Page 4 of Rage's Solace
“Well, be careful. If he escalates, get the hell outta there.”
“Will do,” I lie.
From the moment I step out on that lawn my fate will be irrevocably intertwined with those hostages. In my mind, my job is to keep the woman and child alive until the police can resolve the situation. Nothing else matters. I can do this, I tell myself.
Getting to my feet, I slowly walk out in front of the vehicle with my bag in one hand and my other raised in the air. “Don’tshoot. I’m not a cop. I’m a paramedic here to treat your wife’s injuries.”
“Step the fuck back. My wife is fine. She doesn’t need you or any damn body else. Just me,” he screams. “She just needs me.”
I take a step closer. “Sir, your wife has been shot, you don’t want to make this situation any worse than it is.”
“That was an accident. It wasn’t my fault and I’m not going to fucking jail over something that I didn’t mean to happen.”
“Look, I don’t care about any of that. Your wife is injured. My job is to patch her up. Let me do that and I’ll leave right away.”
“No. All you first responders have hero complexes. I don’t trust you to be inside my house, around my family.”
“Well, if your wife dies, it’s going to be ten times harder to prove it was an accident. And killing someone is much more serious than just shooting someone. I think it would be in your best interest to let me have a look at her. It could be like you said, nothing serious. But what if you’re wrong and she dies? I’m sure you wouldn’t want that on your conscience.”
The man steps out of the shadows just a bit and then immediately pulls back. “Do I know you? Your voice sounds familiar.”
“I’m a paramedic. You’re living in a mini mansion. I don’t think we travel in the same circles.”
I hear him snort a laugh at my self-effacing comment. “Fine. Get your ass in here. If you try anything cute, I’ll blow your fucking head off.”
I swiftly move forward and remind him, “I thought you were trying to avoid committing murder today, especially with all those cops watching.”
He reaches out and gives me rough shove as I walk through the door. “She’s in the back of the living room. I told her to get up off the fucking floor, but she doesn’t listen.” Turning to his wife, he shouts, “She never fucking listens to a damn word I have to say. Not ever. No matter how many times I tell her to stay in the fucking house.”
I rush to her side and kneel down as he takes a break from ranting long enough to take another swig out of his whiskey bottle. Her hair is matted with blood, and I can’t see her face. She moves slightly and I see a girl of eight or nine hiding behind her. No, the woman is using her body to press the little girl back against the wall. My blood runs cold as I realize she’s protecting the child with her own body, even though she’s bleeding so bad, the carpet is soaked with her blood.
I reach out to take her pulse but the man behind me roars, “Don’t fucking touch her. She’s mine.”
Chapter 2
Priscilla
Ifeel lightheaded but I’m vaguely aware that Conrad is arguing with someone, another man it sounds like. It slowly dawns on me that they’re talking about me. I try not to move around too much because I feel like I bleed more when I move.
Mia is still as death behind me. One of her hands comes up to grasp my shoulder. “Mommy, are you okay?” she whispers in a small, terrified voice.
I respond in a barely audible tone while holding my hand to my chest. “Yes. Be still, baby. Your papa’s having another bad day.”
My Mia would normally remind me that she’s not a baby anymore. And that ten-year-olds are practically grown. But not today. Right now we’re both in survival mode. Everything hangs in the balance of not setting Conrad off even more.
Her small hand flexes on my shoulder. “I’m scared, Mommy. Really scared this time.”
For the first time ever, I respond, “I am too, baby. No matter what happens, I want you to know that I love you.”
That’s when Conrad opens the door to let the medical person in. I don’t know if this person is a doctor, nurse, or EMT. All I know is that my chances of surviving this day just increased exponentially.
I can hear the man kneel in front of me and he tries to move my hair out of my face, probably to ask me where it hurts. Isn’t that normally what they do? I can’t think straight because Conrad is losing his mind over the man helping me.
He raises his voice to match the energy Conrad is giving off. “I’m here to save your wife’s life. Have you seen how much blood she’s lost already? She needs help before she bleeds out on your living room floor.”
“Don’t try anything stupid.”
“There’s only one person who’s doing anything stupid today,” the man mutters under his breath. His voice suddenly sounds so familiar, but I can’t seem to place it. My mind is all muddled. All I know is that I have to protect Mia and survive this day because I can’t trust Conrad not to start taking all his rage out on her once I’m gone. Therefore, I fight to stay conscious. I fight hard to survive. The first thing I do is take my hand away from my chest.