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Afraid To Lose Her
Afraid To Lose Her
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Afraid To Lose Her

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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.”

What? Cancer? Sherri tried to find words to say but couldn’t seem to find any. Instead, she shook her head until the doctor put a hand on hers. “Like I said. Most turn out to be nothing, a cyst. But I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Okay.”

A nurse poked her head into the room. “Ron says he can take her in about an hour. And she’s got an army wanting to see her out in the waiting room.”

Sherri closed her eyes and took another deep breath. “Mama.”

“I can go get her so that she can accompany you up to radiology if you’d like.”

Sherri shook her head. As comforting as the thought was of having Mama next to her while they ran tests, she had to be strong and do this on her own. “No. I don’t want her to know anything yet. But I do want to see her before.” She paused. “And Dez.”

Dr. Sprader nodded. “I’ll send her back. And she’ll only know what you want to tell her.”

The doctor left, and Sherri collapsed back onto the gurney. Chances are the lump Dr. Sprader had found was nothing. But what if it wasn’t?

* * *

THE ER DOCTOR entered the waiting room and scanned faces until she found his. She gave a soft smile and approached where he stood among the many members of the Lopez family. “She’s asking to see you and her mother.”

Dez reached around and brought Perla Lopez forward. The woman grasped the doctor’s hand. “How is she?”

“She’s going to be fine, Mrs. Lopez. If you follow me, I’ll take you back to see her.”

Dez frowned at this. “When will she be ready to go home?”

“There’s some tests I’d like to run first before we release her.” She wound around the various beds and rooms before taking them back to a trauma area. She opened the door and led them both inside then quietly left.

Sherri lay on the gurney, her left arm over her eyes, which she dropped to her side and held out to her mother. “I’m going to be fine, Mama.”

Perla rushed to her left side and pulled her into an embrace, tears streaming from her eyes. “Desmond said that you were okay, but I needed to see it with my own eyes.”

“It’s okay.” Sherri winced but didn’t let go of her mother. “I’m okay.”

Dez touched her foot still in a black boot. “They let you keep the bullet as a souvenir?”

Her eyes rose to his, and she shook her head. “No bullet. Passed right through. Just like the paramedic said.”

“She said that when you were unconscious.”

Sherri shrugged. “I heard her say it, though. I’ll have to take it easy, but other than that I’m good to go. What we need to do is figure out who tipped off our drug runners that we were coming.”

“There’s time for that later. The important part is for you to get better. How are you going to pitch your killer curveball this summer if you pull out your stitches?” He felt better talking about the coed softball team they cocaptained rather than the chance he could have lost her earlier. Easier to joke around than admit that he’d almost choked on his fear. He needed her more than he had realized, wanted her in a way he hadn’t known before. Pushing that thought aside, he leaned against one wall, his hands behind his back to avoid doing something stupid like touching her to make sure she was okay. “We’re not going to lose out to the Detroit Cop Union again. You need to be in fighting shape.”

She paled but nodded. “I will be.”

“Good.”

Perla pressed a kiss to Sherri’s forehead. “Your father, he’s been pacing the waiting room. Can I send him back?” When Sherri nodded, Perla looked up to Dez. “Would you mind going to get him?”

“Actually, Mama, I need to talk to Dez alone for a moment. Work stuff. Do you mind?”

Perla kissed Sherri again then left the room. Dez raised an eyebrow at Sherri. “You want to talk work stuff?”

“No. The doctor found something, and I don’t want Mama to know. Not yet.” She touched her chest above the white gauze that covered her wound. “A lump.”

Dez took a step forward and grasped the bed rail to keep from falling. What was she saying? “What kind of lump?”

“She doesn’t know, so that’s why she’s running more tests. Dez, I’m...” She broke off and reached out to touch his hand. “What if it’s cancer?”

He clasped her hand in his. “What if it’s not?”

She swallowed, and she looked so pale. As if the blood had drained from her face and out her wound. He noticed the IV that pumped blood into her, so that couldn’t be it. She brought her eyes up to his. “But what if it is? It’ll change everything.”

“Then we’ll deal with it if it is.” He squeezed her hand. “But chances are it’s not. What did the doctor think?”

“Better safe than sorry. And she did say the chances are small.”

He gave her a smile, hoping it showed her that he was more confident than he felt. “There you go. Stop worrying about the worst-case scenario and focus on the greater possibility that it’s nothing.”

Sherri let out a breath through her nose, and her nostrils flared. “Before we went into that warehouse, you remember what you said? Well, I got a bad feeling about this.”

* * *

THE HOUR UNTIL she could get into her mammogram turned into two. She sent her family home with promises to call when she was released. She’d even said goodbye to Dez, who watched her with a dark emotion shining from his chocolate-brown eyes. She hated to have dumped her thoughts on him, but that was what they did. They shared everything, and this was just one more thing to add to the pile.

She’d been changed into a light pink smock that tied in the front. She could lift her right shoulder a little, but the pain from her side limited her motion. The ER doctor quickly assisted her. Sherri looked at her. “You don’t have to stay with me, you know. Your job ended once I was cleaned and sutured.”

Dr. Sprader didn’t look at her but fastened the ties around Sherri’s side to keep the smock in place. “I know, but I remember this. Waiting for tests, and then results. And all the time wondering what did I do to deserve it?” She lifted her blue-gray eyes to meet Sherri’s. “I don’t want you to go through it alone like I did, Ms. Lopez. Besides, I’m off duty and can do what I want.”

“I’ll be fine. And it’s Sherri.”

Dr. Sprader took a deep breath. “I’m April.”

They walked out of the dressing room and into the waiting area that was painted and carpeted in various shades of pink. April gestured Sherri to a chair and grabbed a magazine. “They’re running behind so we could be waiting for a while.”

Sherri took the magazine and flipped through it, not able to focus on the images or words. Instead, her mind buzzed with possible outcomes. Finally, she dropped the magazine back onto the table and glanced around. Another woman in a similar pink smock gave her a tremulous smile, which Sherri tried to return, but found it too much of an effort. “When were you diagnosed?”

April looked up from her own magazine. “About a year ago. I was lucky since they found it early. But I have friends who weren’t so fortunate.”

“What happens next?”

“After the mammogram, a doctor will analyze the images then maybe nothing. I’ll take you back to the ER, and you can go home.” April touched her hand as if to reassure her this would be the result.

But Sherri was a realist, if nothing else. She could focus on what she hoped would be the outcome, but she needed to know all the facts. “And if it’s not nothing?”

“An ultrasound, and maybe a biopsy. It’ll be over before you know it.”

Biopsy meant more needles. Sherri gave a small shudder. “And then?”