“Perfect. Right smack in the middle between here and Warrior’s Way. So it’s perfect.”
“Excellent. So here’s a laptop. I downloaded all the files for you to have access to. If you’re up to start this week, Marie can show you around, direct you to anything you’ll need in the office here, and then set you up to go visit the other soldiers at Warrior’s Way.”
“Charlie mentioned a retreat this weekend, so I plan on attending and easing my way into introductions. Considering those individuals are non-compliant, it may be the best way to do things.”
“Fantastic. I need to get moving, but feel free to ask Marie any other questions and we’ll catch up tonight over the phone or tomorrow.”
“Sounds good, Michael,” she said, and he got up from his desk.
The three of them stood and Michael gave her a hug. “I missed you, and so did Andrew. We’ll get together for dinner or drinks or something.”
She smiled. “Sounds like a plan. Thanks.”
He walked out of the room and Marie smiled wide.
“What?” Alaska asked.
“I see he still has that crush for you.”
“No,” Alaska said, and then picked up her purse along with the laptop and file.
“It’s okay. It’s nice to see Dr. O’Rourke smiling. Melody did a number on him and his brother Andrew.”
“Hmm, he really didn’t mention her much. Said he was busy with work, and Andrew was just as busy in the police department. Can’t believe that he’s been a detective for five years.”
“Both good looking men in any uniform,” Marie said, and winked.
Alaska agreed as they walked out of the office.
“How about you? Seeing anyone?”
“Nope and don’t plan on it either.”
“You’re drop dead gorgeous, and your eyes the bluest blue I think I’ve ever seen. You won’t be single long. Although I think the doctor will be jealous if you start dating other men.”
Alaska shook her head. She felt shocked. However, she knew that she had stunning blue eyes. It was an asset she was always complimented on. Dating was never an issue. Commitment was, and her stint in Baghdad was years long, and life just seemed to pass her by. She was ready to have more time to herself, but she also enjoyed helping those in need, and specifically soldiers who could use assistance to make sure they survived.
She hadn’t been there for Otis and Vender and she felt guilty about that, even though it was out of her control. What Michael didn’t know was that her and Vender had been very close. Their feelings for one another was strong, but their careers and their need to continue serving their country got in the way of what they could have had. She could say she even loved Vender, but she blew the chance at happiness and a future, and so did Vender. Lovers in between missions, it was bound to fail.
She said goodbye and headed out to her car with thoughts of the special ops soldier she gave her heart to. Vender was probably the only real shot she had at love, at a relationship with a man she could trust. Now, no one else came even close to him. She swallowed hard and headed out of the parking lot. A year without sex, without that close human contact, and she felt numb. Like even if she met a man who made her body react, she wouldn’t have the motivation or the desire to let him in. She preferred being alone. Alone was easy to handle. Emotions, losing someone you loved was too much to bear, especially coming off of a career like she did. The midst of danger, death all around her, and the hope that it would all clear up and life would be about living instead of dying.
Chapter 1
Asher Ford gripped the edge of the bed and breathed through his nostrils. He felt the pain in his hip, and down his leg to the stump. Was it getting better? Was it hurting less than six months ago? Then a year? The fuck if he knew. His mind was not so clear. His pain meter so far off the charts after the injury happened, that from there on out, his body went into survival mode. Now when someone asked him, when a doctor asked him how is the pain on a scale from 1-10, he didn’t know. His mind wanted to say ten. Because it hurt. It fucking hurt. Hurt his thigh, his hip, his back, his fucking head. It was destroying his confidence, his strength mentally besides physically.
He stared at the stump then at his right leg. The good leg, muscular, defined, but scarred as well. He could have lost both. He could have lost an arm, too. It could have been a lot worse. A bullet, one bullet to the head would have alleviated all of this. He closed his eyes and willed away the tears, the pussy emotions. He was a fucking Marine. He continued to take several breaths. In and out, he breathed through the morning process of wishing he were dead, then focusing on his commander’s orders. “Keep your shit together, men. We’re a team, a family, and we’re in this together,” Magnar Vice, their commander would say. He promised them a safe place. A sanctuary of sorts where they could heal, adapt and overcome all of their injuries, all the emotions, and be alone to process things. It wasn’t quite that easy. Their friends, their fellow soldiers were supportive, but pushy. They said being alone wasn’t the right thing to do or attitude to have. So what was he fucking doing now? He was pushing to get stronger, to get used to this prosthetic device, and try not to look like a damn handicap.
“Fuck,” he hissed and pushed himself up. He was getting better at standing on one leg, but it wasn’t necessary. The physical therapist told him that he needed to get used to the device. There was no reason to push and risk falling, or hurting something else. A pansy. He was turning into a pansy. He glanced at the clock. Six thirty a.m. The others were probably already up. Even Czeck, who had survived a leg full of shrapnel when the explosion rocked their world. Glider and Forbes and their team were the closest to the bomb. They all died, then it was Asher and Czeck feet away with Gordo and Magnar behind them. Gordo got slammed by debris. He broke several ribs, ruptured his spleen, tore his ACL, and ruptured tendons and muscles in his calf. Their commander, Magnar, took shrapnel to the chest and slammed his head against a wall, leaving him with migraines, a nasty large scar under his arm and ribs where he lost a chunk of skin. They were all suffering. Some worse than others, but they were suffering together.
A few minutes later, after washing up and getting dressed, Asher headed out to the kitchen. Sure enough they were all there, and it pissed him off. He was last again. They were adapting and overcoming their injuries and he wasn’t. The scowl formed on his face and he headed to the counter.
“Want some coffee?” Gordo asked.
“I got it,” he snapped. He immediately felt that twinge of guilt, but then submerged it and poured himself a cup of coffee. Maybe that would ease his sour mood? Who was he kidding? He was never going to feel happy, feel positive about life or a future ever again. Getting through the darkest hour of his life where the moments that explosion went off, and the effects that changed his life and the team’s lives forever would never be forgotten.
Magnar felt the ache in his head, but submerged how sick he felt in order to help the men. They were improving even if their attitudes weren’t. He was most concerned for Asher and Czeck. Asher was getting ornery and nasty, bringing it up a notch each day instead of it lessening. Magnar wasn’t sure what to do about it. The men refused to seek counseling of any sort, and even the physical therapy was a fight. None of the therapists at the clinic or who showed up here at Warrior’s Way could handle the nastiness or behavior. He was at the point where he wondered if he shouldn’t push at all and just let them be. However, Asher’s recovery needed more a hands-on approach. He needed to learn to adapt to having a prosthetic and all that came along with it. The worst part was the people’s reaction to a man with one leg. It really pissed him off. Asher risked his life, like all of them did, to protect this country. To protect each of them, and yet they couldn’t even look at him. Magnar shook the thoughts from his head. It made the pain worse. The worrying, the fears, and concerns that his men could hurt themselves, hell, end their lives because of their injuries and the weaknesses they felt. He was going to leave them for a li
ttle while today and meet up with Toby, Randall, Louis, and Voight. There was someone they wanted him to meet.
The sound of a plate falling to the floor drew all their attention.
“Fuck,” Asher cursed and went to try and bend down to pick up the pieces, but Gordo and Czeck went to do it and they both cursed and lost their balance because of their injuries to their legs and knees.
Magnar got up. “I got it,” he said and bent down,and felt the rush to his head and gripped the counter.
“We’re all a bunch of fucking pussies,” Gordo barked.
They looked at one another and Asher laughed, then leaned against the counter and shook his head. “We’re healing, and we’ll get through this. Together, men. Like always. Together,” he said, and they mumbled in agreement and worked together to pick up the broken plate that ordinarily would have been a two second job, but it turned into several minutes of clean up. They needed time. They all just needed time.
Alaska James was talking to Faith and Leeann by the side of the house in Warrior’s Way. They had given her a tour of the main house and explained what they offered and about the retreats. Alaska would be part of them if one of the men she was assigned to wanted to go along.
“Charlie told us so much about you, and just a little bit about your experiences. We were both so impressed,” Faith said to her.
“Charlie and I got to spend some time together in the field. She’s good people, and when I heard about Warrior’s Way, I had a feeling it would be something I would love to be part of.”
“Has it been hard leaving the field and settling down a bit?” Leeann asked her as they walked around the house and toward the front.
“A little bit, but I knew it was time to move on and really help soldiers returning from that chaos. They need the support, and advocates for them to ensure they receive the proper treatment and therapy they need. It’s the least we can do for their service,” Alaska said.
“I knew I would like you. We also heard about the little situation that happened at the clinic in town the other day. Your actions ensured that the soldier didn’t wind up behind bars or shot,” Faith said.
“It wasn’t a big deal. I’m glad that we all figured out it was the dosage of medication.”
“Yes, and it’s crazy to think that sometimes these soldiers aren’t monitored as individuals, but more as a group. One medication could work well for some and not for others. I think the medical staff might become overwhelmed and just get into a routine, you know?” Leeann added.
“Well, it isn’t fair or right. These men and women deserve better, and they could even hurt themselves if they get the wrong medication. It’s upsetting to me,” Faith said.
“I hear you. For the most part things are done correctly,” she said, and then Alaska saw the five men standing by a large black pickup truck talking.
Faith pointed out her men and her cousin and brother, then they pointed to Magnar. He was a commander of one of the teams Alaska would be helping out. The man was big. Six feet four, if she had to guess, scruff along his cheeks and jaw, brown hair military style, and pretty big and muscular. He had a narrow waist and wore a button down green shirt rolled up to his elbows, and dark blue jeans with cowboy boots. He was a good looking, seasoned man, early forties.
As they headed closer, the men looked at them, and Alaska could see all of them looking her over, but Randall and Toby remained staring at her as well as Magnar, but not Louis and Voight. Their smiles went to Faith as they ate her up with their eyes. Louis, she believed, pulled Faith into his arms and kissed her as Voight took her hand and brought it to his lips and kissed the top.
“Everyone, this is Alaska James,” Leeann said, and introduced her to each of the men. She shook their hands, and Magnar suddenly went from looking shocked as his eyes widened, to angry maybe as he squinted and looked her over. When their hands touched, she felt a surge of energy between them, but she brushed it off. She had been around soldiers for many years, and was used to handling their flirtatious ways or their games to get some action. What threw her off was these sensations instantly, and the way his dark, green eyes held hers with some intense emotion.
“A pleasure meeting everyone. This place is amazing. You all are doing such awesome work here. Faith and Leeann have been explaining some things and I am so impressed,” Alaska said to them as she looked around the place.
Magnar was right next to her. “It’s great to have you hear, Doc. We’ve heard such great things from Charlie about you,” Randall said to her.
She smiled.
“Doc?” Magnar asked.
“She’s a doctor, a Corpsman, so the best of the best, and we are so grateful that you’re taking on this position,” Voight said to her.
“I think it will be a great fit. I guess you all have some kind of schedule we’ll go over and get things organized,” she said to him.
“We sure do. As a matter of fact, Magnar and his team are some of the soldiers you’ll be working with. We were just going over some things with Magnar and letting him know more about you.” Voight said.
“Any questions you have, Magnar, feel free to ask,” Alaska said, and they started to head inside.
“Not sure this is going to work, Voight,” she heard Magnar say, but Randall took her arm and was talking to her and escorting her inside and explaining about the group sessions and some of the concerns they had. A few minutes later, Voight walked into the house looking upset.
“What’s going on? Where is Magnar?” Randall asked.
“He’s not sure his men are going to be able to handle working with Alaska.”
“Why is that?” Alaska asked.
Voight looked her over. “Not really sure. This is their M.O. really. They find something wrong with any of the therapists, and Magnar is super protective of his team. So if they complain or give any shit, Margnar removes the person.”
“Is he outside?” Alaska asked.
“He might be gone.”
“Let me go talk to him. Maybe make him understand what I do is not traditional at all and very noninvasive.”
“Are you sure?” Voight asked her.
She nodded and then headed toward the front door. As she went outside, she didn’t see him at first and then she saw part of his shoulder sticking out from behind the truck. He looked bent over like maybe he was getting sick or something. Her concern moved up a notch and she headed straight toward him. “Magnar?” she said his name.
“Shit,” he cursed, and she came around the truck and saw him with his eyes closed and leaning against the door.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he snapped.
“Migraine?” she asked, and he opened his eyes and looked at her.
He had to look down a bit. The man towered over her and now that he was this close, she could see the more seasoned expression. The fine lines by his eyes, that look of determination, but emotion in his eyes.
“Will you be okay to drive?” she asked.
“I’m fucking fine to drive.” He raised his voice and then closed his eyes and held his temple. She glanced around them and saw a bench right between the trees in the shade.
“Why don’t we sit down a minute, and let it pass? Do you have something on you that you take?”
He was breathing through the pain, and as he walked, he teetered a moment and she didn’t think twice. She wrapped her arm around his waist and guided him to the bench.
“I’m fine.”
“I know. I’m just making sure that you are. I guess it’s just the way I am.” He sat down and she stood next to him.
“I feel like a fucking invalid. The way this shit comes on out of nowhere. It’s been days, then this morning I felt it.”
“Well, I haven’t looked at your files or injuries as of yet. Did you have head trauma of some sort, and maybe a concussion?”
In the Darkest Hour Page 2