Fit to be Chai-ed
“Let me go!” She pulled out of the officer’s grasp for the second time and jogged over to the paramedics, squeezing between two of them to look down at the figure being wheeled away.
“Erik? Oh God. Is he okay?” He opened his eyes, and she jogged beside the gurney, sick at the sight of red staining the white sheet underneath him. “Are you okay? You’re bleeding…”
“Move out of the way, ma’am. He’s been shot. We need to get him to the hospital.”
Strong hands pulled her back as the paramedics loaded the bed into the back of an ambulance. She tried to follow, struggling against her captor, but he was too strong and she watched helplessly as the vehicle drove off, lights flashing and sirens wailing.
“I overheard them,” the officer behind her said when she finally turned around. “No promises, but I think he’ll be okay. You, on the other hand, look like you could use a check-up yourself. There’s another bus over here, which is where I was trying to take you the first time.”
Anna nodded, going with him to the waiting paramedics. Accepting the blanket they offered, she sat where they directed her to as they checked her over. There were so many questions to answer, from both the officer and the paramedics, and she did her best to answer them before the ambulance finally whisked her away.
The next week was a blur of doctors, pain pills and sleep. Somehow she’d escaped with only a broken rib that would heal in time, but she hadn’t been able to relax since. Will’s cohorts had been captured the same day, and Erik would heal, but there was still something gnawing at her, leaving the incident unfinished in her mind. Something she couldn’t quite put a finger on.
By Friday, she could almost breathe without the sharp, stabbing pain in her side, and after a careful shower, she decided to make the trip to the hospital to visit Detective Hansen. Purely to thank him for saving her life, of course. But when she got to the room number an officer at the precinct had given her, it was empty. A helpful nurse told her that the detective had checked out two days before.
As she drove home, Anna gave herself a mental lecture about reading more into the situation than was really there. They’d been working a job together, that’s all, and besides, he’d practically blackmailed her into it. None of it meant anything – he had no obligation to call her when he got home, just as she had no obligation to visit him.
It was good he hadn’t been there, she told herself. He might have thought she was interested in him or something. That would have been embarrassing, considering he probably hadn’t thought of her at all. She went inside and closed the door, breathing a sigh of relief. What had she been thinking?
The invitation to the accountant’s dinner the next night winked at her from the entry table, and she remembered the day the detective had come to her office and made a bargain to go with her if she’d help him. He’d undoubtedly forgotten, but it was okay. She’d go by herself, again, and that would be easier than trying to explain who he was anyway.
Especially since none of those people would ever see him again.
Satisfied for the moment, she locked the door and went to the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later, she settled under a blanket on the couch, a glass of wine on the coffee table, a pint of chocolate ice cream in hand, and her favorite romantic comedy playing on the TV.
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