Afraid To Lose Her

The officer frowned and glanced at Sherri’s side. “Are you sure about that?”

Sherri looked at her right side and gasped. A bullet had shredded the body armor, and a dark red stain seeped through her white blouse underneath. She put her hand over the area and found it wet. She looked over at Dez. “Did I get shot?”

Dez removed her bulletproof vest and whistled. “I’d say so, Ace.” He put his arm around her. “I think we need to find a paramedic.”

Sherri nodded, but it felt as if it wasn’t her head that moved. Just as it wasn’t her body that had been pierced by a bullet. She felt nothing. Shouldn’t she feel something? She opened her mouth to say something to Dez, but blackness enveloped her.

* * *

BEFORE SHERRI COULD hit the floor, Dez scooped her up in his arms as easily as if she was a rag doll. He pushed past the officer and walked out the door of the warehouse. Too much like Fallujah. An ambulance with lights flashing waited outside in the parking lot of the warehouse. “I’ve got an agent down here.”

A paramedic rushed to him with her medical bag. “How long has she been unconscious?”

“Not even a minute.” He kneeled so that he could lay Sherri on the pavement. This was all his fault. He’d jumped at the chance to be a part of the raid and had dragged her along with him. Not that she’d protested. He had a suspicion she would have volunteered them if he hadn’t first. But this was his fault. He muffled a curse word. “She didn’t know she was shot.”

The paramedic used scissors to cut the blouse up the side and exposed Sherri’s injury. Dez knew he should probably look away, but the angry red wound drew his gaze like a moth to flame. He winced. “Is it bad?”

The paramedic shifted Sherri’s body, examining it, and shook her head. “Looks like it went through but we’ll take her to the hospital to be sure. She’s losing a lot of blood, though.” She glanced at him. “Do you know what blood type she is, by chance?”

He shook his head. He knew enough about Sherri since they’d been partners for the last four years. He knew how she liked her coffee, what she’d wear to work and how she wrinkled her nose when she laughed, but he didn’t know that important detail. “Sorry.”

“They’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.” The paramedic glanced behind her at her partner. “Mark, get the stretcher. We’re taking her in.”

Dez grasped Sherri’s hand, which lay slack in his. “I’m going with you.”

The paramedic glanced at him then gave a short nod. “You sure they don’t need you here anymore?”

“They’ll know where to find me. She needs me more.” Because there was no way he was going to leave Sherri’s side now. He let go of her hand as the paramedics strapped Sherri onto the board then carried her to the ambulance. He ran behind them and jumped into the back, crouched next to Sherri as the driver slammed the doors shut, and then they were off in a flurry of lights and sirens.

Dez pushed Sherri’s long hair out of her face. “She has to be okay.”

“Is there anyone you can call? Her family?”

He nodded and removed his cell phone from the interior pocket of his jacket. He had her mom’s number programmed in case of emergency, and there was no bigger emergency than this. He scanned through the names on his contact list then pressed Perla’s name.

A hand reached out and touched his arm. He looked up to find Sherri watching him and shaking her head. “Don’t call her.”

“You’re hurt. She needs to know.”

“I don’t want her to worry.” She shifted on the board and winced. “I’ll call her later.”

“Sorry, Ace, but this is out of your hands.” He pressed the name and waited while the phone rang despite Sherri’s protests. When her mom answered the other end, he gave her brief details about what had happened. “They’re taking us to...”

He glanced at the paramedic who was putting an IV into Sherri’s vein. “Detroit General.” He repeated the information to Sherri’s mom.

“How is she?” Perla asked.

Dez looked over at Sherri, who glared at him. If she didn’t have one arm being poked with a needle, he was sure she’d be giving him the finger. “I think she’s going to be just fine.”

“Tell her I love her, and we’ll be right there.”

Dez hung up and gave Sherri the message. She groaned. “Just what I don’t need. The waiting room filled with my family.” She winced as the paramedic packed more gauze around the bleeding wound. “My mom’s going to kill me. I promised her the job was a safe one.”

“It should have been. Someone tipped them off.” He put a hand on Sherri’s foot. “Just don’t die on me. I don’t want to have to get used to a new partner.”

“Ha-ha.” But she didn’t look like she was amused. Instead, her eyes were clouded with pain that also left tight lines around her mouth.

“They’ll take care of you, and you’ll be back at work in no time.” He said it mostly because he hoped it was true. He couldn’t imagine having to work without her. Couldn’t imagine living without seeing her most days. He pressed the center of his chest where there seemed to be a hot object being pushed into his skin.

The ambulance pulled into the hospital parking lot, and then the back doors were opened and people were running out to meet them. Dez stepped back as they removed Sherri from the ambulance and transferred her onto a wheeled gurney. He followed the short ER doctor as she yelled out orders to her team. “Take her to Trauma Two. And I want O neg pumped into her ASAP.” She glanced up at Dez. “Anything I need to know about my patient?”

“She’s a warrior. Don’t let her die.”

The doc gave a curt nod then ran into the ER. Dez watched her go and then dropped his head. He could stop being strong for a moment.

* * *

SHERRI WATCHED AS a team of nurses and interns buzzed around her, asking questions, removing bloody gauze, hooking her up to an IV bag, probing the wound. That last one made her sit up and shout. “Are you trying to kill me?”

The ER doctor entered the room and moved people away so that she could see the wound. Sherri looked down at the blood and swallowed back the acidic taste in her mouth. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, willing herself not to pass out despite the ringing in her ears. “Is it bad?”

“I’ve seen worse.” The doctor irrigated the wound with saline from a syringe then felt around the area with her fingertips. “Good news is that the bullet passed through, so I think you just need a few dozen stitches. My concern is the loss of blood.” She probed an area above the wound and frowned. Spread her fingers out farther. “How long have you noticed this lump here, Ms. Lopez?”

Sherri looked down where the doctor had her fingers and shook her head. “I never noticed.”

“Probably nothing.” She turned to a nurse, giving out orders. “I’m going to suture the wound. And go check on where that blood is.”

Sherri bit her lip as the doctor skillfully sewed the wound together on the front. She couldn’t watch and kept her gaze on the blinds that covered the windows that looked out into the ER. “Dr. Sprader, am I going to be able to go back to work?”

The doctor didn’t look up at her, but continued to place tiny stitches to bind her skin over the hole. “My guess is that a small thing like a bullet hole won’t keep you down.” She looked up at Sherri. “At least not for long. Now let’s suture where the bullet came out.”

Sherri turned on her side so the doctor could find the wound on her back. She winced as she felt fingertips trace the area. “My partner...”

“He’s in the waiting room, pacing. Don’t worry. I’ll give him an update once I’m finished here.” Dr. Sprader fell silent for a moment, the noise of the ER outside the room the only sounds. She sighed as she sutured the wound. “So how did you get a bullet in you?”

“Ambush during a drug raid.” Sherri sucked in air as the wound burned.

“I’ll be sure to get you some painkillers as well as antibiotics for you to take home.” The doctor placed a large square of white gauze over the wound and taped it into place. “I’m also going to ask that you take it easy for a few days so that you don’t rip out my handiwork too soon.”

Dr. Sprader helped Sherri shift again onto her back and taped gauze over the front wound. She frowned again. “Do you mind if I check something out? I don’t think it’s related to your injury, but it concerns me.”

Sherri nodded and watched as the doctor probed the area above the gauze on the underside of her breast. Dr. Sprader obviously didn’t like what she found because she told the nurse beside her to call the radiology department to get them in for a consult. Sherri frowned. “Radiology?”

“There’s a lump on the underside of your breast that I don’t like.” Dr. Sprader guided Sherri’s fingers to the spot about the size of a half pea but hard rather than mushy. “You haven’t noticed that?”

Sherri shook her head. “What do you think it is?”

“More than eighty percent of lumps are nothing, but I don’t want to play around.” She removed her bright pink skullcap to reveal short, spiky, dark blond hair no longer than an inch. “I’ve just finished my own fight with breast cancer, so I know how important it is to get answers early.”