Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

Another Chance	By : ipaws4animals Category: Individual Celebrities > Gerard Butler Views: 1235 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Gerard Butler. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Another Chance
- 2-Chapter Two
- 1
- 2
Chapter One, Currituck County, North Carolina, Present Day
Conor MacTavish watched the rain pouring down his windshield. Traffic on the bridge from Hatteras to Manteo had come to a standstill. That was typical for tourist season. Roanoke Island and it's surrounding counties were known for their beach front properties, nurmerous lighthouses and The Lost Colony. At the pace the traffic was moving, he would never make it to the fundraising dinner for the hospital, not that he was complaining. As Conor had left the hospital that evening, Will Basnight, Chief of Staff, had mentioned that his daughter, Angelica, would be there.

It had taken all of Conor's willpower not to grimace. Ever since he had moved here from Scotland, four years ago, the Basnights had been trying to play matchmaker. As far as Conor was concerned, it would have been a match made in hell. The end of their two month relationship proved that. Now the Basnights and Angelica couldn't understand that Conor wasn't interested. Tonight was going to be pure hell. The weather was a bad omen.

Traffic was bumper to bumper, car horns were blaring in both directions and some people had even turned their vehicles completely off. Nothing was going to move this traffic except a small miracle. Who knows how long they would be stuck there.

Conor grinned triumphantly. He'd already paid for his ticket and now he wouldn't have to face Angelica. Someone up there was smiling down on him.

Trying to make his 6'3 frame more comfortable, Conor pushed his seat as far back as it would go. Headlights from the oncoming lane blinded him temporarily. The cars were moving so fast, Conor was glad the four lanes were separated by concrete dividers.

As he watched in horror one car broke free, careened off the divider and sailed through the air. Snapping his seatbelt open, he dived into the passenger seat. Everything was silent except for the rain, then came an explosion of metal and glass.

Conor sat up, looking for damage. His car was safe, but the car behind him was a wreck. He shoved his shoulder against the passenger door, jumped out and headed for the wreackage. Conor saw other people doing the same. Luckily, one was a patroleman from the opposite lane, who jumped the divider and ran forward.

Turning to the man, Conor pointed to his car. "Look in my car. There's a medical bag. Hurry."

The young officer did as he was told, thankful that a doctor was already on the scene.

Staring at the tangled wreckage, Conor silently prayed that someone would survive. The first car, a Colt, had plowed into the windshield of a second vehicle, an SUV.

Making his way to the Colt, Conor yanked open the door and was nearly knocked on his ass by the overpowering stench of alcohol and marijuana. The blank stare of the driver confirmed what Conor already knew. For the sake of duty, he felt for a pulse. Nothing.

Jumping down, he made his way to the driver side of the SUV. Forcing it open, he saw a woman behind the wheel. Her face, neck, arms and chest had been sliced by shards of glass and metal. She was very lucky the Colt's bumper hadn't decapitated her. Conor felt for a pulse and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt one.

The woman's eyes fluttered open and tried to focus on him. He saw awareness in the pale green eyes, as she grabbed his hand, wrapping her bloody fingers around it.
"You." She whispered, so he had to lean forward. "God, how I've missed you, a luaidh." She lay her head back against the seat and drifted into unconsciousness, a smile on her lips.

Conor stared at the warm hand in his. Warmth radiated up his arm, that even the darkest weather couldn't diminish. Did he know her? He racked his brain trying to recall, but no memories came. He was shocked when she had called him 'a luaidh'. Not many Americans knew Scotch Gaelic. He wondered where and who she had learned it from. Her pronunciation had been perfect. It never registered in his brain until later that she had called him 'my love'.

The policeman chose that moment to bring his medical bag. "Here you go, doc."

"Thank you." Conor glanced at the man, noticing the shock on his face. "She's going ta be okay." He said this as he glanced at the officer, not wanting him to say anything to the contrary. "The other driver didn't make it."

The officer shook his head in sadness. "The paramedics are on their way, but it may take a while because of the weather and the traffic."

"Some kisses will hold tagether until the...."

"Doc, kisses? Is that some Scottish term for bandaids?"

Laughing, Conor shook his head. "No, butterfly kisses...stitches." Turning back to the woman, he tried to remove his hand from her grasp, but her hold tightened. Placing his other hand over theirs, he leaned closer. "I'm going ta help ya, lass. I won't leave."

"Yes, you will. You always do. Your never there when I need you the most." She sighed, as her hand slipped free of his.

"Not this time." Conor didn't know who she was mistaking him for, but she needed to have faith in him to help her.

Pulling paper off the stitches, Conor applied them to the many cuts, holding the skin together. Until she was in the hospital, it was hard for him to tell the extent of her injuries. He was vaguely aware of the officer directing traffic, of the rain pounding on him, but his attention was focused on the woman. The world ceased to exsist around the two of them.

Everytime he closed his eyes, he could see her green eyes staring at him. It was unnerving, but she knew him, trusted him. But he would swear on a stack of bibles that he had never met her in his life. And though he was modest about his ability as a doctor, Conor knew he was the only person who could save her.

Another police car pulled up and the driver got out and approached the SUV.

"How she doing, doc?"

"Fine, she's going ta be fine."

"Good. The paramedics are almost here."

Conor looked at the woman to check his handiwork, pushing her blood-matted, dark brown hair off of her forehead. He felt a lump just above the hairline. Maybe a concussion. That would explain her confusion and the present unconsciousness. Until they got to the hospital, there was little more he could do for her.

Spotting her purse on the passenger seat, Conor leaned across the woman and picked it up. Digging inside he found her wallet with her driver's license. It said her name was Madeleine Kinsey, age 32, height 5'10, weight one-thirty. In her photo, she was smiling. Her long hair pulled into a ponytail, that cascaded down her back. The red heart in the left hand corner indicated that she was an organ donor.

Conor grimaced. He wouldn't let it come to that. Searching through the contents of her purse once more, he found a passport and a plane ticket with her itinerary inside.

She had been on her way to the local airport in Manteo, to catch a chartered flight to Greenville, NC. From there, she would take a plane to Glasgow, Scotland. The hometown where his mother still lived. If she was meeting anyone at the Manteo airport, they would be worried.

Waving to one of the officers to come over, he pressed her plane ticket into his hand. "Better call tha airport and tell em what happened. They can talk ta anyone waiting for her. Where is that ambulance?"

"I can see the lights from here. They're on the way."

Conor looked in the direction that the officer pointed. Red lights were flashing as the ambulance drove along the median strip. Turning back to Madeleine, he felt for her pulse, which was thready. They were running out of time.

"Hang on, Madeleine." He didn't care what her license said, her name didn't feel right. "Maddie, hang on, lass."

Was it his imagination or did she just squeeze his hand in response?

Finally, the ambulance stopped in front of the cars. Conor, reluctant to let go of Maddie's hand, moved out of the way, as he watched the rescue team use the Jaws of Life to get her out of the car. Then the paramedics stepped up and gently placed her on the stretcher.

"Doc, you coming?" one asked.

The officer gathered Maddie's possessions and turned to the Scot. "Someone will get your car to you. Give me your keys."

Conor crawled into the back of the ambulance beside Maddie. "Call ahead ta the hospital and tell them I'll need x-rays, blood typing and a surgical team."

"Will do." The paramedic radioed the instructions ahead.
Everything was in place when the ambulance reached the ER doors. The staff took Maddie Kinsey away to prepare her for surgery, x-ray for broken bones, and run any blood work. After that, it would be up to Conor and he wouldn't be of any use to anyone if he didn't calm down.

He took the time to down a cup of water before heading to scrub up. When he arrived, Dr. Nathan Etheridge, Conor's friend and colleague, was already changing from his street clothes into scrubs. His blond hair was matted with rain and his blue eyes sparkled in merriment as he looked at Conor.

"I didn't realize this was a formal occasion or I would have dressed better."

Conor wasn't in the mood to banter with Nathan, who let it go. The Scot was obviously tense from the way he threw his wet suit into the bottom of his locker and slammed the door.

"I was on my way home, then thought I'd lend a hand when I heard you were bringing her in. She's really busted up. Good thing you were there. Took nearly an hour for the paramedics to arrive. Or so I heard."

"An hour? I hadn't realized it was tha long. The other guy died on impact. I was surprised she was still alive. She was on her way to the airport for a later flight to Scotland."

Nathan looked up. "Scotland? What a coincidence. Glasgow?"

"Yeah."

"I'm surprised she was conscious during that time."

"No, I found her I.D., passport and plane tickets in her pocketbook."

"So, she never said anything?"

"Why?"

Nathan shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I just wondered if she said anything about medical conditions?"

Conor took a deep breath. "She didn't. She did mistake me for someone else."

"Is that why your so rattled?"

That had to be it. He was spooked. Maddie Kinsey didn't just think he was someone else, she knew him, and Conor couldn't figure out how.

"I guess so."

Nathan glanced at him sharply. "You going be okay to do this?"

Maddie was depending on him and he couldn't let her down. It was up to him to save her.

"Yeah, let's just get it over with."

They pushed into the operating room and looked down at the pale woman. Blood loss and shock made her as white as the sheets. The anesthesiologist sat near her head, just finishing up.

"She out?" Conor looked at her face, wondering where to start.

"Just about."

"Let me know when, Leo. Anything else?"

"No broken bones, Dr. Mac," the nurse responded. "No drugs or alcohol. She did test positive for some prescription drugs. Diclofenac, Bupropion, Paroxetine and Lorazepam. And there are more lacerations on her torso."

"Depression and anxiety drugs?" Conor pondered those for a moment. "Shouldn't be a problem. I'll need to know if she has a psychiatrist already. Let's start with her torso first."

Conor lifted the sheet and blanched. A deep gash followed the curve of her right breast. From the position of the other vehicle, there had been no way for him to check for more injuries. He should have checked her in the ambulance.

"Good to go, Doc."

"Okay, let's get to work."
Maddie Kinsey felt herself slipping into that dark place again. She had been there once before in this lifetime, when she'd been hospitalized as a teenager. Her wrists now bore the scars from the blood loss.

Slowly she went back to that place again. The place where she died over and over again.
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Another Chance