“Stay with me, sunshine,” I growled, pumping at the same beat. I listened for her heartbeats but couldn’t hear them over the sirens coming from the ambulance that had pulled up. I searched for the pulse in her neck, and when I didn’t feel it, I leaned down and breathed into her, forcing air into her starved lungs.
Snow crunched under boots that grew closer. I pulled away and started compressions again. My breaths shook, and someone’s hands touched my shoulder. I ignored them, refusing to stop.
“We’ll take it from here,” a different woman said.
“I’ll do it myself,” I ground out while still giving Emma CPR.
“We can’t stand by, sir. We can help her,” she said, trying to remain calm, but I heard the bite in her voice.
Another paramedic ran toward us with a bag full of medical supplies slung over his shoulder.
“How long have you been giving her CPR?” the female paramedic asked.
“Three minutes,” I answered before I leaned down and pushed more air into Emma.
“Get the AED,” she ordered her partner.
While I did CPR, they got the equipment out and cut through Emma’s shirt and bra. I clenched my jaw. A sudden possessiveness surged through me because another man was seeing her breasts. He showed no signs of attraction, however, as he and his partner placed the stickers on her side, beneath her ribs, and the other on her chest. I swallowed hard as I looked at all the wounds on her body. Glass embedded in her skin. Some of it was peeled back, like someone had taken a sharp filet knife and cut off a layer.
“Clear,” the woman said.
I stopped CPR and leaned back on my heels, panting as I watched the equipment check her heartbeat. An robotic female voice came from it. “Stand by. Preparing to shock. Everyone clear. Do not touch the patient. Delivering shock.”
It beeped, and I watched as Emma’s muscles contracted.
“Shock delivered. Provide chest compressions,” the female voice said from the equipment.
The paramedics took over, not allowing me to save my mate. I watched helplessly as one did CPR while the other brought the gurney to her. They maneuvered her onto it while the other continued chest compressions. I followed behind, getting into the back of the ambulance, not wanting to leave Emma’s side.
The ride to the hospital was torture. After the second time using the AED, they got a heartbeat, and I released a shaky breath. It took a little longer to get to the hospital, but when we arrived, it was a flurry of everyone getting Emma into the back of the ER. A nurse stopped me from following. Her hand pushed against my chest, and she shook her head.
“You can’t go back there. You need to wait, sir,” she said, her voice thick with a Southern accent.
I fisted my hands at my sides and clenched my teeth. “You’ll update me.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a fucking demand.
“Of course. Are you her husband?”
“Yes,” I snapped. We weren’t married, but what we had went far deeper than some piece of paper and rings to show the world we were together.
“Then we’ll update you with everything. Please, just take a seat in the waiting room.” She eyed me and reared her head back as she finally noticed that I was covered in blood and cuts. “You’ll need to get seen, too.”
“No.” I didn’t need their help. Give it an hour, and I’d be healed.
“Sir, you’re blee—”
“I don’t need your fucking help,” I snapped. “Just save her.”
The nurse gave me a dirty look before she turned and left through double doors that locked behind her. I ran my hand through my dirty hair and stared at the doors, debating if I should go back there to ensure they saved my mate’s life.
I paced the waiting area, replaying what happened in my mind until it nearly drove me up a wall. I ground my teeth as Emma’s screams echoed in my head.
She tried to warn me and I didn’t listen. I failed her and now she was fighting for her life.
I lost track of time as I paced like a caged animal. Sirens blared from outside and the nurses’ shouts drowned out the memory of my mate’s pained shrieks.
“Patient is a male with blunt trauma from a car collision, unknown aller—”
