Chapter 3: Katerina

Maybe it was the blood loss or dehydration, but I swear I just heard a record scratch. How was I supposed to respond to that? ‘Dear god, yes please’ might come across a bit eager. I felt like I couldn’t think straight and like the world was spinning a bit. Luckily, I had a lot that I could blame that on. I clutched tighter to his face and stared down at him. ‘God he looks so sexy, kneeling at my feet.’

“I don’t kiss like a lot of women.” At the look of confusion on his face, I push myself to continue. “I won’t let you take charge. It does nothing for me to have a man lead.” I didn’t want to go into all of it, but I knew that I needed him to at least understand this much. He would not be in control of us, and if he wasn’t ok with that, then I wouldn’t be ok with us even attempting it.

His expression got more intent, and his irises seemed to turn molten at my words. In fact, he looked slightly dazed as he responded. “Please, Katerina.” It sounded as sinful and wanton as “mistress” would have coming from anyone else. I tightened my hold on either side of his face and leaned down. However, just as our lips were about to touch, there was a knock at the door.

I growled low under my breath. Remington made as if to stand, and my instincts took over. I gripped his chin harder and pulled him roughly back into place and hissed out “I didn’t tell you to move.” He immediately sat back down and stared at me.

Realizing what I had just done, ordered him about and possibly hurt him with no real discussion or consent, I pulled my hand away like his face had scolded me and looked on in horror. An apology sprang to my lips, but the knock came again. This seemed to jar Remington, but not before I caught the expression of what looked like disappointment and irritation crossed his face before it went back to the inscrutable mask that he often showed to outsiders.

He got up and went to the door while calling out “One second!” in a deep voice. When he opened it, there was a large male holding a med bag and looking fairly irritated himself. “We got a call about a gunshot wound.”

Remington nodded and motioned the group of paramedics through the door and pointed to the couch where I was sitting. The medic stepped past him and came over to me. He was entirely professional as he asked me about my information and pertinent medical history. I could see the surprise on his face when he examined my bandaged leg. “This is ... amazing work.” Here he looked back over at Remington. “Did you do this?”

Remington just wordlessly shook his head and motioned back over at me. When the medic looked back at me, his look changed from impressed to one that I would have considered awestruck. “I don’t see any blood here. Where did you bandage it?”

“Out in the woods. I had to walk maybe ... a mile and a half after they had shot me.” At this point, they had checked my eyes and blood pressure and were loading me onto a stretcher. Remington followed us out the door. It was always a bit discombobulating, being loaded onto a stretcher and strapped down. I knew why they had to do it, but still. The jostling sent pain up my leg and I cried out. The medic apologized and I turned to him. “Would it be alright if he comes too?”

“Is he your husband, Ma’am?” The thought of Remington and I being married made me laugh a bit despite the pain.

“No, just an old friend of mine. We were colleagues when we worked with the wilderness S&R.” Mentioning this was a bit of a cheap blow in a ‘Look at us. We’re your people.’ type of way, but if it got him onto that helicopter then I wasn’t about to feel bad about it. Of course, that could have backfired in a ‘We know how to do your jobs and might try to tell you how to do it and get in your way.’ type of way. The medic just shrugged, and they all made their way to the medevac, ducking under the blades.

To my great relief, Remington did not, in fact, try to butt-in with even a single word on how they were caring for me. He hopped onto the helicopter with a practiced ease that I knew so well and immediately grabbed an empty seat, buckling himself in.

The medics had already laid me down, and now I could see them better. One had been behind me basically the whole time. She was a broad shouldered and muscular woman with her flaming-red hair pulled back into a tight, no-nonsense braid that had been pinned into a bun at the back of her head. She dawned the thick headset that allowed the crew to talk to each other. From her outfit and I.D, it was clear that she was the Specialist sent on board to assess me fully.

From behind, someone slipped a pair of headphones over my ears and I could finally hear something other than the roaring of the rotors. “Hi! I’m Melanie.” Her pale face was impassive as she checked out my bandage as well but when she looked up at me, her face lit up in a grin. “Here I thought I was going to get to do some surgery or at least see some blood, but it appears that someone has already done some of my job for me.” Her smile was infectious, and I gave her one in return.

“Sorry Doc, didn’t mean to take all the fun out of the flight. Just didn’t want to bleed out in the woods.” She laughed at that, though the underlying static and the wind gave the sound a weirdly garbled quality.

“Completely understandable. Suppose I’ll just have to wait for the next one. Is the bullet still inside or was it a through-and-through?” I shook my head.

“No, stopped about an inch from exiting. Didn’t chip any bone though, as far as I could tell. I think it may have ricocheted off of something before hitting me, or he was farther away than I thought.” The surgeon nodded her head.

“You get a good look at the bastard that did it?” My eyes widened a bit at her comfortable wording but quickly shrugged it off. This wasn’t my job and she wasn’t my crew. I shook my head and sighed.

“They were driving behind me on the road but I could never see them through the windshield. Then, by the time I was in the woods and they were chasing me ... well, I was in the woods and being chased and shot at, so I couldn’t really focus on what they looked like.” Melanie shrugged and patted the foot of my non-injured leg.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that Hun. Hopefully, they fall in the woods and break their ever-loving necks.” I laughed softly at that. From the headphones, I heard a chorus of “Here, Here!” coming from the other crew members. It felt good, almost as if I was back on my own helo with my own people, leaving a successful rescue. Though Remington hadn’t uttered a word.