Page 16

CHAPTER 16

HEL

H el was six hours into her shift running the floor of the emergency department when she heard a commotion in the ambulance bay.

“Great, another patient who took too much ice. Can I grab some midazolam out of the cupboard?” Hel asked the nurse in charge, who was standing with her. “I’ll go and give the ambos a hand.”

The nurse grumbled, “Some days, I’m not sure why I do this job.”

“Me either. Me either,” Hel agreed. It had been an exhausting day, she had been seeing her own patients as well as supervising the juniors on the floor.

She grabbed the sedative drug, tucking it into the top pocket of her bottle green scrubs and strolled into the ambulance bay.

“I want to go home!” A male voice roared. “I am not getting out. I do not want to go to hospital.”

Both of the paramedics stood behind the ambulance, one of the doors open. Clearly discussing the problem patient they had in the back.

“What have we got?” Hel wandered over, grimacing at them.

“Hi Hel,” Barney, one of the paramedics, greeted her. “We’ve got a big boy in the back. He was picked up off the side of the road. He’s got a broken leg already, and he had a witnessed trip and fall. We tried to collar him, but he’s ripped it off. I can’t get near him now.”

Hel had a sinking feeling and listened harder to the voice that was now not shouting any more but rather singing loudly and out of tune.

She peered around the door and saw Frost. He was swigging out of a whisky bottle and singing ‘Let it be’ at the top of his lungs.

“I’ve got this.” Hel stepped forward and was about to hop into the ambulance when Barney caught her arm.

“I wouldn’t. He’s at least six-three and built like a brick wall,” he warned her.

“Yeah. I know,” she sighed deeply. “He’s one of the hockey players on the team I’m the medic for.”

“Oh, right. Do you think he’ll listen to you?” Barney removed his hand from her arm.

“He’d better,” Hel muttered as she clambered aboard.

Frost finished the chorus and started again with the first verse, which appeared to be the only part of the song he knew.

Hel stood silently watching him. He was an absolute mess. His hair was spiked up and greasy. His stubble had gone beyond designer and now looked messy. His white singlet had a few questionable food stains.

She had to stop herself from examining his abundant muscles and the now visible tattoos. Her mind drifted back to the stadium, where he wanted to give her a tour of his ink. She debated taking a self-guided tour while he was singing but managed to keep it professional and looked back at his face.

Frost’s eyes were scrunched shut as he started on another rendition of the chorus of ‘Let It Be’, and he was about to bring the whisky bottle that was clutched in his hand to his lips, when Hel figured it was time to step in before he got even more drunk than he already was.

“Jake Winston Forster,” she said loudly. And yes, she had Googled him and now knew his middle name.

Frost froze with the bottle almost to his lips, and his eyes snapped open.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Fire burned in the depth of her hazel eyes. She was not impressed with him.

“Singing,” he offered hesitantly and went to take a swig of whisky.

“Put the bottle down right now,” Hel demanded.

His hand instantly dropped back down, and fear tinged his gaze. “Sorry.”

“Hand it over.” She held her hand out to him and watched him debate for a moment before he held the bottle out to her. Snatching it out of his hand, her fingers brushed his, and an electric shock tingled up her arm.

Internally, she rolled her eyes at her own stupidity while keeping her face a mask.

“How much have you had to drink.” Hel examined the bottle in her hand. It was half empty.

“A bit.” His green eyes were hazy and bloodshot. He had drunk far more than ‘a bit’.

“Is this your first bottle?” she questioned.

“Yes.” He bobbed his head, his movements uncoordinated.

“Don’t lie.” She glared harder at him.

Hearing movement, she glanced over her shoulder to see Barney and his colleague peering in the door.

Barney stage whispered, “Don’t annoy Hel. Her temper is as fiery as her hair.”

Hel rolled her eyes at Barney but managed to refrain from commenting—or chucking something at him.

“This is my second bottle. I started drinking after you left my house last night,” Frost admitted.

Hel groaned. Barney was not the most discreet man in the world, and she was sure that bit of gossip would be spreading around the emergency department by the time she finished her shift. Actually, it was unlikely to take that long.

“Go and check him in. I’ll be finished in here in a couple of minutes.”

She waited until both ambos were gone before continuing her conversation with the hulking hockey player.

“Why?” she addressed Frost, who now looked embarrassed.

“Um.” His eyes blinked slowly, and for a moment, Hel thought he passed out. But then they opened again. “You think I’m a has-been loser.”

Hel opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again and said, “What now? What gave you that idea?” She was truly baffled.

The man had a Wikipedia page. He had a million fan pages, and they called themselves Frosty’s Females. He had a website dedicated to what colour t-shirt he wore each day and whether it complemented his eyes. That one made her a little embarrassed to have found, as she had gone a long way down the rabbit hole on Google when she looked up Frost.

“You think I’m a loser, just like Patricia, who told me I was a has-been. The look you gave me as you left yesterday told me that.” Frost crossed his arms.

She thought he was trying to glare at her, but in his drunk state, it was hard to tell as his features all just went a bit squiffy.

“What look?” Hel cast her mind back to leaving his house. As she left, she had been annoyed with Clara for nagging her about Frost. But she hadn’t—oh, hang on—she remembered the look she gave her phone.

Frost wrinkled his nose up and glared at her down it. “This look.”

Yeah, that looked like the type of expression she would give her friends when they were being annoying.

“That wasn’t directed at you.” Hel shrugged helplessly, she hoped he would believe her. “Clara was being annoying, and…” she hesitated, choosing her next words carefully, “teasing me about something. That expression was solely for her.”

“You don’t think I’m a loser?” Frost began to perk up.

“How could I? Look at everything you’ve accomplished.”

“Well. I just, yeah, sorry. I, well. My leg hurt, and I hated that you thought I was washed up. And well…” Frost hung his head.

Hel laughed to herself. Give this man any form of drug, or it turns out alcohol as well, and it was like a truth serum. She was tempted to ask if he liked her but decided as he was a patient now, it would be an unprofessional thing to do while he was vulnerable.

Barney arrived back at the ambulance, poking his head inside, he enquired cheekily,

“Lovers tiff all sorted,”

Hel glared at him but didn’t say anything, hoping Frost hadn’t heard it too.

“Who are lovers?” Frost perked up on the bed, his eyes sharpening a little from their glazed expression. “Is this your boyfriend?” He waved an accusing finger at Barney. “You said you were single as a pringle.”

“Oh my god. Will you stop?” She pointed at Frost. “No more talking until you’re sober.” Then she gave the bird to Barney, “And that is what you deserve.”

“He’s all checked in at the desk,” Barney helpfully added, obviously knowing better than to push Hel any further.

“Thanks. Can you guys unload and bring him in? I’ll find out from the in-charge where you need to take him.” Hel waved a warning finger at Frost. “Are you going to behave?”

“Yes,” he said, and his shoulders deflated.

She turned to leave, then spied his backpack on the floor. “Any more contraband in there?” She shook the whiskey she had clutched in her hand at him.

“No.” He hung his head.

Hel poked the bag, which was heavy with something bottle-shaped in it, and lifted an eyebrow.

“Yes, I have more whiskey,” he muttered.

Hel grabbed the rucksack off the floor. “I’m going to put your bag in my locker. And this…” she shook the half-drunk bottle again, “is going down the sink.”

“No, I—“ He looked at the expensive liquor longingly.

Hel interrupted, “You are not keeping a bottle of backwash whisky. That’s disgusting.”

“Okay,” Frost said meekly.

Hel slung the backpack over her shoulder, climbed out of the ambulance and headed back into the emergency department.

The in-charge nurse stopped her as she passed. “Who do you want to look after your boyfriend? I hear he’s a good-looking and strong young man.” She waggled her eyebrows.

Hel counted to ten before she answered. “He’s one of the ice hockey players on the team I look after. He’s had an accident and is drunk as a lord. Can you put him in one of the major beds, and I’ll come sort him out. If he gives you any problems, tell him you’re getting me.”

“He’s not your boyfriend?” The nurse sounded very disappointed.

“Nope.” Hel shook her head emphatically. “Now, I just need to get rid of this.” She shook the half-empty whisky bottle, sloshing a little onto the floor as she did it. “And put this backpack away.” She hoisted it up onto her shoulder a bit more.

Hel had to check on two of her patients and go over another four cases with the juniors before she had time to see Frost. By the time she got there, he had a drip in, had been given some intravenous fluids and anti-sickness drugs, changed into a hospital gown and was lying in his bed sleeping peacefully.

She took the opportunity to stare at him. She liked him. A lot. Even his drunken escapades hadn’t put her off.

Shaking herself, she stepped into the cubicle. She didn’t know the man. She needed to pull herself together.

“Frost,” she said quietly, gently shaking his arm. Trying not to think too hard about what his skin felt like under her fingers.

“Hmmmm,” he mumbled but didn’t wake up.

Hel picked up one of his hands and examined the skinned knuckles, observing the other one was bleeding too. She didn’t notice when his breathing pattern changed as he woke up, but she did notice when his big hand wrapped around hers.

Her eyes flew up and met his, which were now much clearer than when he had first arrived, the green nearly back to its normal vivid brightness.

“Hi,” Frost’s voice was gravelly.

“Hi,” Hel whispered back. The noises of the busy emergency department receded, until it was only the two of them.

“I fell over.” He winced as her fingers ran over the grazes on his knuckles.

“I guessed that. Did you hurt anything?” She tried to stop herself, but her fingers ignored her brain and stayed gently rubbing over the callouses on his palm.

“I hit my shoulder and grazed my knuckles,” he supplied.

“Is your leg okay?” She asked him, forcing her eyes away from his to examine the plaster.

“I don’t think so. I felt a rip as I fell,” he said, then adjusted his leg, wincing.

“Right.” Hel tugged out of his grip, feeling a chill when she released his warm hands. “You’ve got a back slab on, so I’ll cut the bandages, and we can take a look.”

Frost lay back in the bed as she donned gloves and got to work. Hel kept her gaze focused on his shin, not letting her eyes stray further up the leg that was fully exposed due to the flimsy hospital gown he wore.

She examined his fresh surgical wounds carefully before she said, “You’ve ripped a couple of stitches out. I’ll put some local anaesthetic in and redo them. Okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, letting her take care of him.

“We should X-ray it first, though. Check all the hardware is still in its place.”

“Sure,” he agreed.

“I’ll go order the X-ray and come back after it’s done. I’ll ask one of the nurses to come and sort out your grazes.”

It was busy in the emergency department, and it was close to the end of her shift by the time the X-ray was ready. Hel sighed with relief when she checked it.

“The plates and screws all look good. I’ll get the stitches done, then rewrap your back slab.” Hel took a couple of deep breaths before she blurted the next bit. “Do you want a ride home?”

Frost immediately nodded. “Thanks, that would be great.” He hesitated for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”

Hel looked at him. “Sure.”

“Why don’t I feel worse? I’ve drunk enough today to sink a battleship.”

Hel grinned. “I took mercy on you. You’ve had two litres of fluid and multiple anti-sickness drugs.”

“Thanks.” His green eyes were slightly clouded, and he was clearly still a bit drunk, but he wasn’t paralytic like he had been a couple of hours ago.

Hel put on her sterile gloves and cleaned his wound with chlorhexidine. Then, she injected him with a local anaesthetic. She efficiently removed the two torn stitches, replaced them, and redressed the wound. She finished by rewrapping his back slab.

Stepping away from the bed, she gave him a small smile and said, “I finish in an hour. I’ll come fetch you then and run you home.”