Radclyffe - Passion's Bright Fury Read online

  "How many are we getting?" Sax inquired further as she moved to the next patient in line, pulling on gloves as she went.

  "I don't know," Deb said distractedly. "The EMTs said there were at least a dozen injured. This guy's got a hole in his belly and needs to go to the OR right now."

  "Aaron," Sax called as she lifted the blood-soaked gauze bandage on the second youth's chest, "call in Tyler and the rest of the backup team. We're going to be busy down here for a while." Studying the two-inch laceration between the second and third ribs, she asked the patient, "What's your name?"

  "Fuck you," the teenager grunted, twisting to look at the boy on the bed beside him. "You better hope you die, motherfucker, because if you don't I'm going to kill you."

  "You've got a punctured lung. You're going to need surgery," Sax informed him impassively.

  "I want to go...to…another hospital. I don't... want to be anywhere near where these...pricks are."

  As he spoke, bright red blood frothed from between his lips, and Sax had to force him back to a lying position. Great, rival gang members still looking for someone to fight. Perfect. "Save it for some other day. You've got a stab wound in your chest. At the moment you're not going to be fighting with anyone."

  "Just…keep them…away from me," he wheezed weakly just before his eyes rolled upward and he lost consciousness.

  For the next few minutes, Sax was busy inserting a chest tube and starting multiple large intravenous lines so that the nurses could hang blood and intravenous fluids. Deb was silently and efficiently doing the same thing as three more critically injured boys were delivered in rapid succession. Several nurses and two more surgical residents were recruited from the intensive care unit to assist in the initial stabilizations.

  Jude and Melissa stayed out of the way of arriving stretchers and bustling medical personnel while managing to find a good vantage point from which to film the action. After more than two hundred hours of on-call experience, they had worked out a system that was nearly as seamless as the choreographed resuscitations occurring around them. By now she knew from the footage they'd been getting that she and Mel were working on the same wavelength. That was what happened when a director and photographer were of one mind. She didn't worry about Mel missing something important, which was a good thing, because she often found herself watching Sax-just to see her work. Trying to observe both Deb and Sax now, she was so caught up in the excitement that for a second she didn't register the sound of a scuffle just outside in the hallway. It was the sound of Aaron's voice, raised in anger and tinged with fear, that finally made her look around.

  "Hey!" Aaron exclaimed. "You can't come in..."

  A sharp crack like snapping wood and the startled sound of Aaron's stunned cry caught her full attention. She spun in tandem with Mel toward the entrance of the trauma admitting area. Three young men shouldered their way inside, all of them blood spattered and wild looking. The teenager in the lead had a pistol in his hand, swinging it erratically back and forth as he stared at the people in the room. Aaron was lying on the floor just a few feet away, his eyes closed and a spreading patch of maroon on his scrub shirt.

  "You killed my brother, you fuck," the boy screamed, focusing on the wounded, semicomatose boy that Deb Stein was struggling to save. He raised his gun in a trembling hand, and to Jude's amazement, Deb leaned over her patient in an attempt to shield him.

  "No!" Jude shouted and the gunman hesitated, jerking involuntarily in her direction. She didn't have time to register the fear because the next thing she knew, she was flying through the air. Her shoulder struck a counter and her head bounced resoundingly off the floor as she landed. Dimly, she heard several more loud popping sounds, and then there was silence.

  *****

  "Jude, Jude!"

  Jude opened her eyes and looked up into Mel's frantic ones. "Stop shaking me, goddamn it. I'm awake."

  "Let me examine her, please, Mel," Sax said firmly, kneeling down beside the prone woman. Gently, she placed her hand on Jude's shoulder, preventing her from rising. "Jude, just lie still for a minute."

  For the second time in her life after awakening confused and disoriented, Jude stared up into Sax's comforting deep blue gaze--but this time there was something in addition to reassurance and confidence in Sax's eyes. This time there was fear. "I'm fine," she said quickly.

  "Let me be the judge of that," Sax said softly as she quickly flicked a pen light into each eye, watching the brisk, even, pupillary constriction and feeling the tightness in her own chest lessen slightly. No intracranial injury. "Do you know where you are?" She was having trouble keeping her voice steady. Jesus, that's never happened to me before .

  "I know exactly where I am. I don't think I was actually unconscious. I just had the wind knocked out of me. What the hell happened?"

  "Just a minute," Sax murmured, getting her voice under control as she pressed her stethoscope to Jude's chest. Once again she was relieved to hear the sure, steady rhythm. Satisfied that there wasn't any major organ dysfunction, she pressed her fingers slightly to the carotid artery in Jude's neck, finally drawing her first full breath since she had seen the gun pointed in Jude's direction. The pulse tripped rapidly under her fingers, but it was full and strong. Looking directly into those questioning green eyes, she murmured regretfully, "I have to go. Deb is on her way to the operating room with Aaron. He's been shot. I'm going to let one of the residents finish examining you, just to be sure, but I think everything is fine."

  Jude grasped Sax's wrist. "There's blood on your neck. Are you all right?"

  Yes," Sax said. Now that I know that you are.

  "Go. I'll see you later."

  *****

  Personal project log - Castle

  August 4 - 9:45 AM

  DRM 20,172 - 22,350

  Sax and Deb are still in the operating room working on Aaron. One of the surgery residents came out about an hour ago to give us an update. Apparently it was a small caliber bullet from a Saturday night special, which is why Aaron is still alive. It still did a lot of local damage in his abdomen and he lost a lot of blood. They've been working now for five hours. I keep thinking how tired they must be and wondering if they even notice. I keep seeing Deb reflexively shielding her patient, someone she doesn't even know, someone who may have been responsible for killing someone else just moments before... I'm not sure I could have done that. I haven't wanted to screen the videotape because I didn't want to see it again so soon. The waiting is getting to me now... I can't stand waiting and not knowing. At least if I'm working, I won't have to think about what's happening in there.

  "Let's go back to the on-call room and run the tape."

  "Sure," Melissa agreed flatly. Anything not to have to watch the slow crawl of the minute hand on the large plain-faced clock visible in the operating room control center across the hall.

  A few moments later they were ensconced in their familiar location, settling into the routine, replaying Mel's footage of the previous night. Judy had her recorder out and was dictating notations as the counter on the tape measured out the moments to the critical scene. Her heart rate climbed as they approached the section where the gang members burst into the admitting area. She wasn't sure how much Mel had been able to get before everything erupted into chaos, but she steeled herself for what she knew was coming. She didn't have much memory for those few moments because everything had happened so quickly. And for a good part of the time, she had apparently been lying on the floor.

  "Here we go," Melissa murmured, her voice tense with emotion.

  Jude watched as the nightmare rolled. The three young men suddenly appeared almost simultaneously with the sound of the gunshot, and Aaron stumbled back as if he had been kicked. Miraculously, Mel had reacted immediately to the sounds of shouting in the hallway and had caught the entire sequence perfectly. There was a dizzying blur of movement as the camera apparently swung around to follow along the shooter's sightline and Deb came into view. Jude watched that
amazing moment again as the young surgeon threw herself between the weapon and her patient.

  "God, Mel, you are so good," Jude said aloud reverently. "You have just captured the one scene that's going to mean more for this project than anything else."

  "Maybe," Melissa said quietly, wondering if she had gotten the rest of it.

  "Oh, believe me, I'm right, Jude said emphatically. "This is going..."

  Her voice trailed off as the camera moved again, and this time Melissa had pulled the camera back enough to get almost the entire room in her lens. The shooter swung his arm and Jude saw him point the gun at her chest, and then she saw Saxon Sinclair step directly into the line of fire, grab her by the shoulders, and push her violently out of the way. It happened so fast that she hadn't even been aware of it then. Stunned, she watched herself thrown out of the bullet's path as her body caromed off the back counter. Almost simultaneously, four armed security guards entered behind the gang members and rapidly subdued them.

  Wordlessly, she pushed rewind, but this time she watched Sax's face. For the briefest instant, Sax's stark features had been a study of ferocity and fury.

  "I heard gunfire. I remember gunfire," Jude stated numbly. "Did someone shoot?"

  "That kid did. About a millisecond after Sinclair knocked you ass over teakettle."

  Jude swung her seat away from the tape and stared at her friend. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

  "I wasn't sure we had it on tape, and..." Melissa shrugged. I was scared to death that you'd been shot, and I didn't even want to think about it.

  "How did he miss her?" Jude managed, her throat tight. She wasn't even thinking about the danger to herself. The potential danger was meaningless to her now, because she was fine, and, besides, she had no memory of it. But she had a visceral image of Saxon Sinclair saving her life at certain peril of her own. What if he had shot her instead? The thought was terrifying.

  Melissa shrugged. "Just lucky. He fired, but I think the bullet went high. Then the hospital police arrived and right behind them the city cops, and within minutes it was over. All I could think about then was you."

  "Hey," Jude said softly, aware of the tremor in Mel's voice. She rested her hand gently on the photographer's forearm and squeezed lightly. "Thanks. You're wonderful, Mel."

  Melissa nodded wordlessly. She'd seen the way Jude and Sinclair had looked at one another as they both frantically tried to determine if the other was all right. She'd never seen Jude look at anyone that way. "Yeah, that's me. Wonderful."

  *****

  August 4 - 5:45 p.m.

  Jude turned over on the narrow bed and sat up. A soft knock came again at the door. "Just a minute," she called, searching at the foot of the bed for her T-shirt. She pulled it on and tugged her jeans closed as she walked towards the door. Sax stood outside in the hall in sweat-stained scrubs, looking rumpled and weary.

  "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," Sax said quietly. "I wanted to, but I needed to stay with Aaron..."

  Jude was so relieved to see her that she reached out impulsively and grasped the surgeon's hand, pulling her into the room. She closed the door behind them and said, "Sit down. You must be exhausted."

  To Jude's surprise, Sax complied, sinking down on Mel's unoccupied bed and leaning back against the wall. Jude asked, "How is he?"

  "He's stable," Sax said dully, struggling with fatigue and the aftermath of controlling her emotions for hours. The entire time she had worked to repair the multiple holes blasted through fragile tissues, she had fought not to think about who lay on the table before her. She could not associate the torn and bleeding organs with the man she considered a friend and colleague. She had needed to separate her feelings for Aaron while she battled with death, but it had cost her. She was tired. "If any of a dozen things don't go wrong over the next few days, he should be fine."

  "Thank God," Jude said was relief. She noticed a reddened area on Sax's neck and leaned over her, turning her face toward the small bedside lamp. "You've got a cut here."

  Sax lifted her fingers and laid them gently on Jude's. "It's nothing. One of the instrument trays fell over when you and I ended in a heap on the floor."

  "Thank you for that," Jude said softly, her hand still lightly cupping Sax's jaw. She drew back when she sensed Sax stiffen at her touch.

  Sax pushed herself to her feet and started toward the door, knowing that she should go, because she'd been up for over thirty-six hours, her emotions were stretched to breaking, and still the light touch of Jude's fingers drove her crazy. She couldn't stay here, alone with her like this, but god, she didn't want to say goodbye-not yet. Maybe it was just because she was too damned tired to think clearly, but she turned at the last moment and regarded Jude steadily. "Do you know who Madelaine Lane is?"

  "Of course," Jude replied, perplexed. "She was a film icon before she stopped making movies and pretty much disappeared from public view. Why?"

  "She wants to meet you."

  "What?" Jude exclaimed, thoroughly confused. One of them apparently did have a concussion, and she didn't think it was her. "How do you know?"

  "She told me."

  "I'm not following. When?"

  "Tonight. Come on." Sax held out her hand.

  Jude stared at her, and then she did the only reasonable thing.

  She took it.

  chapter nineteen

  "Just give me a minute to change," Sax said as she unlocked the door to her on-call room and motioned Jude to follow.

  "Look," Jude said, standing awkwardly just inside the threshold, determinedly looking elsewhere as Sax began shedding her scrub shirt and pants. "I should probably just go home. I didn't even mean to fall asleep this afternoon, and the few hours I had didn't help much. I still feel like I've been dragged through a keyhole. Plus..." she grinned sheepishly, indicating her own rumpled appearance, "I don't have a change of clothes."

  Sax rummaged in a drawer built in under her bed and tossed a T-shirt in Jude's direction. Pulling on her own tight black T, she said, "Now you do. I can't help you with the jeans though, because I don't have a spare pair. You can shower when we get to the house and do laundry if you need to."

  "We're really going to do this, aren't we?" Jude asked, feeling as if she had just left her familiar rational life behind and was about to step through the looking glass. Probably it was fatigue, or maybe it was the result of the emotional assault that had started with the gunmen in the trauma admitting area and had culminated with the agonizing wait to find out if Aaron were going to survive. Whatever it was, she didn't feel like herself and, yet, in a way, she had never felt more alive, nearly exhilarated. Seeing yourself almost shot in slow motion a few times did that to you apparently. She was too shell-shocked to decide exactly what that meant, but watching the muscles flex in Sax's arms, she didn't care.

  "Well, I'm going because right now I need to ride off some of the last twenty-four hours," Sax said, tucking in her shirt and pulling on her boots. Pointedly, she added, "I'd like you to come."

  "All right," Jude agreed. She supposed she should ask herself why, but she didn't. It didn't really matter. She wanted to go. For some reason it wasn't important that it didn't make sense. Nothing much had made sense since the moment a bunch of teenagers with lethal weapons had threatened the lives of innocent people who were merely trying to do their jobs. Come to think of it, not much of anything made sense if you really stopped to think about it. One morning five years ago, she'd almost died riding the subway to work. Almost every day in the trauma bay she saw individuals whose lives were altered forever by bad luck or whimsy or the ill winds of fate. Probably after a good night's sleep, or maybe half a dozen, she'd feel like her sensible, balanced, grounded self again. But right now, the idea of riding on the back of Saxon Sinclair's motorcycle seemed like the most reasonable thing she could think of.

  "I'll be ready in a second," she said, turning away and stripping off her T-shirt. When she pulled on the borrowed one, she had a quick thought of how i
ntimate it was to wear someone else's clothes. That musing was a bad idea, because instantly her skin began to tingle and she knew what was coming next. Maybe if she didn't think about anything, her body would behave. Thankfully, Sinclair opened the door and stepped out into the hall. Keeping up with her took Jude's mind off the steady pulse of arousal that had started with the first touch of soft cotton over her breasts. It didn't help a bit that she wasn't wearing a bra.

  "Have you ever been on one of these before?" Sax asked, leading Jude through the small doctors' parking lot to the far corner where she had left her bike. She unlocked the helmets from the back and handed one to Jude.

  "Not one this big," Jude replied. "Only dirt bikes that we used to fool around on when we were kids at the shore."

  "All you have to do is hold on to me and let the rhythm carry you." As she spoke, Sax swung one leg over the leather seat and motioned for Jude to do the same. The seat was gently curved so that Jude would easily be able to sit behind her and reach around her waist. Sax grew very still as Jude settled against her hips and brought both hands around to gently clasp her stomach. With her arm halted in mid-motion, hand outstretched with the keys dangling from clenched fingers, Sax was suddenly, acutely, almost painfully aware of the firmly muscled thighs pressed against the outside of hers and the soft swell of breasts nestled provocatively against her back. She had to swallow before speaking, because her throat was tight. "Ready?"

  "Yes, I'm fine," Jude said, her chin nearly resting on Sax's shoulder. She hoped the surgeon couldn't feel her heart thudding against the inside of her rib cage, but she couldn't imagine that the two thin layers of cotton that separated their skin was enough of a barrier to hide it.

  *****

  They were well out of the city and steadily heading north when the harbingers of a summer thunderstorm amassed out of nowhere. Dusk was at least an hour away, but the heavy clouds that gathered overhead obscured the setting sun, plunging them into premature darkness. Even at the speed they were going, the air practically crackled with static electricity that raised the hair on Jude's arms.