Southern Heart Madison, Natasha (ebook and pdf reader .txt) 📖

easier than I thought. “You need stitches in your cheek.” The gash on his cheek is now leaking blood, and I apply a bit of pressure to stop the bleeding. “Hold this on his cheek,” I tell Ethan, and he puts his hand on the towel. I ignore the pain in my chest as I wipe away the dirt from his swollen eye. One towel isn’t enough to clean just his face. Emily comes in with the bucket of warm water and places it beside me, then she hands me the first aid kit. I open it and grab the gauze, pushing it on his gunshot wound. “I need more towels,” I tell her, and she gets up.

Emily rushes out of the room and grabs another one as Ethan just looks at me in shock. "He needs stitches on his cheek and his forehead." I look down at the shirt and look up at Ethan, who nods his head at me. “He’s been shot." I look at Ethan, and my eyes go to the wound. He picks up one of Mayson’s hands, and I see the raw and bloody marks around his wrists. My eyes find the ink on his arm I’ve spent so much time studying from afar.

Ethan lifts Mayson’s shirt, and I see the bullet wound as the squishing sound of the shirt being torn away from the wound is heard. My eyes focus on the wound. "Chelsea," Ethan says my name, and I snap into action.

"I need my bag." I look up at Emily, who has tears rolling down her face as she watches Mayson fight for his life. She turns and runs out into the rainstorm. I grab his wrist in my hand and feel for a pulse. "It’s steady but…"

I look up toward the open door when headlights shine into the house. The crunching of rocks sounds under tires as someone parks their truck. Two doors open and close, then I hear running but look down when I hear moaning again. I see his finger twitch.

"What the fuck happened?" I hear from beside me and look up to see my cousin Quinn walking in with his father and our uncle Casey, and both of them are drenched. Quinn carries my black medical bag while Casey has his arm around Emily. The bag was a gift from my grandparents when I graduated and has a gold monogram of my name stitched on the side.

"I have no idea," I start to say. "He came here, banging on the door." I open my bag and look over at Ethan. "What is the ETA on the ambulance?" Ethan ignores my eyes and turns to look at Casey.

"No." We hear grumbling coming from Mayson, and my eyes go back down to him as he tries to shake his head from side to side.

"If he came here," Ethan says, "then he’s running from someone."

"If he’s running," Casey says, stepping forward, "then we need to get him the fuck out of here. Far away from here."

Ethan nods his head and looks at me. "What can you do to make him comfortable so we can take him out of here?"

"Take him out of here?" I open the bag and grab my stethoscope. "Are you insane? He needs a hospital. First off, he’s been shot. Then his legs need to be checked out. I don’t even know what is going on internally. He can have a head injury we don’t know about. He needs a hospital."

"He had to have been in his right mind to drive here." Ethan looks at me, and I want to agree with him.

"Any normal person wouldn’t be able to walk ten steps with his injuries," I say. "You guys are trained for this," I tell him. "You’re trained to shut it down and fight through everything until you get to your hub." I throw up my hand. "Or whatever it’s called."

"Chelsea," Casey says my name, and I look up at my uncle, who now squats down in front of us. "Honey, he can’t go to the hospital. Ethan is right."

"You are all insane." I shake my head. "I will get him as stable as I can, and then his doctor can treat him."

Ethan looks at Casey, and the two share a look. "Honey," my uncle Casey says, and I know what is coming. But even if I know it’s coming, hearing the words makes me shake my head. "You can treat him."

"Are you two crazy?" I look at them both and then up at Quinn, who is looking at me. Nothing is on his face but worry. "I can’t do this." I get up, waiting for someone else to say how fucking crazy this is. Quinn now averts his eyes, and when I look at Emily, she wrings her hands.

Emily steps forward now. "If anyone can help him, you can." She comes to me and puts her hand in mine.

"I’m a nurse. I am not a doctor. He might need surgery, and that is not even my specialty." I look down now as my eyes focus on the bullet wound. It’s leaking down his side to the floor, where there is a puddle of blood now. "An X-ray needs to be done to make sure I know where the bullet is lodged. We need to get him hydrated."

"I can get anything you need," Casey says, "except the X-ray machine."

"Bullet…" We hear from Mayson, and all eyes turn back to him as he hisses through the pain, using all of his energy as he says the next words. His eye close as he starts to talk again. But he stays alert enough to tell us everything. "Went straight through." I grab a pair of gloves from my bag. "My legs." I look down and see the seeping, soaked pant legs that I didn’t even notice. "Stabbed four times." He trails off now, and we know because his head turns to the side. My head spins when I think of his