Wild Hearts Series: Love In The Crossfire

The world is a blur of monochromatic white. Since daybreak, the snow has fallen with a relentless weight, swallowing the neighborhood whole. As I step out of my house, the familiar streets are unrecognizable. My eyes grow big at the sight of suffocating white. I can barely see past the edge of my own porch. ​I start walking, my breath hitching in the frozen air. The night market near my place is already dark—closed early, no doubt, because the weather has made business impossible. It’s miserable out here. At the back of my mind, a traitorous thought begins to grow: Maybe I shouldn't go to Saint Claire tonight. I’m only human. I’m tired, and the urge to just zone out and hide from the chill is overwhelming my brain while biting cold brushes on my skin. ​"Maybe I should call my station head and make some excuses," I mutter to the wind. I pause, as the idea of hugging my human size Teddy hangs in the air like a frozen mist. But then, I remember little Ana. She’ll be waiting in her room first thing in the morning, looking for me before her blood extraction. ​"You should go. Oh dear Camila, you really have to go!" I scold myself, biting the tip of my finger. "A few more days and you'll be off work. You'll have all the time in the world to slack off then. But not today.". I force my legs to move, watching the world go by in a blur of white. The cars, the park flowers, the playground—everything is buried. I look down at my boots, nodding with a small spark of pride. "Luckily, you're thick enough for this. Such a good buy, huh? Come on buddy, let's go save lives tonight." Then my phone beeps—a frantic notification and it's the only sound that lingers through the freezing night. Somehow, i figured it out right away that those incoming messages are from someone I know. Because no one in this world would literally flood my messaging app, like he does. It’s Raphael, and he is totally flooding my screen. ​"I told him to enjoy his vacation and stop checking up on me!" I hiss, annoyed but secretly warmed by the concern. ​ "Hey Camila! Did you bring your Taser? The night is not safe. I told you to get a ride to the hospital but I'm pretty sure that you're walking instead. Such a cheap stake! " I scoff out of disbelief as I continue to read his messages. "Did you find the new coat I have for you?I expect you to wear it. It’ll save you from the bittersweet cold." My eyes smile before it even reaches my lips. "Don't forget the umbrella. Take care and see you tomorrow." I laugh despite myself. "What the? He’s beginning to sound like his mother." My slender fingers fly across the screen, acting with a mind of their own. "I got this, Raphael! Enjoy your vacation. See you in the morning. Goodnight!" He replies instantly with a crying emoji. I smirk and check my watch. It’s past midnight, and my hospital internship starts at 2 AM. I need to get moving. I take the shortcut through the dark alley of Del Rio. The main street is closed for repairs, leaving me no choice but to navigate this creepy, narrow passage where the streetlights flicker like dying candles. The wind sends a fresh wave of chills down my spine, giving me goosebumps that have nothing to do with the temperature. Somewhere behind a garbage bin, stray cats shriek, intensifying the eerie vibe. ​"Why hasn't the city fixed these lights?" I murmur, my hazel eyes darting around. "What if someone grabs me here?" Then, my gaze locks onto something in the distance. A human figure is lying on the ground. But the snow around them isn't white—it's a shocking, vivid red. My heart leaps into my throat. There is a body sprawled in the street, and its lifeblood staining the ice. Is he dead? Did someone kill him? My instincts scream at me to run to the police, but my legs take a hesitant step backward instead. Suddenly, a low, pained groan breaks the silence. "He’s still alive," I breathe. The fear doesn't vanish, but my training takes over. I run to the body, my knees hitting the frozen ground with a thud. The man is face down, nearly lifeless. I carefully turn him over, cradling him in my arms to check his vitals. His face and hands are slick with blood. ​"Sir! Can you hear me?" I shout. I pull out my penlight, checking his pupils. They dilate—there’s a chance. I run my hands over his body, searching for the source of the trauma. Beneath his clothes, I find several small cuts, but on his left waist, there is a deep, jagged stab wound. The blood is pulsing out. I’ve seen this in the ER a dozen times, but out here in the dark, it’s different. I feel a moment of pure, suffocating confusion. "What do I do?" Then, I snap back. His life is in my hands. ​"Calm down, Camila. You got this." I convinced myself to stay focused, yet another thing is scaring me. A thought of danger lurking in the darkness makes my heart race like a horse. . "Did someone try to kill him?" My thoughts are arousing my emotions, nevertheless, I need to respond accordingly. I press my hand firmly over the wound to stop the flow while digging through my bag. Gauze, antiseptic, zip stitch—thank God I always carry supplies. I pull out my phone and dial the Saint Claire emergency line. ​"Hello! This is Doctor Fuentes of ER. I have a man here with multiple cuts and a stab wound to the left abdomen. Profuse bleeding, internal damage unclear. Have the medical team ready and send an ambulance to—" A cold, heavy hand clamps around my wrist. ​"No... no ho-hospital, please," he croaks, his voice a ragged whisper. "And no... police." He breaks into a heavy cough, and I freeze. "Hold on, the patient is awake!" I tell the operator, putting the call on hold. ​"Can you hear me? What's your name?" I ask, leaning close. ​"Lucas," he gasps.