduing old Dave Budny, who melted into a puddle of tears once he realized his flashback freak-out had hurt two kids far more than their dumbassery deserved, Kieran had hovered as close as he dared to watch Addy work.
Simply awe-inspiring, the way she remained calm and commanding amid the chaos of panicked drunks. If she hadn’t been there, that poor, stupid kid would’ve bled to death in the middle of Main Street.
Kieran had seen that boy and his buddies on the beach, whooping it up around their beer cooler and yelling ugliness at passing women. Probably never occurred to him that an old man with hair-trigger self-control would be his undoing.
While Halloween partygoers drifted back into the bar, Officer Jefferson handcuffed old Dave and lowered him into the police cruiser. Addy’s friend approached Kieran, wiping her hands on her torn dress. “Well, that was a shitshow,” she muttered. “Think anyone will step up for that poor man?”
“I’ll swing by the VFW. I’m sure his vet buddies will look in on him.”
“Does Trappers Cove have a support group for people like him?”
“Yeah. It’s called happy hour at the VFW.”
The woman scowled.
“Sorry, ma’am. I’m not making light of the problem. I’m sure you know how hard it can be to find mental health help these days, especially in a small town.”
“I do indeed. Us military folks have it better than most civilians in that respect, and even on base, wait times for counseling can be way too long.” She patted his arm. “By the way, Addy mentioned your oil rig fire. I hope you don’t mind.”
He shook his head. “I’m glad she has someone she can talk to about the important things.”
“Do you have someone like that?” Her gaze held quiet compassion.
While he could call almost everyone in Trappers Cove a friendly acquaintance, outside of the therapy group he’d abandoned, Addy was the only person he felt comfortable opening up to. Hell, most of his neighbors didn’t even know his proper name, a fact that hadn’t bothered him until tonight.
He’d better remedy that self-imposed distance quick because if the perfect storm of triggers hit him like it had old Dave, who’s to say he wouldn’t spiral into madness, hurting himself or others?
Addy’s friend gently gripped his arm. “Tell you what. Let me ride along to the VFW and make sure everyone’s okay. Then we can talk about trauma therapy resources on our way to the hospital.”
“All right, let’s go.”
“Like attracts like,” his mother would say in her lucid moments, and his Addy—unselfish, duty-driven, compassionate—had drawn to her a friend with the same admirable qualities. Doctor Liv had a better chance than most at getting through to the walled-off vets who gathered in that dingy bar.
Over the past year or so, Kieran had inched toward acknowledging that he needed help, but tonight’s events delivered a hard shove right to the gut. For Addy’s sake, he’d do his damnedest to conquer his demons—before they destroyed his best chance at happiness.
Holding a surgical mask to her face, the night-duty medical assistant poked her head through the OR door. “MedEvac chopper’s ten minutes out. And Chief Hawthorne would like to talk to Doctor Connor as soon as she’s available.”
“Thanks, Kit.” PA Jorge Rosado handed Addy a pair of forceps.
“Our patient will be ready.” Buzzing with satisfaction and relief, Addy finished the surgical repair that stabilized the young man for transport to the trauma center in Portland.
“Our Caden got lucky tonight,” the nurse anesthetist remarked. “If you hadn’t been on site, he wouldn’t have made it.”
“Not just me.” Addy tied off the last suture. “All of you too.”
The NA, who serviced three regional hospitals on the Washington coast, had been nearby chaperoning her son’s high school Halloween dance, and the physician’s assistant on duty had served in a modular field hospital in Iraq, so he was well qualified to double as a surgical nurse. Without their help, the young man on the table would definitely have bled out.
Later, in the scrub room, PA Rosado peeled off his bloody gloves. “Thank God I won’t have to tell Caden’s parents he died—and how.”
Addy squeezed his shoulder. “The hardest part of the job, for sure. I’m glad you were here to help.”
Her assistant chuckled. “Gotta say, even the worst cases here are easier on my soul than what we encountered in Fallujah.”
