Crash Cart Love

Chapter 1

Ava

The sound of sirens pierces the stillness of the emergency room. Another ambulance screeches to a halt outside the bay doors, the staccato hum of chaos brewing just beyond the glass. I check my watch—it’s barely 7:00 a.m. and my second coffee hasn’t even kicked in yet.

“Carter! We’ve got a bad one coming in,” Lori shouts from across the hall, motioning for me to grab a trauma kit.

I grab the cart and push it into the trauma bay, dodging an intern who looks like they’re about to drop a tray of vials. “What’s the status?” I call out as I slip on gloves.

“Motorcycle accident,” Lori says, reading off her clipboard as she hustles in behind me. “Male, mid-thirties, unconscious at the scene. Multiple fractures. BP’s all over the place.”

“Of course it is,” I mutter. Motorcycles. I swear, they’re like tickets to this ER. Every damn week, we get another rider who thought they were invincible until the pavement said otherwise.

The paramedics barrel through the doors, wheeling in a stretcher carrying a man who looks like he’s been through hell and back. Blood covers half his face, his leather jacket is torn, and the smell of burnt rubber clings to the air like regret.

“We found him wrapped around a guardrail,” one of the paramedics explains, his voice steady but grim. “Helmet saved his life, but he’s in bad shape. Left femur’s shattered, possible rib fractures, and a punctured lung.”

“Great,” I say, grabbing the chart as they transfer him to the bed. “Let’s get a line in and—”

“Ava?” Nyla’s voice cuts through the noise, high-pitched and nervous. I glance over to see her standing in the doorway, wide-eyed and pale. It’s her first week, and she looks like she might bolt.

“Nyla, this is your first big one. Stick close, but don’t freeze up,” I say, my tone firm but encouraging. “You’re here to learn. Now grab some saline and let’s go.”

She nods quickly and rushes to the supply cabinet, her hands trembling. I turn back to the patient, his breathing ragged under the oxygen mask.

“What’s his name?” I ask the paramedic.

“Liam Morgan,” he says. “Goes by ‘Steel’ with his biker crew.”

“Of course he does,” I mutter under my breath. I lean over him, checking his pupils. “Alright, Liam. Let’s see if you’re as tough as your nickname suggests.”

“Vitals crashing!” Lori shouts, her voice sharp.

“Damn it,” I curse, my hands flying to the trauma kit. “Nyla, get over here. I need you to hold this line while I intubate.”

She hesitates, her eyes darting between me and the blood pooling on the sheets. “I—I’ve never done this before.”

“Well, today’s your lucky day,” I snap, adjusting the tube. “Hold steady or this guy’s not going to make it.”

Nyla swallows hard and steps closer, her hands trembling but steady enough to hold the line. “Like this?”

“Perfect. Now don’t let go,” I say, sliding the tube into place. The monitor beeps, signaling stability—for now.

“Got a pulse,” Lori says, her relief palpable.

“Good. Get him prepped for imaging,” I say, pulling off my gloves. “Let’s figure out how many pieces we’re dealing with.”

As the team wheels Liam off to radiology, I finally take a breath. Nyla leans against the counter, her face pale but determined.

“Holy moly,” she whispers. “That was intense.”

“Welcome to trauma,” I say, handing her a water bottle. “You did good. Next time, maybe try breathing during the procedure.”

She laughs nervously, her hands still shaking. “Yeah, breathing sounds like a good idea.”

“Get used to it,” I say, patting her shoulder. “This is just the beginning.”

A few hours later, I’m charting Liam’s vitals when I hear a commotion down the hall. A tall, broad-shouldered man storms into the ER, his face set in a scowl that could peel paint.

“Where the hell is he?” the man growls, his eyes scanning the room.

I step in front of him, blocking his path. “Can I help you?”

“Liam Morgan,” he snaps. “I’m his brother.”

“And you are?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.

“Zeke,” he says, his tone daring me to challenge him. “Now take me to him.”

“Zeke,” I repeat, folding my arms. “I appreciate your concern, but this is a hospital. You can’t just barge in here like you own the place.”

He glares at me, his hands curling into fists. “Look, lady, my brother’s in here because someone ran him off the road. So forgive me if I’m not exactly calm right now.”

My irritation softens just a fraction. “I get it, but yelling at the staff isn’t going to help. He’s stable, but he’s got a long road ahead. If you want to see him, you’ll follow the rules.”

Zeke stares me down for a moment, then exhales sharply. “Fine. Take me to him.”

“Wait here,” I say, motioning for Lori to keep an eye on him as I head to Liam’s room.

Liam’s awake when I walk in, his face pale but his eyes sharp. “What’s with the noise?” he rasps.

“Your brother’s here Mr. Morgan,” I say, pulling a chair closer to his bed. “And he’s loud.”

“Sounds like Zeke,” Liam mutters, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

I glance at the chart, noting his improved vitals. “You’re lucky, you know. Another inch, and that guardrail would’ve cut through your chest.”

“Lucky’s not the word I’d use,” he says, his voice gravelly. “But thanks, Doc.”

“Nurse,” I correct, smirking. “Don’t give me more credit than I deserve.”

He chuckles softly, then winces. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

“Too late for that,” I reply, standing. “I’ll send Zeke in. Try not to yell at each other. If you disturb the other patients, I’ll have both your butts.”

“No promises,” he says, but there’s a flicker of gratitude in his eyes as I leave.

Zeke is still standing in the hall, his eyes following my every movement.

“Alright. You can go in--but!” I add quickly when he starts to move. “If you don’t behave, I will have security escort you out.”

He scoffs, stalking into the room and shutting the door behind him. I sigh and shake my head. Patients like Liam who bring in disgruntled visitors are always frustrating as hell.

Back at the station, Nyla grimaces. “That guy was scary,” she whispers.

“You get used to it,” I say, handing her another chart. “Just remember: the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

She grins. “You’re fearless, Ava.”

I shrug, glancing toward Liam’s room. “Someone’s got to be.”