by Fields, MJ
He leans back. “Don’t give a damn right now. I’m just glad it still works.”
I sit down and grab his hand, opening it and taking the pill he’s still holding, “This is an antibiotic. How do you expect to fight the infection if you don’t take the pill?”
“Wasn’t gonna take something not knowing what it was.”
“This is a hospital, Lieutenant—”
“One of my best friends died, the man you have a child with. Jaxson went down. I went down. Shadows is MIA, a POW, or dead, Doc. There are politics involved, and we know it, just can’t prove it. I don’t trust any of these motherfuckers.”
“I understand, Tanner, and that’s why getting you back Stateside and into my hospital is imperative.”
“Nothing like waking up and not knowing who the fuck the enemy is. I wanna be here when he gets here.”
“Tanner—”
“It’s non-negotiable.”
“Then you’re going to lose that leg and possibly your life.”
“Tell me, Doc, in your expert opinion, would those pills have stopped that?”
I uncover his leg, “The red lines and the yellow and green coloring by the wound site would indicate no. But it would help stop the infection from spreading and possibly save your life.”
“And what kind of life would I have without a fucking leg?” he huffs.
“You’d have the life Shadows risked his own to save.”
“That’s not fucking fair,” he snaps.
“It may not be fair, but it’s reality. How do you think Shadows is going to feel when he gets here and you’re dead because—”
“You trust ’em, Doc?”
I shake my head. “But I trust myself, and I think you do, too.”
9
Helpless
Titan
I watch her get up and walk to the door. She’s in yoga pants, and I will blame the way they hug her ass on the fact that I just popped wood. I wasn’t joking when I said I was happy it still works.
They cut my leg off, and I’m no longer an officer or a pilot. The game plan for when Irons becomes a politician will not be in play either. How the hell am I going to chase down a bad guy with one fucking leg? I’m not.
Aside from that, fucking is what I like best in life, and who the fuck is going to come home with a one-legged man for a night of hot sex and leave without strings?
It’s going to be like she said—pity pussy—and it’s going to be from women who need to feel needed. That works for some, but it’s not my thing. I won’t have my choice of women like I used to have, able to bring them home to fuck for one night. And definitely no one like Doc.
She grabs a small suitcase on wheels and sets it on the end of the bed. When she opens it, it looks like she has a small pharmacy inside.
As she pulls out two big pill bottles and a bag of fluid, I see her smirk.
“Nothing funny about any of this, Doc.”
“You are what I find amusing. A man who won’t take a pill but will let someone shove a tube into their penis? We both know how much you care about that thing.”
“Can’t stay awake if I’m exhausted, and really don’t want to sit in piss.”
“You’ve been awake for two days?”
“You work in a hospital; tell me that’s unusual. You people want your patients to rest, yet you come in the room every fifteen minutes to poke, prod, and tell us to sleep. Not that far-fetched. Plus, from what I understand, I was in surgery for about eight hours, and I would guess my flight here took about twelve hours, so I’ve slept plenty.” I pause when she pulls out a sterile bag with needles. “I hate needles.”
“I know. Apparently, that’s why you didn’t become a doctor.”
“You’ve been checking up on me, too, then, huh?”
“No. Will told me all about the men he believed were the best he’d ever met.”
She ties a rubber band around my arm and looks for a vein. “This is an antibiotic and—”
“You can’t do that,” the nurse tries to stop her.
“She can,” I tell her, looking into Laurie’s eyes. “And you can turn around, walk out, and pretend you didn’t see shit, Sergeant.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” she huffs.
“Oh, one more thing,” Laurie says. “I need a wheelchair and directions in where to take him to find the girl he brought in.”
“You two are dead set on me getting fired.”
“No, just need directions,” I say, still looking in Laurie’s eyes as she slides the needle into a vein. “Fuck.”
“It was that easy.” She tapes the IV in place.
The nurse with no bedside manner laughs. “You’re kidding me. That big, old soldier is afraid of needles?”
Doc smiles at me. “He’s a sailor.”
I smile back, and she winks before turning around.
“Where’s his chart?”
“Here.” The nurse hands it to her.
“Did you verify my badge?”
“I did. A Cdr. Smith has confirmed and given authorization for you to use the facility and take over primary care of our patient.”
“Feel free to take credit for getting him hooked up on an IV line. Could we get that wheelchair and directions, please?”
“Dr. O’Neil, anyone ever tell you that you’re—”
“A bitch, yes. They lived, and so will you. I find it amusing when people mistake persistence for bitchiness. So, how about that wheelchair?”
And I’m getting hard again.
“I wasn’t going to say bitch. I was going to say a miracle worker.”
“Let me tell you something that I learned a long time ago. Being military doesn’t give you an excuse to act like an asshole, even when surrounded by them.” She throws her thumb over her shoulder at me. “They act like this when they are at their weakest, a position they are not prone nor proud to be in. Underneath it all, they are just as human as civilians. We’re just used to seeing them in uniform, which makes us believe they have super powers.
“Being in the medical field, even as a United States military personnel, I’ve also learned you wear white, which leads people to believe you’re there to help, comfort, and give kindness. That’s the uniform I wear every day and the one you wear now. We represent the most important part of healthcare—the care.”
I’m not sure how it is she just reamed the nurse a new asshole, schooled her, and quite possibly evoked hope, but she did.
Before the nurse has a chance to reply, Laurie turns to me and asks, “How old was the girl?”
“Didn’t get an ID, Doc. But I’d guess anywhere between four and eight.”
“Between Calee and Lily’s age?”
“Yeah.”
“Is there a pediatric floor here?” she asks the nurse.
“My guess is she’ll be on the fourth floor, west wing, but you didn’t hear that from me.”
“Thank you for your help,” Doc responds before the nurse leaves us.
When she looks back at me, her eyes skim down my body.
“Stop eyeballing my dick, Doc.”
“Tell it to stop pointing at me.”
I should be fucking exhausted. Scratch that, I am exhausted, and the pain is an eleven on the one to ten scale. But as any adrenaline junkie will tell you, when you’re hyped up on something bigger than you, pain means shit.
As Doc walks into the bathroom, I lie back down and close my eyes, wondering if this is what a person who’s dying feels like. If they feel like every wrong has to be righted before they can rest. Because I know damn well, as soon as Shadows gets home and I have answers about that little one, I’m going to make a decision that is best for me, and no one is going to be happy about it. But I will not live waiting to die. And me living without a leg, well, that feels a lot like dying to me.
“You asleep?”
“No.”
“I’d love for you to take some pain meds and rest. It’s important. I know—”
�
��I need to find that girl. Something is telling me she …” I trail off because I don’t want to say she needs me or needs something, but that’s exactly what it feels like.
“You interrupt me, and then stop speaking mid-sentence.”
I open my eyes.
“Our communication needs to be worked on in order for this to be effective, Lieutenant.”
“Just need to see her, that’s all.”
“Then you’re going to have to lean on me a bit.” She puts her arm behind me and helps me sit up. “Don’t be a stubborn ass, Tanner. Sometimes even the strongest of us need a little help.”
And help she does. She moves the wheelchair, swings my leg around to the side of the bed, puts my arm around her shoulders, wraps hers around my waist, and lifts, keeping my ass from tumbling over. When I’m in the seat, she puts my feet on the metal footrests.
When she takes too long, I ask, “Everything okay down there?”
“You want me to be honest?”
“Always.”
“You’re left foot is turning green. You and I are going to go see if that little girl is here, you’re going to make your peace with her, and then you need to get serious about getting on the plane and heading back to my hospital where I will do everything humanly possible to save as much of your leg as I can. But this, Tanner Jacob Titan, is not okay, nor will it ever be if we don’t take care of it ASAP.”
“You wanna cut my leg off, Doc?”
“No.” She moves around the wheelchair and grabs the IV bag, attaching it to the post on the chair before releasing the brakes on the wheels. She begins to push me as she says, “But I’ll be damned if I let you die.”
“That’s not up to you.”
“I’m sure your healthcare proxies will fight like hell against you to make it so.” She doesn’t look down at me, just pushes on, but the look on her face … I’ll never forget it.
As we walk past the bed, I see her grab my chart and put it in what I assume is the pocket behind the chair as she pushes me out the door, down the hall, and past the nurses’ station, where they all whisper. When we reach the elevator banks, she leans forward, brushing against me as she hits the down arrow. Once inside the elevator, she presses the button for the fourth floor, turns me around, and then takes out the chart.
“You lost enough blood that you should have died. You didn’t.”
It doesn’t take a fucking genius to realize immediately where she’s going with this. She’s going to tell me all the reasons there is that I should fight.
Luckily, the door opens. Unfortunately, I hear a girl screaming.
“Doc—”
“On it.” She pushes me into the hall where I see three men trying to restrain the little fighter. “Is that her?”
“I’m guessing yes. Get me to her. Hopefully, she will consider me a familiar face.”
When they begin to restrain her, I see my biggest fear staring back at me. She lost half her arm.
“Get me there, Doc.”
When she starts running toward the three men, I yell, “Doc, now!”
I watch her drop to the ground and slide into them like they’re home plate on a baseball diamond, taking them all out, but she manages to catch the girl.
In slow motion, I see her hold the little one in her arms as she slides across the floor, stopping when her back hits the wall.
The male nurses start to grab her when I yell, “Stand down! Stand fucking down!”
Holding the girl’s head to her chest, hiding her face and shielding her protectively in her arms, she kicks at them, while I use every bit of my strength to wheel my sorry ass over to them when I realize they aren’t fucking listening to me.
I scream, “That’s a fucking order!”
When my chair hits one of them, it begins to tip. I throw myself out of it, knocking one of them into another before landing on the floor. Then I use my remaining strength to pull myself next to her.
When the men get back on their feet, I yell, “I am Lieutenant Tanner Titan of the United States Navy, and I order you to stand the fuck down!” When they stop, I look to my right. “You okay?”
Doc’s shaking, holding the girl, rocking a bit and whispering, “It’s gonna be okay.”
The girl turns her head toward me, lips quivering, terror in her big brown eyes. She sobs, “American.”
I nod, happiness filling my heart that she recognizes me. “Yeah, little one.”
Then she whimpers, “Help.”
Something strong inside pushes me to reach over, pull Laurie into my arms, and rub the little one’s back.
Crying, she points to her arm that is now half gone.
“It’s going to be okay, little one. It’s going to be okay.”
When she reaches up and touches my cheek, I’m a bit confused, until she wipes away a tear I didn’t even realize had fallen. I haven’t cried since I was a kid. Not even when Will died.
When Laurie grabs the side of my head and pulls me into her shoulder, and the little one rests her head against her chest, I try but fail to make myself man up.
The little one’s big, soft brown eyes stare into mine while she rubs the stubble on my face, whispering, “Help me.”
When security bursts out of the elevator, Laurie pushes the girl into my lap and stands up. “You leave her the hell alone!”
“Doc,” I try to get her attention, but she ignores me.
“This child just had an arm amputated and is being manhandled by these three men! Unacceptable!”
“She was trying to run. We were doing our job,” one of them snaps at her.
I look at them thunderously and bite out, “You watch your fucking tone with her, Sergeant.”
Laurie looks around the floor. “Where are the other kids? The other patients? A damn female nurse or a doctor!”
“This is an Army hospital!” another yells.
“This is a hospital that cares for military personnel. It’s not just Army, soldier. It’s also run by the DOD and cares for the families of all personnel!”
As security approaches her, she holds up her badge. “I have clearance! You touch me and I will—”
“I will rip your fucking arms off and beat you with them!”
She whips her head around. “Titan!”
Realizing what I had just said, I say, “I apologize.”
The elevator opens again and a man in uniform with five stars on his chest walks toward us. “What in the hell seems to be the issue up here?”
“The issue is this little girl is thousands of miles from home, millions from anything recognizable, and these men are treating her like she just landed in GTMO!” Laurie yells at him.
“Don’t know who in the hell you think you are, ma’am, but she’s not a prisoner, and you’d do well to not talk out of your ass about something you know shit about.”
“With all due respect, sir, watch your goddamn tone with her,” I hiss.
“I’m Dr. Laurie O’Neil, and I don’t speak out of my ass. I lived in Cuba while my Marine father was stationed there, working on a special assignment for JTF. How much time did you spend there?”
I can’t help the smile from trying to creep up. When the little one shifts on my lap, I look down at her and, for the first time ever, see her lips curl up.
“I’m going to assume this is a girl power thing?”
“Girl,” the little one repeats.
I nod and point at her. “Girl.” Then I point at Laurie. “Girl.”
She points to me. “American.”
“Boy. American boy.” I point at Laurie. “American girl.” Then I point to her. “Syrian girl.”
She looks confused, which is understandable.
I pull her head to my shoulder. “Sleep.”
She closes her eyes as she rubs my cheek.
I close mine and lean back against the wall, fucking exhausted.
10
Finally Sleeping
Laurie
The next twelve hours were exha
usting, but now Tanner is sleeping and so is the little girl.
They slept against the wall while I dealt with Capt. Straker. I threatened to go to the press if she wasn’t allowed a female nurse, and I requested an interpreter.
When she and Titan woke up, she was brought to him because she was most comfortable with him.
When I reattached Tanner’s IV line, I added pain medication, and Nurse Peterson, who I requested be assigned to the girl, had given her some as well.
I walked beside the stretcher as they brought Tanner back to his room, and when he was in bed, I hooked him up to the monitors and watched him sleep. His sleep was not peaceful. He cried out unrecognizable words, some in pain, some in fear. The only word I recognized was Shadows, and the few times he seemed at peace, he called out my name.
I held his hand, and not just to comfort him, but also to comfort me. I warned myself to be careful. My attraction to him has always been strong, but over the past fourteen hours, attraction somehow morphed to true feelings, and without warning or approval, had multiplied by at least a hundred.
Needing a break, I went for a coffee, deciding I wouldn’t sleep until he woke, and stumbled across a gift shop. I bought Calee a Teddy bear with a German flag T-shirt on it and grabbed the little girl one with a US Navy T-shirt, hoping to give her an object that would help soothe her when she was afraid. Its fur was soft like Tanner’s dark brown beard.
As a doctor, I see fear in every form on a daily basis, but never in my life had I witnessed sheer terror in the eyes of a child. If that was likely what he saw when he rescued her, I understand why, even in sleep, they couldn’t loosen his grip on her hand and had to make the decision to bring her, too, to keep them together.
I took a picture of her, thinking Tanner could send it to Irons through a secure channel so his men could find out who she is. I have a feeling Capt. Straker did the same thing because he was hell-bent on tossing around the words “classified” and “not authorized.”
After making sure all of that was being done, I call my own little one and sing her to sleep. When she falls asleep, I talk to Frankie, who tells me that Calee and Lily are having a great time and that Rosa and William Sr., Will and Frankie’s parents, are on their way. They will all soon be going to the cabin that Irons, Shadows, Titan, and Will purchased together years ago. The cabin is more like a million-dollar log complex that is as secure as Camp David.