Which, Jared saw, now turned out to be extremely fortunate.
Handing the jar to Max, the latter proceeded to undertake a running commentary on what he was doing. Unlike Andrew, Jared thought, Max sounded extremely full of himself.
“You have to hold the slotted spoon just so as you stir the spaghetti or—”
A particularly loud thwack resonated behind them, at the table where he had left April chopping celery. Celery, it was apparent, wasn’t the only thing that April had chopped.
For the second time in the two days since he’d made her acquaintance, April screamed. Unlike the scream she’d let out yesterday, which had only been filled with surprise and a touch of fear, this one had a blood-curdling quality about it.
“What the hell?” Max exclaimed. The sentence abruptly terminated, to be replaced by, “Oh my God,” as Max looked in April’s direction. The next moment, he was clutching his less than strong stomach, a gurgling sound escaping his lips.
“My finger!” April shrieked, staring at the blood as it gushed with horrified eyes. “I cut my finger! Oh my God, my God, I cut my finger off. I—”
Instantly alert, ignoring the gagging sounds behind him, Jared grabbed one of the small white towels that seemed to be placed on every flat surface in the kitchen not directly in the way of a flame. He only glanced at it to make sure it was clean. The bleeding had to be stopped at all costs.
He almost collided with Maren, who had raced out of her office to see what the excitement was this time. “Sorry,” he bit off. Even as he said it, he was wrapping the towel around the bleeding digit. Finished, he raised April’s hand up high over her head. All the color had drained out of her face.
“Hold it up,” he ordered.
But the second he released her hand, it sank down, as if all the bones inside of it had liquefied. “I can’t,” April wailed. “I…think…I’m…going to…pass…out.”
“No, you’re not.” There was no nonsense in his voice, an order issued to a subordinate.
For a second his command seemed to jolt her to her senses. April attempted to do she was told. But the sight of her own blood, coupled with the trauma of the event and fear had her sinking against him like a bag stuffed with used tissues.
Frustrated, Jared raised April’s arm and held it up high, his other arm wrapped around her waist to support her. He looked around for help and saw Maren. He didn’t hesitate. “Get some ice and something to put the severed part in. We have to pack it and get her to the hospital right away.”
With every word he uttered, April looked as if she was getting weaker and weaker. The next thing he knew, her eyes had rolled to the back of her head and she sank bonelessly against him. He had no choice but to scoop her up into his arms, balancing her so that he could keep her one hand up in the air.
The next thing he was aware of was Maren returning to his side. She held a bag crammed with ice in her hand.
“You’re going to have to put her finger in there,” he instructed.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Max backing away. Jared was fully prepared to have Maren turn squeamish on him, as well, protesting that she couldn’t bring herself to touch the severed fingertip. In his experience, most people did not react well to handling body parts, even small ones.
He saw her grow pale.
Maren could feel her stomach rising up to her throat, threatening to spill its contents. It took effort to block out the sensation and not give in to it. She wasn’t any good with blood. But this wasn’t a time to think about herself. She knew that every second counted. They needed to get April and her finger to the hospital and have them rejoined within the hour if the young woman was to ever regain use of that part.
Taking a breath, Maren picked up the finger from the edge of the butcher block and deposited it into the plastic bag. She tied off the end of the bag tightly.
“I’ll drive,” she told Jared, nodding toward the rear entrance where she’d left her car parked. “I’m going to need you to carry her into the E.R.”
Max deliberately avoided looking at the bag in her hand. “Want me to call 9-1-1?” he offered.
Maren vetoed the idea. “It’ll be faster if I just drive her there.” She turned toward Jared. “C’mon, let’s go.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, a little surprised. Somehow, the woman had managed to take the command away from him.
Chapter 3
“That’s my car.”
Maren pointed her security device at a light blue Toyota coupe. The vehicle squeaked in response as its four doors unlocked simultaneously.
Moving ahead of him, Maren opened the rear passenger door before hurrying around to the driver’s side. “Get in.”
Jared angled April into her seat before slipping in next to her. The woman had regained consciousness. Hysteria was quick to follow, and she began screaming again. He did his best to calm her.
He took her wrapped hand and held it up while securing her seat belt around her with his free hand. He left his own seat belt open, something he hoped he wouldn’t regret as Maren pealed out of her spot and hit the road. Hard.
The woman wove in and out of traffic as if she were in hot pursuit of a fleeing vehicle, flying through lights that had begun to turn red. Jared braced his body as best he could.
“It’s going to be all right,” he assured April, repeating the phrase over and over again until he’d finally managed to calm her down.
There was a plea in the young woman’s eyes that begged him to tell her the truth. Jared knew he had a gift for convincing people of his sincerity in the face of contradiction. He used it on April. She seemed to vacillate between wanting to believe him and being terrified that she was going to remain maimed by her own carelessness.
“But I cut it off,” April cried just as he thought she’d finally gotten herself under control. “I saw it just lying there—”
“Maren packed it in ice.” He nodded toward the woman in the driver’s seat. “They’ll reattach it. They can work wonders these days. Six months from now, you won’t even remember which finger it was.”
A brand new fear entered the girl’s brown eyes. They darted from Jared’s face to the back of Maren’s head. “I didn’t sign up for the insurance. I couldn’t afford it. They won’t—”
“They will,” Maren told her firmly.
She took another turn. Because he’d failed to brace himself, Jared hit the back of the front seat. He fumbled for his seat belt clasp, trying to anchor himself before there was another turn. Maren’s eyes met his in the rearview mirror.
“Sorry about that,” Maren murmured before glancing in the mirror to look back toward April. “The accident happened at work. Everything’ll be covered under workman’s compensation. Don’t worry about the cost.”
April’s sobs subsided in volume, then finally faded. She hiccuped, wiping away her tears with the back of her good hand. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive,” Maren told her with the kind of authority that would calm the worst of fears.
They’d reached St. Luke’s Hospital in record time. After making a left onto the newly renovated compound, Maren pulled into the first available space she saw. The parking lot behind the E.R. entrance was small in comparison to the others, but for once it was relatively empty.
Maren jumped out of the front seat, rounding the hood and hurrying to April’s side of the vehicle. The man she’d had misgivings