Thwarting Cupid (15 page)

“I just got stabbed by cupid.” His hand opened and the ice dropped from it. He was so pale. And he swayed just a bit. It terrified Carissa.

“Hutch! No. Stay with me, Hutch!” She wanted to go to him, but wasn’t about to let the deranged bride get away. The bride struggled and screamed, but Carissa kept her pinned right where she was. “Somebody call the police!” Carissa demanded even though sirens could be heard racing up the street.

Black boots surrounded her and the bride, but she didn’t bother looking up to see their owners. Hands reached down to subdue the flailing bride. Carissa was too happy to let them take over. She sprang to Hutch’s side and knelt next to him. His arm was creating quite a puddle of blood on the sidewalk and he was making no effort to staunch the flow. He wasn’t even looking at it. Just staring off to the opposite side. Carissa wrapped both her hands around his arm and squeezed tight.

“You’re gonna be okay, Hutch.” She looked around. Most of the attention was still on the furious bride. Making matters worse, the bridesmaid had returned to the scene and was taunting the woman. It took several cops to keep the two of them separated.

“I need some help over here!” Carissa screamed. A couple cops looked her way then detached from the crowd.

“Seriously? You two again?” Officer Yancy knelt beside Carissa assessing the situation. Officer Stephens got on his radio and called for an ambulance.

“I don’t think we have time. He’s not responding to me.” Carissa forced herself to say even though her throat was swollen with tears.

“Let’s get ’em in the car. We’ll roll,” Officer Stephens said. He and Yancy got Hutch to his feet while Carissa kept the pressure on his arm. They hustled him to their squad car, then took off for the hospital.

Carissa’s hands were tiring, but she wasn’t about to remove them from Hutch’s wound.

“I’m sorry,” Hutch whispered. “Blood. Don’t like.”

“Shhh,” she comforted. “It’s okay.”

With lights flashing, Officer Yancy careened through the streets of Santa Monica. Officer Stephens put a Bluetooth on his ear.

“Hey Doc. We’re coming in hot with an injured witness. Can you–” He listened a moment. “You’re the best.”

He nodded to Yancy, who took the next corner on two wheels. Or at least that’s what it felt like to Carissa. She just kept pressure on Hutch’s wound and was thankful the officers seemed to be as concerned for him as she was. She bit her lip. On the flip side, that could be a very bad sign. Like they thought he wasn’t going to make it.

Yancy brought them in for a landing in the hospital’s ambulance bay. A woman wearing a white coat and several people in scrubs were standing by waiting with a gurney. In a blur of activity, they got Hutch out of the car and wheeled him inside. Carissa stood by the police car watching him disappear. Now that he was in professional hands, hers started to shake. The adrenaline had worn off and she was spent.

Officer Stephens gently touched her elbow. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She nodded and followed him inside, happy for someone else to take charge. She was too worried about Hutch to do much thinking on her own.

Almost on autopilot, she went into the bathroom Officer Stephens led her to. Her hands were coated in blood. Hutch’s blood. Shaking, she turned on the water and scrubbed it away. She couldn’t get it off fast enough. If she could just get rid of it, it would be like it never happened. He’d be fine and this whole thing would just be a nightmare and she could wake up. That was her story and she was sticking to it.

A knock on the door startled her.

“Y-yes?”

“Ms. Langston? Are you okay in there?” Officer Stephens. It wasn’t a dream. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was a hot mess. Her cheeks had tear stains on them. She hadn’t even remembered crying. But it was the smear of blood on her chin that got her moving again.

She turned the water back on and splashed her face before scrubbing at the stain.

“Ms. Langston?”

“I’ll be out in a moment,” Carissa called with a trembling voice that sounded nothing like her. She pulled a stack of paper towels from the machine and dried her face, hands and arms. Much better. She still had blood stains on her clothes, but there wasn’t a lot she could do about that now. She needed to get herself together. Carissa took a deep breath and left the restroom.

Officer Stephens was talking to the woman who’d met them at the entrance. Their conversation ceased when Carissa joined them. The officer introduced the woman as Dr. Taylor and her heart almost stopped.

“Oh God. Is he…”

The woman smiled. “Your friend just needs a few stitches and he’ll be fine. Physically.”

The air rushed out of Carissa’s lungs. Hutch was going to be fine.

“What’s concerning us is that he keeps mumbling about being stabbed by cupid. We’re trying to determine if he hit his head or if the hallucination is a result of the blood loss. We may need to do an MRI.”

Carissa couldn’t help it. She started laughing. No wonder the doctor thought he was nuts. The whole thing was ridiculous. Both the doctor and the officer were starting to look at her like she was the one who needed the MRI. She had to get herself under control.

“No, no. That’s what happened. The woman was wielding one of the little cupids from the ice sculpture like a weapon. She was chasing the blonde with it.”

“I see.” Dr. Taylor nodded and looked to Officer Stephens. “And the burns on his face? How’d did that happen?”

“Fire breather,” Officer Stephens said with a shrug.

“Are you toying with me?” the woman asked glaring at the officer.

He held up his hands in surrender. “Happened earlier this afternoon.”

“We’ve had a strange day,” Carissa added.

Dr. Taylor still looked like she thought someone was punking her.

“Think how I feel,” Officer Stephens chimed in. “I have to file reports on all three of these incidents.”

“Three incidents?”

“Yeah. We had a run-in with a deodorant thief just before the pissed-off bride happened.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Officer Stephens spoke up, “Oh, how I wish we were. Although, Gates and Jordan booked the fire breather so they’ll be the ones catching heat on that one. No pun intended.”

The doctor rubbed her eyes. “Maybe I’m the one who needs the MRI.”

“Can I stay with Hutch while you get him patched up?” Carissa surprised herself by asking. “He’s a little squeamish around blood.”

The doctor tossed up her hands in surrender. “You look like family to me. Come on.” She escorted Carissa down the hall a little bit before calling over her shoulder to Officer Stephens. “You, too. I’m guessing you still need to get statements and I’m dying to hear this.”

* * * *

Quincy paced the tiny examination area and was glad, for a change, that he was non-corporeal. Since the space was occupied with the usual hospital equipment of a bed, stool, IV pole, countertop and other various tools of the medical trade, it was a tight fit for Carissa and James who were squeezed in with Dr. Taylor, Officer Stephens and Officer Yancy. Still, the small space wasn’t reason enough for James to be sitting on the edge of the bed with Carissa standing between his legs and his good arm around her. Granted, she was serving to block the view of his injured arm, on which the doctor had a firm hold and was adding stitches. Still, they were looking a little too cozy for Quincy’s liking.

Maybe if he’d gotten there sooner, he could’ve put the brakes on again. He’d stayed behind on Main Street and gave the CoC, Cupid on Case, a good talking too. The idiot should’ve been pulled from the field centuries ago, but somehow he’d managed to remain on the job. And screwing up folk’s lives.

The whole incident never would’ve happened if the idiot hadn’t nicked the bridesmaid when shooting the bride and groom with his arrow. So now, each woman felt the same man belonged to her and her alone. Quincy had seen time and time again how lethal love could be. Not only to the couple involved, but to the people around them. Until the CoC got the situation under control, things would just go from bad to worse.

Officer Stephens closed his notebook and stuffed it in his pocket. He watched the doctor work over her shoulder. Quincy looked closer. Were his ears a little red? The officer was blushing. “I think we’ve got everything we need. That was some pretty nasty business.”

The doctor tied off the last stitch. “I’ll say. I just don’t get what comes over people. It’s like they fall in love and lose their minds.”

Quincy raised an eyebrow her direction. So says the woman who’s been running from love for years. Not all couples lose their minds. In fact, the most solid ones gain clarity of thought. He pulled an arrow from his quiver and moved into position.

“Is that it?” Carissa asked. “You’re finished?”

The doctor nodded and began cleaning up her tray. “That’s it. Forty-eight stitches. Most important, no more blood.”

James loosened his hold on Carissa’s waist and glanced toward the doctor. “You promise?”

“I promise. You’re all set.”

James eased away from Carissa to look at his repaired arm. He still appeared a bit queasy, but for the most part he was okay. He smiled at Carissa. “Thanks.” He turned to the doctor. “And thank you, too.” Quincy rolled his eyes.

The doctor smiled back. “It’s been…interesting.”

Quincy frowned when Carissa didn’t move away from James the way he expected. Instead, she remained close enough to leave her arms draped over his shoulders while she mused, “I should go find an ATM so we can catch a cab home. Wait here for me?”

Officer Yancy spoke up. “Our tour is almost over and we’re not risking any more incidents out of you two tonight. We’ll give you a lift.”

“Are you sure? We don’t want to be any trouble.”

Officer Yancy shook his head. “That’s hilarious coming from you. We’re sure. The moment Doc here gives us the all clear, we’ll drive you home.”

Dr. Taylor reached for her prescription pad and upset the tray she’d just straightened up. It clattered to the floor startling them all.

“Sorry. Not used to having this many people in here at once.” She knelt to pick everything up. Officer Stephens bent to help her. When they stood again, Quincy grinned and let his arrow fly. It entered through the officer’s back, sliced through his heart, out his chest and into hers where it lodged in her heart. Bullseye! The two stood frozen a moment and stared in one another’s eyes. When they moved, the arrow disintegrated into a shower of sparks before fading away. Excellent. Yet another good match made. Despite running around like he’d been, he’d had a pretty productive day. First, Yancy and that sassy coupon woman, now his partner and the doctor. Miss C would be pleased. The matches would also give him a plausible reason for why he’d been hanging around Carissa, but not matching her.

He looked at her where she still stood with James’s arm around her. They both listened with an intense concentration while the doctor got herself together and explained how James was supposed to take care of his arm. She scribbled on her prescription pad, tore off the page and handed it to Carissa.

“I’ll give you some sample painkillers to get through the night. You can get that filled tomorrow.” She scribbled another prescription. “This one is for the burns. They already look to be healing well, but this will aid the process.”

“Thank you.” Carissa tucked the papers into her bra since the dress she wore had no pockets, then helped James stand and kept an arm around his waist. Officer Yancy led them from the tiny room. Officer Stephens hung back with the doctor a bit.

“I owe you, Doc. How about I buy you a cup of coffee when your shift is over?”

She smiled. “Toss in some bacon and eggs and you’ve got a deal.”

“Done. I’ll meet you back here at seven.”

They shared a lingering smile before heading off in opposite directions. Quincy loved his job.

Chapter 15

Hutch tugged at the bowtie he was sure would choke him at any moment and sucked in a deep breath before letting the most hateful piece of wardrobe known to mankind settle back into place under his Adam's apple. Why was he nervous? He had no reason for butterflies to be assaulting his stomach quite the way they were. And then he saw her. The bride.

Stunning, in a white gown with something he’d overheard her call an empire waist, she smiled at him. And just like that, the butterflies and bowtie were forgotten. Instead he had a new concern to contend with; the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. Her hair was pinned high on her head so it didn’t bounce around her shoulders when she tipped her head to the side with a scolding look.

“Daaad. You promised not to cry.” She hiked up the bottom of her humongous skirt and marched toward him. “If you cry, then I’ll cry and four hours of makeup will be completely ruined. You don’t want that now do you?”

Hutch smiled through his tears. “That’s why I’m crying. You have any idea how much that makeup lady cost?” He pulled Christina into a careful hug, mindful of all the warnings issued both by her and Carissa ever since this dress had invaded his peaceful existence. “Look at you. There was nothing she could’ve done to improve upon perfection anyway.”