"Wick . . ." Ryan breathed as he began nuzzling her neck. She put her head
back as he kissed the delicate skin behind her ear lobe. Her hands were
running over his back and occasionally tangled in his hair. She grabbed his
head in her hands and guided it up to her face where his lips crushed
against hers. They pulled back, breathless and delirious.
"Where . . . did that come from?" she asked, more to herself than Wick.
"I don't know . . . I guess I . . . I'm sorry, Ryan," he apologized.
"Don't be. Hey, you know that song, ‘Genie In a Bottle?'" she asked. he
nodded, a little confused. "Well, that one verse, ‘My body's saying let's
go, but my heart is saying no' that's kinda how I feel right now,"
Wick smiled a little.
"Don't get me wrong . . . I wanted you to—" Just then, the door opened and
Bell walked in.
"Hi, guys. Man, that Sonja is one hell of a poker player. She wiped me
out," he laughed. "Are you guys okay? You looked a little flushed," he
shrugged. "Oh, well. I'm gonna go find Sonja,"
"Is everyone obsessed with that girl?" Ryan asked indignantly. Just then
the alarm went off.
"Rescue 77 person injured 118 West Lane by River Oak. Time out 22:17,"
Wick hurried to get in his jumper and Ryan casually pulled hers on. Bell
walked in the room and grabbed his. "Okay, we ready?"
"Yup," Ryan responded, pulling her hair back. They walked out to the rig,
Bell hopped in the driver's side and Ryan in shotgun. Wick climbed in the
back and finished putting on his jumper. The ride was pretty quiet, but they
soon pulled up at a large house where a party seemed to be going on.
"What exactly was the call?" Wick asked.
"Person injured," Bell answered.
"Person hung over," Ryan cracked. Wick smiled and ushered her inside the
house. "Excuse me, please," she called, pushing a few people aside so she
could get to the body on the stairs. "LAFA, please move aside,"
The girl on the stairs was about eighteen. She had several lacerations on
her face and her ankle was bleeding. "City base, Rescue 77. Victim is
female, approximately eighteen years old. Ankle appears broken. Patient ha
several long lacerations on her face. She is conscious, BP is normal,
respirations are 28 with good tidal volume," she relayed into the headset.
"Rescue 77, City base, copy that. Start large bore IV, splint ankle,
bandage face and transport.
"77 copy," she put on a collar and started an IV. Wick and Bell lifted her
onto the stretcher where they bandaged her face and Ryan splint the ankle.
"Okay," Ryan said while she was working. "My name is Kathleen Ryan. What's
yours?" the girl was obviously scared.
"Syn . . .Syndi," she replied. Ryan smiled at her.
"Okay, Syndi, we're taking you to the hospital to have these scrapes and
bruises checked out," Ryan said.
§*§*§*§*§*§
They arrived back at the station to find everyone crowded around Sonja.
"What's up, guys?" Ryan asked. she was instantly sorry she had.
"Sonja said she's sing at the Christmas party next month," Carla smiled.
Ryan's smile instantly disappeared.
"We figured since you sing every year, you'd want a break," Bridges chimed
in. "Is . . . is that okay?"
"Yeah," she smiled. "Thanks," she headed to her room, her jumper already
half off. A minute later a knock came at the door and Sonja poked her head
in.
"Hi," she said, slipping in the room. "Look, I'm sorry if I stole your
song, but I love singing," she said. Ryan gave her a sweet smile.
"It's okay. I was going to turn down anyway," she lied. She noticed
something in Sonja's hand. "What's that?"
"Oh, the key to the liquor cabinet. You want something?"
"Uh . . ." Ryan knew what she should say. She knew she should say no. but
the thought of just forgetting everything . . . Sonja . . . Monica . . . her
mother . . . Wick . . . it was too tempting. "Sure. I don't care what. Just
. . . grab me something,"
****
Wick escorted Ryan into the room which was elaborately decorated with red
and green balls, garland and lights. A large tree stood in the middle by the
stage with a beautiful angel on top. It was mandatory that everyone had to
bring a date, and everyone was hurrying to ask Sonja. Ryan had been asked by
Bell, Wick, and Rodriguez, and finally decided to go with Wick.
She wore a long red satin dress with arm hugging sleeves. Her hair was
piled on the top of her head, with a few curly strands falling randomly.
Around her neck she wore the tear-shaped diamond necklace Wick had given
her, and on her wrist she wore the gold bracelet from Bell.
Bell had gotten Sonja to go with him. She was dressed in a long black silk
dress with her blond hair loose. She looked happy on Bell's arm, but he kept
shooting looks over at Ryan and Wick.
Bridges stood up on the stage and grabbed the microphone. "As we all know,
tonight is not only a night to dance, and shmooze, but also to earn money
for fire departments across California. So at this time, I would like to
introduce this year's spokeswoman, Miss Carla Aguliar," Carla walked up on
the stage, her dark hair flowing past her shoulders. She was wearing and
deep green dress, and, like Ryan, she blended in with the decorations. She
was speaking when Sonja came up to Ryan.
"Ryan," she said, her voice scratchy. "I . . . I can't sing. I tried to
call you earlier, but . . . well, will you please . . . take my place? All
you have to sing is Silent Night, but without music. And throw in a few
other songs of your own. I was going to do Amazing Grace, but . . .
whatever. . . ." Ryan stared at her in bewilderment. She had thrown this on
her 10 minutes before the singing started.
"Uh . . . yeah . . . I guess so," she said. Sonja hurried off and Ryan
hurried over to Bridges. "Bridges! There's been a change! Sonja can't sing.
She asked me to take her place,"
"Oh, okay . . . four songs, counting Silent Night. What are your other
three songs?" he was panicking almost as bad as she was.
"Uh . . . um . . . ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem', ‘It Came Upon The Midnight
Clear', and . . . . ‘Amazing Grace'," she told him. He nodded and rushed off
to the piano player. Wick was standing back at the punch bowl smiling as she
approached.
"You're gonna knock them off their feet, just as you do every year," he
promised, noticing how scared she looked. She smiled and nodded gratefully.
"Ladies and Gents," Bridges began. "We've had a slight change in plans, so
give it up for Ms. Kathleen Ryan," he said. Everyone cheered and cat-called
as she walked up on the stage. Picking up her microphone, she began to sing.
"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once
was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see,"she continued on. Her
voice was pure and sounded like crystal throughout the room. Her voice
carried and music floated around the ears of everyone in the room. All
conversation had stopped as she sang, they were all watching her. They'd
heard her every year, but had somehow forgotten how sweet and angelic she
sounded.
Everyone stayed glued to the spot until she had sung every song. The room
was silent, followed by thunderous applause. She put the microphone back on
the stand and gracefully walked down the platform stairs. That had scared
her so bad, yet gave her such a rush. Right now she really wanted a beer,
but all they served was punch.
Wick greeted her halfway across the room. "My God, you sounded terrific,"
he told her.
"Thanks," she told him. "Uh . . . I think I'm going to go find Carla," she
told him. He nodded and she took off. She was stopped by Sonja.
"You were terrific," she said hoarsely. "Hey, Rodriguez had some great
spiked punch," she confided laughingly. She pointed over to a cluster of
firemen.
"Well, thanks," Ryan said. She slowly made her way over to the group. "Hey
guys," she said.
"Ryan!"
"Hey! You were great!"
"Way to go, Ryan!" they said.
"Thanks guys. Hey, I was told that this was the place to come for some
special punch," she laughed.
"Who told you? Well, if you don't tell anyone else, you can have free
refills all night," Bridges laughed.
"Sounds good!" Ryan chuckled.
"Here's a cup," Rodriguez handed her a paper cup, and Bridges filled it up.
"Thanks guys," she said. Now all she had to do was avoid Wick . . . she saw
him approaching. ‘No such luck' she thought to herself.
"Find her?" he asked, slipping his arm around her.
"No," she said. "I'm going to the restroom," she slipped away.
§*§*§*§*§*§*§
"Wick! Wick!" he turned to see Carla running towards him, a frantic look on
her face.
"What?" he was slightly confused.
"It's Ryan! She's . . . passed out in the bathroom," she told him.
His heart hammering in his chest, he dodged past angry and annoyed firemen
racing towards the restroom. His mind was racing and his breath was coming
in irregular intervals. He banged open the ladies' room door and found Ryan
on the floor, Sonja and a woman from Station 29 at her side. "Move!" he
ordered.
"I don't know what happened. She just–" Sonja started.
"Has she been drinking?" he asked.
"Yeah, she had a few glasses of spiked punch, but–" Sonja said.
"Shit!" Wick yelled. "We've got to get her to the hospital now!" he said.
"Sonja, go get Bell. Tell him to get in here," he told her. She jumped up
and ran out of the room. About two minutes later, Bell came darting into the
room.
"What happened?" he demanded.
"No time to explain," he said. Digging through Ryan's purse, he found her
keys. "She's got a bigger backseat then we do, so go pull her jeep around,"
Bell ran out of the room, giving Sonja an apologetic glance.
Standing, Wick through Ryan over his shoulder as gently as possible. He
headed out the door, and into the main room. Everyone stopped talking and
stared at him as he passed. He kept his eyes straight ahead and went out to
the parking lot where Bell was waiting. Her laid her in the backseat, then
crouched down beside her. "Go!" he yelled. Bell tore out of the parking lot,
attaching the small siren to the top of his car.
They pulled up at the hospital and ran through the entrance. Dr. Caulfield
met them there. "Wick! Bell! What's wrong with Ryan?"
"She's been drinking and she has an extremely corrupt liver," Wick filled
in. Dr. Caulfield signaled for them to follow her into an awaiting room.
"We'll do some tests, and get back to you. Should I call you at home?" she
asked.
"No. We'll be right here," Bell spoke up. She nodded and smiled.
"I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait outside," she told them.
§*§*§*§*§*§*§*§*§*
"Wick?" Dr. Caulfield said gently, shaking his shoulder. He opened his
sleep filled eyes and gazed at her. "We got the liver test back," she told
him. He straightened up and looked over at Bell, who was already awake and
alert. "She's on the verge of developing cirrhosis of the liver. We can stop
it, but that means she can't take another drink. It could mean the
difference between life and death,"
****
