Let It Be Me (Men of the Misfit Inn #1) - Kait Nolan Page 0,2
The deep, male voice was so unexpected, she pulled the phone away from her ear to check the display again.
“Yes?” Delayed concern began to set in, sharpening her tone. “Who is this? Where is Fiona?”
“I’m afraid there’s been an accident.”
An instant.
That was all it took for lives to be changed. Lives to be lost.
Caleb Romero knew that better than many. Had lived through that knife’s edge when others had not. So he knew, before he even fully registered the truck barreling through the red light, before he heard the crash and shriek of metal, that someone else’s life was over.
He slammed on his brakes, skidding a little on the rain-slicked pavement as he yanked his truck to the shoulder of the road. His mind was already assessing the scene as he leapt out, raced over. Other vehicles were stopping. Someone else would dial 911. He needed to check for survivors, start stabilization if he could.
The truck was flipped on its side, front end accordioned where it had struck the little sedan. The car… Jesus God. It was upside down, the driver’s side entirely caved in. He didn’t need to see past the blood on the shattered window to know the driver was likely a lost cause.
“Mom?”
The tremulous voice had his blood running cold.
His mind tried to throw him back to high school. Back to his own trauma. Caleb blanked it out, focusing instead on the here and now and the life still to be saved. He raced around to the passenger side, hunkering low to see through what remained of the window.
The girl hung upside down from the seatbelt, her blonde hair brushing the collapsed roof of the car. She reached out toward the woman dangling beside her in the driver’s seat.
“Mom!”
“Hey. Hey there. I’m here to help.”
Tears clogged her voice. “Help my mom.”
It was more than evident, now that he could see, that her mother was beyond help. But now wasn’t the time to bring that point home to the kid.
“More help is on the way.” The distant wail of a siren underscored the point. “I need you to focus on me just now. Can you move? Are you hurt?”
The girl turned her head to look at him. Stiffly but with what appeared to be more or less full range of motion. “I don’t…I…”
“Take it slow. Can you wiggle your fingers and toes?”
“Y…yes.”
Good sign. “Are you having any severe pain anywhere?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
She was definitely in shock, so no guarantees, but she didn’t show any obvious signs of spinal injury. “Okay. We’re gonna get you out of there.”
Stripping off his jacket, Caleb used it to break out the last of the window, clearing a space. He didn’t even ask if she could unbuckle the belt, just pulled out his pocket knife and carefully sliced through it, managing to catch her before she crashed to the ceiling of the car.
“I’ve gotcha.” Carefully, he eased her out, not taking a full breath until her legs cleared the wreckage. His mind ran through triage. No signs of massive bleeding or breaks. But there could still be internal bleeding.
“She’s dead, isn’t she?”
The soft question stopped Caleb’s assessment. He met the girl’s shattered eyes, read the horror of knowledge, and swallowed as he felt the long ago echoes of his own. “I’m so sorry.”
As sirens shrieked and emergency personnel began to swarm the scene, the girl slumped against him and wept.
She was the only survivor.
Because he knew what it was to be alone and terrified, Caleb had come with her to the hospital, done what needed doing. As a firefighter, he was a first responder and the emergency staff at this hospital knew him, so nobody kicked up a fuss.
By now, the tears had stopped, replaced by the glassy-eyed anesthesia of shock. After what she’d been through, that was a blessing, one that would end far too soon.
As Dr. Chahal performed the exam, the girl—Fiona—offered monosyllabic answers. Caleb wasn’t sure she really heard anything the kind-eyed doctor said. He could feel the tremors wracking her slim frame through the hand gripping his like a vise. He remembered all too clearly how fear and grief pooled just below the surface, waiting to rise and strike. How, when the bubble burst, they’d all but torn him apart when he’d been barely older than she was.
Fiona Gaffney would have a hard, hard road. She’d need solid support. Caleb wondered if the godmother she’d had him call would be that for her.