Chapter 10

How was it a few days felt like months? Minutes turned into empty hours? Every time Rhonda closed her eyes and tried to rest, his face filled her mind as loneliness filled her heart. She would lie there and think of times they’d been together, even arguing, and wonder if there was going to be more time.

When she was isolated and recovering, he’d become her only link to the outside world. Countless hours spent with her, reading, playing cards, watching movies, or just talking. For her, he’d broken every rule of his job and kept her hidden and safe. For her, he’d put his life and job on hold. Her mind was filled with his smile and his quiet laugh.

She forgot all about the cold weather and the pain and remembered all of his cute Irish witty comments and his soft-spoken calmness. She could almost hear his voice at times. If she thought of him long enough, she could feel his lips still on hers, the way her heart had sped up when he kissed her... Sighing, she got up from the kitchen table and headed toward the stairs. At least she could focus on drawing now to take her mind off everything, or occupy the hours of nothingness.

She sat and looked down at the picture she’d tried first with the modified pencils. It was of Patrick. Each movement had been slow and precise. Every contour of his face she’d transferred to the paper; every shadow and line was there.

His eyes were glinting back at her with humor. She almost preferred that look, almost, but her insides responded instantly when his eyes were almost black with dangerous determination.

She missed both looks. Oh Pat, are you all right? Are you going to come back?

Rhonda sat there looking at the picture, not even surprised she’d been able to use her hand to make such a steady likeness of him. She hadn’t been thinking of anything but him, so it wasn’t any surprise really. Patrick…

Patrick squatted down behind a barrel, knowing the moment he’d been dreading had finally arrived. His breath hovered in front of his face.

The task team had jumped the gun and made their presence known. Why the hell didn’t they just let him handle it? He jammed the clip into his gun with frustration. He was going to separate the group, and then give the signal…

Idiots! Now he’d be lucky if anyone was alive when this was over.

“Paddy.”

He turned his head to see Jack a few yards away. “I’m good to go,” he confirmed.

“We’ve been set up.” The statement was from Dusty as he scurried closer to him.

Patrick turned and gave him a glare of annoyance. Leave it to Dusty to state the clearly obvious.

“How many?” Jack demanded quietly.

Walt shifted further back into the group. “Counted ten, could be more.”

“Fuck.” Dusty spat as he shifted his attention behind them.

Patrick looked down at the ground. How the hell are you getting yourself out of this mess? Listening, he could hear the team spreading out around them. He could try to send a warning to them, an unheard one. Of course, if the wrong S.W.A.T. member got the message, they’d panic or freak right out.

He was screwed. The people on his side were on the other side of the wall of barrels, and here he was smack dab in the middle of the ones they wanted to arrest, or most likely shoot. There were seven of the gang’s members surrounding him, he wasn’t sure about the two goons that appeared at the last minute this morning, but any one of the other five would shoot him or anyone else who threatened their escape.

Patrick looked up and saw Jack watching him. He shook his head knowing the other man was hoping he had some sort of plan.

Oh Pat, are you all right? Are you coming back?

He lowered his eyes to the ground quickly as Rhonda’s rasping words went through his mind. Rhonda? Had he somehow projected his situation to her? Opening his eyes, he shifted until he was further from the others and appeared, he hoped, that he was checking out their options.

He couldn’t have projected to her. For the first time in weeks she hadn’t been in the forefront of his thoughts. Had she sounded okay? Was something wrong?

Cut it out Paddy, he told himself, now is not the time to lose it.

When the first shot rang out, he turned quickly to see the glint in Walt’s eyes. As the return fire pounded into the barrels he crouched down lower, trying to stay clear.

“Might as well be at the Alamo,” he swore softly.

The restless men hiding within the barrels were not going to give up.

Patrick…

He looked quickly back at them as they positioned and fired. Glancing around the end of the barrel, he found himself between them and the task force on the other side. He swore again under his breath.

Rhonda, lass… I’m trying to get back to you. Take care of your lovely self for me.

He knew he shouldn’t have, but just in case he wanted her to know she’d been in his thoughts all these weeks.

Message sent, he flipped on his side and rolled quickly toward another tier of barrels several yards away, his team had no idea what they were in for.

Rhonda stood quickly when his strong voice entered her mind. He’d sounded so tired and unsure. That wasn’t the man she knew.

Trying to retain the link, she reached out with her mind as quickly as she could manage. Pat? She gasped as a burning pain gripped her chest.

Dropping to her knees she panted. “No! Pat!” She reached for him again.

It was gone. The path to him wasn’t there.

Ignoring the pain in her back, she struggled quickly to her feet and hurried to get the phone. Tears ran down her face as she tried with unhelpful fingers to punch in Cora’s number. Cora.

Dade pulled his van into the driveway. There wasn’t a bone in his body not aching. Didn’t most construction companies shut down for the winter months? Figures, he’d choose one that didn’t.

He watched the first few flakes fall to the ground. Funny how that first snowfall didn’t make him feel as elated as it had when he was a child. Sighing, he climbed out. Hot shower, hot food, hot sex…that’s what he needed.

He stepped through the door and inhaled, wondering what delicious aroma his gorgeous fiancé’s cooking would greet him. Before he could call out, a loud shattering crash came from the kitchen. “Cora?” He bellowed as his legs carried him there as fast as he could manage.

His heart jumped to his throat as he saw her doubled over almost on the floor, shards of glass and food scattered all around her. Moving quickly, his work boots crunching the glass as rushed to her. “Coralee? Honey?” He knelt so his face was level with hers.

“Rhonda.” She shook as she spoke. “Dade, get to Rhonda now.”

Dade stood quickly and flipped the dial for the burners off, he glanced to the oven to make sure it was off, then stooped down and picked her up into his arms. “Not without you.”

Rushing out, he paused long enough to grab her jacket then slammed out the door.

It was less than two minutes later, he stormed through Rhonda’s front door. “Rhonda?” He stopped long enough to look around the living room. Darting into the kitchen he found it empty. “Rhonda?” He called louder.

Charging up the stairs he almost ran past her room before he saw her. She was kneeling on the floor leaning over the bed, phone in her hand.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Rhonda?” He spoke softer this time.

She turned her head and focused on him. “Oh, Dade, it’s Patrick.”

He nodded and walked over quickly to her. “Cora’s in the van, let’s go.” He helped her gently to her feet. “Can you walk?”

She sobbed again. “I can’t feel him.”

He didn’t know what exactly she meant, but nodded anyways. “To the hospital? Doc can locate him if anything has happened.” She nodded again. “Where’s your jacket?”

“By the door.”

She whispered so quietly he had to strain to hear her. “I’ll get it.” He darted past her and down the stairs. With the jacket, he turned back to see she had only made it down two steps. Running back up the stairs he held the coat and helped her put it on. Stepping down one step he wrapped his arms around her hips as he’d seen Patrick do and lifted her slight weight up and took her down the stairs.

He barely had the van door closed when the two women hugged each other and cried loudly.

Climbing in, he started the van and grabbed his phone. Opening his contacts, he hit the first one he saw and started backing out the drive as it rang. “Chris, something happened to Patrick.” He paused, not even sure what he said back. “Rhonda feels it, we should get to the hospital. Meet us there.”

Steven smiled as he locked his office door. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been at the hospital at this point, didn’t care either, he was done and going home to Rachel for two days. He winked at the nurse waving to him as he passed the desk. Humming to himself, he pushed open the doors leading through the emergency.

He could hear the commotion and told himself firmly he wasn’t needed. There were doctors there to deal with it. It was his own fault, jumping in on emergencies all the time. He should start going out another exit. It wasn’t his field anymore, he’d started in emergency medicine and then moved on, but he still couldn’t stop from helping if it seemed chaotic as he walked through. Today wasn’t one of those days. Pausing, he stood to wait for the ambulance attendants to rush through the sliding doors.

He wasn’t surprised Kevin was one of them. He worked almost as much as Steven did. He was on the gurney, straddling the patient, his hands holding pressure over a wound on their chest. He was good at his job. A light dusting of snow covered him. It had snowed? Rachel would be thrilled and itching for more so they could play in it.

Kevin glanced up quickly at him and then back down to the man he was practically sitting on. Steven looked down at the blood-covered body Kevin was over and his heart jolted. Under the blood and dirt, was Patrick. Without further thought he was jogging alongside the gurney. Reaching around his neck he realized he’d taken his stethoscope off. Kevin lifted his hands and let him look under the dressing on Patrick’s chest. He stared at the torn and bleeding tissue, far too close to the heart. Glancing up he made eye contact with Kevin, who shook his head.

Like hell. They hadn’t gone through everything in these past few months to lose Patrick after it all. The emergency doctor on call came running up and didn’t even question why Steven was there. Grabbing the stethoscope from the doctor’s neck, Steven quickly placed it against Patrick’s chest. He focused on the erratic rhythm for a few brief moments. “Missed the heart,” he mumbled, then glanced up and spoke to the nearest nurse. “Get the portable ultrasound.” He stepped closer to Patrick’s head and leaned down. “You hang on, Pat. The women will never forgive you leaving us.”

As they pushed through the doors to the surgical wing, he stopped long enough to debate on scrubbing and helping or waiting. A nurse ran alongside him and held the door open for him to get ready. Pausing, he watched them wheel Patrick, with Kevin still on top of him into the surgery and turned to go into the scrub room.