Breaking Point

by Lindsey McKenna

  “You were on your own,” Gabe growled, angry. “If you were with a SEAL team, that would never have happened. They’d have sent in a QRF to support you.”

  Bay saw the beautiful long spans of the Coronado Bridge coming up. The yellow lights across the bridge reflected brightly into the ocean below it. “Yeah, well, this wasn’t a SEAL gig, Gabe. The SF operates differently. They’re more conservative about dropping men into a firefight. Besides, we didn’t have a drone up. The CIA had no other drones in the area from Bagram, either.”

  “Damn them,” he ground out, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. “How did you get hit?” Slowing down, he guided the SUV onto the bridge, glad they were almost home. In another ten minutes, he’d have Bay safe and sound in his condo. There, he could help her. Protect her. Love her.

  She rubbed her face tiredly, closing her eyes. “It wasn’t pretty. I got called out to medically help one of our guys who went down. I was running across the village toward the area where he was shot and I got hit by a bullet in the left side of my vest. It sent me flying. My SIG flew out of my hand and Hugh, who was with me, snatched if off the ground and returned fire. He killed the guy who shot at us.”

  “I owe that sergeant a handshake,” Gabe said, his voice low with feeling. “And then you got up and went and took care of the wounded guy?”

  “Of course. I knew I had probably gotten a hematoma, maybe some fractured ribs out of it, but I could still do my job.” Her mouth drew in. “I was able to save him. But God, it was close. Too close. They wouldn’t even bring in a medevac until dawn, so we moved him to a house where I could stabilize and care for him.”

  “I wish I’d been there,” Gabe snarled. “You’d never have waited so long.”

  Bay looked at the homes on either side of the short street. She’d never been to this area before. There were palm trees, luxurious tropical bushes in front of each yard. They looked as though most had been built in the 1920s or 1930s. She heard the frustration in Gabe’s lowered voice, felt his helpless rage over the situation. At the end of the block, she saw nothing but darkness in front of them.

  “Is that water?” she asked.

  “Yes, San Diego Bay. My condo is located about a hundred feet from the ocean.” Gabe tried to lighten his tone and take the anger out of his voice. “When I joined the SEALs, I put all my money into buying a six-condo unit here on this island. I felt it was a good investment because over the last decade, prices for rentals have skyrocketed. I made a good decision and I have six condo units along this side of the bay. I have one and I lease out the other five to SEALs.”

  “Wow,” Bay murmured, giving him a look of admiration, “I didn’t know you were a real estate mogul like Donald Trump.”

  He smiled tightly as he drove in to the last three-story building next to the blackened water of the bay.

  “One day,” Gabe said, putting the SUV in park in the driveway, “I knew I’d leave the SEALs and I needed some kind of income.” He turned off the engine and released his seat belt. “Come on, let’s get you inside. I know you’re beyond exhaustion. What you need right now is a hot bath and a lot of uninterrupted sleep.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  BAY STUMBLED AS she walked into his large condo on the first floor. Gabe’s arm went around her shoulders to steady her.

  “I can’t even walk straight,” she muttered in apology.

  Gabe turned on the lights. “It’s all right,” he said, understanding the rigors and pressures that combat put a person through. He guided her through the foyer and into the living room.

  “This is beautiful,” Bay breathed, looking around in awe. The wooden floor was made of natural blond bamboo, the windows were floor to ceiling and overlooking the dark water of the ocean. The furniture was all rattan with jade-colored cushions. There was a minimalist quality to the condo that reminded her of Japanese design. She felt peace and more of her tension dissolving.

  “Anything would be after coming out of Afghanistan,” he said, guiding her down the wide hall. Gabe pushed the door to the bathroom open with the toe of his Nike shoe. “Everything you need is in there, Bay.” He turned her gently to the opposite side of the hall. “Your bedroom is here, right across from it. I’ve got a robe in the bathroom for you, shampoo and some jasmine soap. All you need to do is walk across the hall when you’re done.”

  Bay leaned against him, smiling wearily. “You’ve thought of everything, Gabe. Thanks so much.” She felt his strength and was grateful for his arm sliding around her shoulders.

  “Before you go to bed, I need to look at your ribs, Bay.”

  She heard the grimness in his tone. “It’s just a bruise.”

  “I’ll be out in the kitchen. Give me a call when you’re done with your bath. I need to check it out.”

  She nodded. “I will.”

  He released her and as she looked up into his face, a powerful wave of care come over her from him. His eyes were narrowed and filled with concern. “I know I’m whipped, but I want you to know how grateful I am for you being here. All throughout the trip, you were all I could think about.” Bay reached up and slid her fingers around his thick, powerful neck. “Kiss me. I’m not going to break....” She leaned up, curving her mouth against his.

  Kiss me. Her words seemed to reverberate throughout his body. A jolt of heat raced through him as her soft, searching lips sank hotly against his mouth. He wrapped his arms around her, mindful of her injury. He took her lips, felt her breath mingle with his, tasted her. The kiss made him forget everything except Bay and this exquisite moment. Her mouth was pliant, giving and taking against his. Pure happiness began to replace his anxiety for Bay. Very slowly, he eased away from her glistening lips. Drowning in her dark, radiant eyes, he noticed the moisture in them. She was fragile and so damn vulnerable.

  “Look, get your butt in there and take a bath or shower. You’re so tired you can’t see straight, Bay. I’ll be nearby if you need anything.” Gabe gently turned her around and led her into the large, spacious tiled bathroom. There was a chair where she could sit.

  “I’ll be okay,” she whispered. “A bath sounds like heaven.” Several jars of bubble bath sat on a ledge. Touched by his thoughtfulness, she turned and released his hand. “I’ll give you a call when I’m done.”

  * * *

  AS GABE BUSIED himself with making coffee out in the kitchen, he realized there was almost a shyness between them. His emotions warred within him. They hadn’t seen each other in two months. He sensed Bay’s reserve with him and understood it was going to take a while to get reacquainted. She needed time to come down from the firefight. Time to adjust to civilian life where no one was throwing an RPG her way. Time for them to slowly get to know each other once again without the stress of combat threatening them. Thank God, they had thirty days. Because the last thing Gabe wanted to do was rush Bay in any way.

  He’d learned the hard way about rushing into things with Lily, and he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. Allowing Bay to set the pace, set the boundaries, was the only wise thing to do. And more than anything, Gabe wanted her to come to him. Wanted Bay to want him as badly as he needed her. It had to be mutual and it couldn’t be rushed. This was one time when patience was a virtue. Being a sniper, he knew all about patience, and Bay was more than worth waiting for.

  Gabe worried. He knew what bullet injuries into the vest meant. The bullet could break bones, cause internal as well as external bleeding, a hematoma, which was dangerous if not taken care of. It slugged a person with an invisible sixteen-pound sledgehammer emotionally as well as physically.

  The two times he’d taken hits to his Kevlar, he’d gone through weeks of shattered emotions. Of nearly dying. Death was a funny thing, he’d discovered. SEALs were taught they were invincible. Yet, when he’d been hit and lived to tell about it, Gabe understood he wasn
’t invincible at all. It had changed his perspective in many ways as a warrior. And he knew without a doubt, Bay’s view of dying, of living, would change, too. The only question was how.

  After pouring himself a cup of coffee, he walked into the open-concept living room, the filmy cream-colored bamboo curtains drawn across the large windows for the night. Sitting down on the rattan sofa, he propped his feet up on the rattan-and-glass coffee table and waited.

  Bay emerged half an hour later, wrapped in Gabe’s dark blue terry cloth robe. It was so large it brushed her bare feet as she padded barefoot down the hall and into the living room. Gabe relaxed on the sofa, but his eyes, those always-alert SEAL eyes of his, were focused intently on her. She managed a slight smile. “Your pajamas and robe are way too big for me. I feel like I’m swimming in them. And I’m not a frogman.”

  The inside SEAL joke wasn’t lost on Gabe. He grinned and eased to his feet. “We’ll get your stuff out of the duffel bag tomorrow morning. I thought you could survive one night in my sleep gear.”

  “They’re fine. Thanks for being so thoughtful.” She absorbed his boneless grace as he walked up to her. Gabe’s shoulders were always proud, his carriage of a man who had absolutely confidence in himself. It soothed her raw emotions. The burning look in his eyes made her more than aware of his guardian-like energy that surrounded her. To say he was a big, bad SEAL guard dog was a gross understatement.

  “Come on, let’s take you down to your bedroom. I want to examine where you got hit.”

  “Really, it’s all right, Gabe.” Her heart beat faster as he gently slid his arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the hall.

  “I know you know your medical stuff, but suffer with me on this, all right? I’ve seen a few of these and I know when one needs medical attention or not.”

  Bay wrinkled her nose. “And you don’t trust me to know?”

  Gabe nudged the door open to her room. There was a stained-glass lamp sitting on the dresser shedding just enough light. “I trust you, baby. Take off the robe. Lie down on your right side. I’ll lift the pajama top and take a look at it. Nothing more.”

  “Okay,” she said. Again, she was glad he was being circumspect. Gabe had seen her naked in the shower, but she still felt shy in his presence. “Thanks for understanding,” she whispered, shrugging stiffly out of the robe and laying it across the bottom of the queen-size bed. The room was darkened except for the lamp. The bed had a rattan headboard and it curved gracefully across the width of it. She sat down on the dark green quilt and slowly lay down. The pillow felt welcoming and she sighed heavily as her head sank into it.

  “I promise this won’t hurt,” Gabe said. He settled next to her hip. The lamp would provide enough to light to view her injury. Bay had moved her left arm so that he’d have a clear view of her lower rib cage. As he pulled the cloth away, being sensitive not to reveal her breast in the process, Gabe stared down at the massively bruised area. The bullet had struck the ceramic plate midway down her rib cage. The swelling was breathtaking and he quickly assessed the area. The dark purple and blue bruising spread out and was larger than his hand. It was worse than he expected.

  “This is a bad one,” he growled. He gently laid the cloth down across her covered breast. “I’m going to have to touch the area.” He carefully laid his fingers across the swollen flesh. Bay flinched. Not good. The central area where the bullet had struck was the size of a softball. “What have you done so far about this?” he asked, lifting his head and catching her gaze. He saw the corners of her mouth tucked in, understanding even his tender examination to the area was painful for her.

  “I’ve been taking Motrin every twelve hours.”

  “Did you go to the dispensary at Bravo when you got back to base? Get some antibiotics?”

  “No. And you know why. If they’d seen this, I could have been held up for days and not made my C-5 flight out of Bagram on time.” Her voice became more emotional. “Gabe, I wanted to come home. I wanted out of Camp Bravo.” She slid him a pleading look. “You understand.”

  He sighed, studying the pus in the center of the hit area. It was infected. “Yeah, I do, but, baby, you know this should have been looked at.” He carefully brought the flap of the pajama top over the injury. “Were you able to ice it down?” Ice and Motrin were the usual ways to deal with a Kevlar hit. “Did you get an X-ray to rule out broken or fractured lower ribs?”

  “No X-ray, no antibiotics. I had some chemical ice packs in my medical ruck. I’d put them on every couple of hours and held them in place with some duct tape. I’m still on Motrin.”

  Shaking his head, Gabe studied her in the silence. He saw how exhausted Bay was. “I’m taking you to the Navy Dispensary on Coronado tomorrow morning. You need some medical eyes on this. Fair enough?”

  Bay made a face. “Don’t push it, Gabe. I’m whipped. Just let me sleep. We’ll talk about it tomorrow morning.”

  Nodding, Gabe got up. She was already going to sleep on him. “Tomorrow,” he promised quietly. He moved to the other side of the bed, lifted the cover and sheet and brought it over her. Making sure she was warm, he turned off the lamp on the dresser. Gabe turned around to take one last look at her. Bay was already asleep, her left hand nestled beneath her cheek, her lips parted, her damp hair was a dark frame around her face. His heart ached for her. As badly as Gabe wanted to lie down and simply hold her, it wasn’t the right time.

  Easing the door closed, Gabe moved silently down the hallway toward the kitchen. It was nearly 10:00 p.m. The stress was hitting him, too. He had to be careful of making a mountain out of molehill with Bay. She was a medical corpsman, and he was sure she’d assessed her own injury. Inwardly Gabe knew he’d have done the same thing. He’d want to get home so damn bad that nothing, not even a Kevlar bullet hit would stop him. No matter how bad it was. Still... He tried to rein in his worry for her.

  * * *

  SUNLIGHT WAS POURING into Bay’s bedroom when she slowly awoke. Though feeling as if she’d been hit by a semitruck, she luxuriated in the warmth of the covers over her. Sometime during the night, she’d turned over on her back. Moving her fingers to the bruise, she felt how tender it was. There was a lot of heat in it, too. That meant it was infected. Damn.

  Frowning, Bay slowly sat up, the cover falling around her hips. She looked around, admiring the bedroom’s tasteful décor. The rattan bed stands, dresser and mirror mingled with the rough weave of wheat-colored wallpaper. To her left were floor-to-ceiling windows. The drapes were a jade color and shielded most of the light pouring into the large room from the bay. On the dresser was a vase of fresh flowers, beautiful and exotic orchids in purple-and-white colors. Moving her fingers across the softness of the silk green quilt, Bay shook her head, feeling as if she were in some magical dream.

  She eased stiffly out of the bed, her bare feet touching the cool wooden floor. Just sitting in a soft bed, feeling halfway decent and clean, she drew in deep a breath, grateful. Her ribs ached, reminding her that drawing in a deep breath made them feel cranky. She figured she had hairline fractures in a couple of them, and Gabe wouldn’t be happy about it.

  Just hearing the silence and seeing the dark marine blue of the bay made her relax. What a startling difference between snowy, cold, desolate Afghanistan and here. Bay’s mind wasn’t functioning well right now, mostly from jet lag and flying halfway around the world.

  The door quietly opened and Gabe looked in.

  “Hey,” she called, her voice thick with sleep. “Good morning.”

  He seemed to watch her as an eagle would its prey. Or maybe it was really concern she saw in his eyes.

  “You’re up.” Gabe had a cup of coffee in hand. “I was just coming to check up on you.”

  “Mother-henning me,” she joked, rubbing her eyes.

  He stood at the door, as if not wanting her to feel pressured. “S
EALs always mother-hen each other when they’re down,” he said. Holding up his cup, he asked, “Feel like some coffee? Maybe some breakfast?”

  She wiped her eyes and allowed her hands to fall to the coverlet. The sleek feel of the raw silk was such a pleasure to her fingertips. “That sounds wonderful.” Bay looked around. “My duffel bag has some civilian clothes in it.”

  “I’ll go get it,” he said. “Coffee?”

  “That would be great. Thanks, Gabe.” Her heart expanded with joy as he gave her that careless smile. He could go from being so damn intense to boyish in a heartbeat. Fierce love for him swept through her. She watched Gabe leave as silently as he’d arrived. Someday he was going to have to teach her how to walk like that.

  * * *

  GABE SAID LITTLE as he watched Bay eat breakfast with relish. He’d made her a cheese-and-bacon omelet, with a small cup of fresh fruit and sourdough toast. She looked beautiful in the pink tee, white linen pants and white sandals. Most of all, her hair curled and lay around her shoulders, a light gold and brown frame for her beautiful face. It was then that Gabe realized how gaunt Bay had become. Stress, firefights, not getting to eat as often as you would like, were all causes of weight loss. He lost twenty to thirty pounds when in combat, and only on coming home would he put the weight back on. Combat always caused him to lose his appetite. And then he forced himself to eat so he wouldn’t pass out on a patrol. It was just part of combat stress for everyone and the reason why Bay was so thin.