Fighting the Fire: A Warrior Fight Club Novel

by Kaye, Laura

  Next to Shayna, Coach Mack and Jayne sat in that silently restless way that came from waiting to know if someone you cared about was going to be okay.

  Dani got up and paced. Come on, she shouted inside her head. Come fucking tell us his vision is going to be okay already. She tugged her hair into a ponytail and tilted her head back, and then let the long strands go again, just to have something to do with her hands.

  “Dani?” Jayne said, rising from her seat. “Will you give me a call and let me know what’s going on? I should probably get home to check on Dad.”

  “Yeah, of course,” she said, rubbing Jayne’s arm. “We’ll make sure Sean knows you were here.”

  She nodded. “I’m praying for him.”

  “Thanks.” Dani hugged herself as Jayne said good-bye to the others. Despite the June heat, a chill had seeped into her bones while she’d been on the street with Sean. The cold air conditioning of the waiting room wasn’t helping, and she’d left her sweater in her car still parked back at Full Contact.

  After Jayne left, Mo got to his feet.

  “You heading out?” Dani asked.

  “Hell, no,” he said. “My ass is just getting tired of sitting.” That pronouncement gave rise to a round of chuckles.

  “Do they make the chairs uncomfortable on purpose?” Billy asked, shifting back in his seat. He pulled Shayna’s hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.

  Dani looked away.

  “Why don’t I go down to the cafeteria and get some drinks and snacks,” Tara said.

  “That’s a good idea,” Kristina said. “I’ll come with you to help carry things if you want.”

  Tara nodded. “Sure. Any special requests?”

  When the guys didn’t answer, Shayna said, “We could probably all use some sugar and caffeine. So whatever fits that bill.”

  “Want help?” Jesse asked, concern filling those dark eyes. Because of their navy backgrounds, he and Sean had gotten tight these past few months. Dani was glad that Sean had so many people here rooting for him.

  “We got it,” Tara said with a small smile. “But you’re welcome to tag along.”

  Jesse got to his feet. “Maybe if we leave, news will come faster.” Murmurs of agreement went around the circle, and then the three of them left.

  On a sigh, Mo stopped pacing and nailed her with a dark-eyed stare. “Lay it out for us, Dani. What’s going on right now?”

  She took a deep breath and met each expectant gaze in the room as she spoke. “They’re gonna be most concerned with evaluating the injury to his eye. They’ll check for fractures to the bony orbit, note any herniations to the parts of the eye, check the position of the lens, and look for bleeds and foreign bodies. They’ll also make sure the optic nerves weren’t impacted. And I would have to think he has a concussion, so they’ll give his whole hard head a once-over, too.”

  “Finally, one time him being hardheaded comes in handy,” Billy said, raking a hand through his dark blond hair.

  “Amen to that.” Mo managed a chuckle.

  Noah wiped his hands hard against his thighs. “I hate hospitals.”

  “Fuckin’ A,” Billy said. “No offense, Dani.”

  She chuffed out a laugh because she couldn’t blame them, especially as both Noah and Billy had spent considerable time in hospitals as patients. Billy for his burns, and Noah for the head injury that had reduced his hearing and sight on one side. Which, now that she thought of it, was probably why Tara seemed kinda tense, too. No one ended up in WFC that hadn’t been chewed up and spit back out by war. “None taken, believe me.”

  Just then, Tara, Jesse, and Kristina returned with two plastic bags of goodies—cans of soda, bags of chips and pretzels, and candy and granola bars. “Dinner is served,” Tara said.

  Dani grabbed a can of ginger ale hoping it might help settle her unsettled gut.

  “You should eat something, too,” Tara said gently. “It’s probably going to be a long night, right? It’ll be easier with some fuel on board. That goes for everyone.”

  “Yes, Mom,” Mo said.

  Tara smacked his arm. “Put something in that pie hole, Moses Griffin.” That got him to chuckle, and Dani thought that anything that could inject some humor was all to the good.

  Appreciating what Tara was trying to do, Dani grabbed a bag of pretzels.

  Another half hour passed before one of her colleagues poked her head into the waiting room. “Dani?”

  She was on her feet and across the room in an instant. “How is he?”

  Dr. Sarah Mitchell was one of Dani’s favorite docs. Short with white-blond hair and nearly violet eyes, she was young, aggressively advocated for her patients, and always listened to the nurses. “He’s doing good. Resting. Does he have any family here?”

  “No. None local,” Dani said.

  From right behind her, Billy cleared his throat. “His Dad lives in Philly and isn’t well. I wasn’t sure whether to try to get in touch with him until we knew more, especially since they’re not close.” Dani blinked. She didn’t know any of that.

  Dr. Mitchell nodded and looked to Dani. “He asked for you to be present when I went over everything.”

  Heart tripping into a sprint, Dani turned to the others. “I’ll fill you in as soon as I can.”

  Mo nodded. “Tell him we’re all here for him.”

  “I will,” Dani said, following the doc through the big double doors. It was a short walk to his exam room, where she found Sean propped up in bed wearing a blue hospital gown and an IV. An oblong eye shield covered his injured eye. “Hey, Sean.”

  “Hey, girl, hey,” he said in a sing-song that was totally not him. Jesus, he was high as a kite.

  “Enjoying some pain meds, I see,” she said, biting back her humor. It certainly made sense why he wanted her in here now.

  “Don’t I make this gown look good?”

  Dani laughed under her breath. “Sure, dude. Whatever you say.”

  Dr. Mitchell pulled up a stool. “So here’s the deal. About your eye injury. All the orbital structures appear intact. The cut along the orbital rim fortunately wasn’t deep, but it did require fifteen stitches.”

  The news made Dani feel like she could breathe again. The guy might drive her fucking nuts, but she’d never wish him harm. And she knew how much being a firefighter meant to him—the same thing being a nurse meant to her: helping people, making the world just a little better one day at a time, tipping the do-no-harm balance sheet a little in the right direction.

  The doctor continued. “The blurriness you’re experiencing is likely from the blunt force trauma caused by how you landed. The hope is that time will reduce the inflammation causing the blurriness.”

  Sean’s gaze swung to where Dani stood at the foot of his bed. “The hope…? D?”

  “It’s good news. No reason to worry yet.”

  “You’d tell me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Dr. Mitchell nodded. “Dani’s right. You also have a concussion and some bruising to your lungs, which is why you were having some difficulty breathing. Chest wall injuries can make it painful to breathe, laugh, cough, or lift things. You might also have pain or stiffness in your shoulders or back. All of which should clear up on its own in the next couple weeks.”

  Dani nodded, mentally ticking off things he was going to need or need to do after discharge. There would be prescriptions to fill, follow-up visits to attend, schedules to rearrange, and help he might need until the chest pain dissipated enough for him to be lifting or bending.

  “When can I go back to work?” Sean asked.

  “You’re a firefighter?” Dr. Mitchell asked. Dani mentally cringed—there was no way he was going to like her answer. When Sean nodded, the doc continued, “Assuming your vision and chest pain clears up, I would think you could get back to work in three or four weeks, depending on your pain level and recovery.”

  Sean blanched. “Four weeks?”

  “All things considered, you were
pretty lucky tonight, Mr. Riddick. But your injuries are going to take some time to heal.” Dr. Mitchell rose. “We’re going to keep you overnight to see how your eye progresses, so they’ll be moving you upstairs soon.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Sean managed as she left. He dropped his head back against the bed.

  Dani took up the doc’s seat on the stool. “I know it’s a lot, but it’s good news, Sean.”

  He blew out a breath that sent him into a coughing fit. He curled into himself trying to avoid the pain of it.

  “I’m going to get you another pillow. If you hug it when you need to cough, it makes it hurt less.” She put a hand on his knee. “Be right back, okay?”

  “Yeah,” he managed.

  She went to retrieve the pillow, and several of the other nurses stopped her along the way.

  “Hope your friend’s okay, Dani,” one said.

  “I’m praying for your friend,” said another.

  “I was sorry to hear about your friend, Dani,” a third called. Friend. In that moment, she had no problem thinking of Sean Riddick that way.

  “Thanks,” Dani said each time. She returned to his room to find his eyes closed, so she eased the pillow down next to him and returned to the waiting room to fill the others in and tell them they might as well head home since Sean was being admitted.

  Not that Dani was going anywhere. No, this time she wasn’t missing a chance to be there.

  Sometimes, atonement was all you had, even if you could never truly atone for the things you did wrong.

  * * *

  Fuuuuuck.

  That was Sean’s first thought upon waking to the gray light of morning spilling through the window of his hospital room. Every fucking thing hurt.

  His face. His head. His chest. His back. His hands.

  The mental calculus went on long enough that he decided he should catalog what didn’t hurt… His feet, thanks to the pair of shitkickers he’d been wearing. And his dick, thanks to God.

  Bleary eyed, he lifted his head, then blinked twice. Because the pain was making him hallucinate. Either that or he was actually seeing Daniela curled up asleep in a chair across the room. Her expression relaxed, her hair like a shawl of black silk all around her shoulders, her face so damn pretty.

  Why was she here?

  Swallowing made him feel like he’d spent the night walking through a desert, so he reached for the Styrofoam cup with a bendy straw sticking up through its lid that was sitting on the rolling table next to his bed. But the fucking bandages on his hand made it so that he couldn’t grab the damn thing. Worse, he knocked it over trying.

  “Damnit,” he said, instinctively lurching to catch it.

  Which, holy shit, was the wrooooong goddamned thing to do. He grunted against the pain, which threw him into a coughing fit that made his chest feel like he’d been recently body-slammed by a box truck. A scorching hot pain exploded through his lungs until he was clutching his pecs and balling up.

  A hand on his shoulder. Soothing words in his ear he couldn’t quite make out over the roar in his head. A pillow pushed into his arms that provided an easing counterpressure.

  “Jesus,” Sean finally rasped, struggling to breathe and trying to avoid breathing deeply all at the same time. “What the fuck.”

  “Chest wall injuries are a bitch,” Dani said, standing right behind him.

  He peered up at her with his one good eye. “No shit.”

  She smirked. “I won’t bother asking how you’re feeling.”

  Hugging the pillow, he slowly rolled back against the bed. The effort it took made him swallow hard, but his throat was so dry it hurt.

  Dani didn’t have to be asked. She brought the straw of the cup to his mouth. He moaned at the cool relief it brought. Even though, Jesus, he was fucking useless. And what that meant for his life—and his job—for the immediate future was a blow that had yet to fully kick his ass. But he knew it was going to. Sooner rather than later. Because idle time was not his friend.

  He drank so long that he was nearly panting by the time he let go of the straw and came up for air. “Thanks,” he managed.

  She nodded, then made quick work of wiping up the water he’d spilled. “Most of WFC was here until about two A.M. I finally had to kick everyone out of the hospital or else they’d have racked out in the waiting room. They all wanted you to know they were here though.”

  He studied her as she busied herself with the spill and straightening up his tray and looking over his flashing vitals on the machines that sat off to the side. “So why are you here?”

  Her gaze snapped to his, and he immediately regretted the question, especially as her usual guardedness replaced the softness he’d seen in her eyes just a moment before. She retreated a step from the edge of his bed and nailed him with a stare. “You asked me to stay.”

  Asshole.

  She hadn’t said that, but he heard it all the same. And he deserved it, too. Fuck, he hadn’t meant the question to sound the way it did. As if he didn’t want her there, when really he just couldn’t figure out why she was. Or why she’d agreed even if he’d asked. After all, before that truck took him for a spin, Sean had fuckin’ hurt her. “Ignore me. I’m an asshole.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You don’t say. I think I liked you better when you were high.”

  He searched his brain for what she was talking about but came up empty. A lot after the too-close image of that truck’s grill was a blank at the moment…

  Dani crossed her arms, putting up another line of defense. “Let’s just say you were channeling Ryan Gosling.”

  He frowned. “Gosling? You mean Reynolds? Was I was quoting ‘Deadpool’?” Shit, he couldn’t remember that at all.

  That actually got a little laugh out of her. “You can quote ‘Deadpool’?”

  Hell, yeah, he could. “If I ever decide to become a crime-fighting shit swizzler who rooms with a bunch of other little whiners at Neverland Mansion with some creepy, old, bald, Heaven’s Gate-looking motherfucker, on that day, I’ll send your shiny, happy ass a friend request.” He was breathing a little hard by the end of the line, but it still made him grin—well as close to a grin as he could manage given how he felt.

  Dani blinked. Then made a face. “That’s ‘Deadpool’?”

  Inside his head, Sean heard a record scratch. “Are you fuckin’ telling me you haven’t seen ‘Deadpool’?” Just that little bit of excitement had him grasping his chest. “Fuck, this sucks.”

  “I know,” she said. “And nope, I haven’t.”

  “Your ‘Deadpool’ inexperience is literally killing me. And unlike Wade, I won’t come back to life.”

  She frowned, confusion plain on her face. “You’re saying words, but I have no idea what they mean.”

  “Jesus Christmas. ‘Deadpool’ is a goddamn masterpiece.”

  Dani shook her head. “I don’t know what to tell ya.”

  “That is unsat, D. Unfuckingsat.”

  A nurse in pink scrubs breezed into the room. “Well, good morning, Mr. Riddick. You’re looking better today.” The older woman smiled at Daniela. “Hi, Dani, how are ya, hon?”

  “Hi, Patricia,” Dani said, moving toward the end of the bed as if to get out of the way.

  “I feel like I got hit by a truck,” Sean said, trying to smile at the lady.

  “A box truck, the way I hear it,” Patricia said, giving him a wink before she busied herself noting down his vitals. “Can you tell me where your pain is at on a scale of zero to ten, with ten being the worst in your life?”

  He glanced at Dani, then down at his hands again. “Eh, maybe a four.”

  “And how about when you cough?” Dani asked. Her voice was completely neutral, so why did he feel like she was challenging him?

  He frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe a five.”

  Her eyes called bullshit so damn loud.

  “Or a six. When will we know something about my eye?” He cared far more about that.

  “The
doc will be here in a while,” the nurse said. “He’ll be able to tell you more. In the meantime, I’ll get you some more pain medication.”

  “That’s okay. I can manage without it,” he said. The nurse gave him a look. And damnit if Dani wasn’t giving him the same look. But he didn’t want to rely on pain meds. He knew too many guys who’d had trouble getting off them once they started.

  It was Dani who spoke. “Sean, you need to stay ahead of the pain with meds for at least the first few days. You’re not feeling the full impact of that chest wall injury yet because you have meds in your system.”

  He sighed. Debated. But didn’t have the energy to fight. “Fine.”

  The nurse nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Thanks.” He blew out a frustrated breath as Patricia left the room, then reached for his cup, belatedly remembering his useless hands. “Fuck, I should’ve asked if these bandages could come off. Or are my paws stitched up, too?”

  Dani held his water cup again as she said, “No stitches, just lots of abrasions.”

  He released the straw and caught a drip of water on his chin with the gauze on the back of his hand. “Thanks. Can we look then? Not even being able to suck a straw on my own is a pain in the ass.”

  “It’s not the sucking that’s your problem. It’s the holding the cup.” She reached out a hand toward one of his.

  A slow grin tugged at his face. “You’re right. I’m good at the sucking.” He waggled his one eyebrow. He might be fucked up at the moment, but he never could pass up an opportunity for some good innuendo. And maybe given his current condition, she’d give him a little leeway on it.

  She blinked, then rolled her eyes, but the pink that bloomed on the warm tan skin of her face belied her effort at disdain. Dani liked to play that he didn’t affect her, but he damn well knew that he did. Just like she affected him. “Fuck sake,” Dani muttered under her breath.

  That made him chuckle. And that made him cough. He hugged the pillow to his chest with one arm.