True Identity (The Lost and Found series Book 1)

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True Identity (The Lost and Found series Book 1) Page 5

by Amanda Mackey


  My eyes traced the curve of her hips, rising to the swell of her breasts, pausing for a moment, admiring the view before ascending to her stunning eyes.

  She watched me scrutinize her and it caused my stomach to tumble.

  “I’ll help you find out who you are and where you’re from, but you have to move to the ward when they come to collect you. It will probably be this afternoon. Now that you’re awake, the nurses will get you up walking.”

  Did I really have a choice? I sure as hell wasn’t going to like it, but if I could get up and move about, I’d be able to visit Mac, surely.

  The slithering unease continued to wind itself around my insides, but I didn’t protest any further. Her hands were tied by protocol. I’d just have to make the best of it. Besides, finding out where I came from topped everything else. It needed to happen before my release. Otherwise, where would I go? Stepping outside the walls of the hospital would be an alien world. Without Mac, I’d be lost.

  “Fine. Thank you. I appreciate you offering to help me.”

  “Of course. Everybody needs a little help sometimes, right?”

  Indeed. And she truly didn’t know how much help I needed.

  Chapter Nine

  Mac

  It shook my foundation when Harley admitted to needing me. His desperation made me almost cave to his wishes to have him stay in ICU by declaring a setback in his health to my peers, but my lie would catch up with me soon enough. I didn’t need that kind of trouble following me.

  Apparently, he couldn’t remember a thing, which must be extremely alarming for him. It would serve me well to step into his shoes for a moment.

  He truly had no one…except me, it would appear. My heart went out to him in sympathy. I wasn’t sure how I could possibly figure things out for him when the hospital had hit a brick wall. It didn’t make sense. The police who had initially come in while I was on holiday had come up blank. Was he a ghost?

  Hopefully with time he would regain snippets of memory, so we could piece together his puzzle.

  For now, he’d just have to get used to being in a ward with other patients and different doctors and nurses. As much as I would miss him, at least I knew he’d be taken care of.

  Perhaps I’d ask Nick if any of his friends had a spare room Harley could stay in until he got on his feet again. I didn’t like the idea of him living out on the streets. My duty of care as a nurse needed to extend above and beyond in this case.

  As if tuned in to my thoughts, Char came breezing through the door with two orderlies in tow pushing a bed.

  “Hey girl. I’m here to steal your man.” She laughed at her own joke and I couldn’t help but smile at her way with words. “There’s a bed free down in ward C.”

  Her gaze roamed over Harley. “Well, hello there. It’s good to have you awake,” she flirted, flashing him her killer smile.

  He shot me a quick, panicked look before focusing on Char. “Are you going to be my new nurse?” The transfer had to take place regardless of his concerns.

  “Nope. I’m just here to send you on your way. Chris and Jared will take care of you and see to it you get to your new room in one piece.”

  Harley dragged in a deep breath. Char didn’t know what had transpired of late. I hadn’t seen much of her, so she had no idea about Harley’s attachment to me.

  Moving closer to him, I said, “You ready?” Noting his apprehension and fingers squeezing the sheets, I touched his arm. “Remember what we talked about? I promise everything is going to be fine. I’ll come visit you after my shift later, okay?”

  His pupils had dilated in fear, and his breathing had bottomed out.

  “Come on. Let’s do this,” I offered.

  With a shake of his head, he whispered, “Please. I don’t want to go.”

  “I know.” Glancing at Char and the two orderlies, I tried to convey my concern. Char was the one who picked up on it, so she stepped in to help.

  “Let’s get you settled in your new room. You’re sharing with a guy about your age. I’ll grab you a coffee and switch the television on. You like sports, Harley?”

  She realized her mistake as soon as she said it.

  He appeared to think, and then went to open his mouth, but nothing came out. He couldn’t remember if he liked sports or not.

  Char, ever the optimist, covered her mistake. “Of course you do. You’re a guy. All guys love sports.” She grabbed one of his arms to help him up. Pulling back the sheets, she realized the catheter was still attached. “Oh. You want to take care of this Mac?” Her questioning gaze spoke volumes about me forgetting to do it.

  “Sure.” I should have done it. I normally wouldn’t forget something so important but Harley threw me off my game. Pushing Harley back down, I quickly drew the curtain around the bed.

  “This is going to sting a little, okay? But once it’s out, you can move around and use the bathroom on your own.”

  Following my lead, he rested his head back on the pillow, enabling me to lift his gown. Gingerly I removed the catheter, glancing at his face to garner his discomfort. He barely batted an eyelid, all the while he focused on me. I wondered what he thought as he watched me. His black pupils must have been magnets, because it was hard to look away. They were the most intense eyes imaginable. His stare became a living entity I could feel inside me, even with my focus elsewhere. The naughty part about being so close to him? I soaked it up and craved more. The ICU would be cold and sterile once more without him. But I had to stay strong and do my job. Nothing good would come from getting attached to a patient. They were transient.

  After we were done, I pulled the curtain and nodded to Char that he was good to go.

  Harley rose and swung his shaky legs over the side of the bed, sitting for a moment to stabilize.

  The idea of not seeing him every day made my stomach curdle. I wasn’t sure who my next patient would be, but they wouldn’t have a patch on Harley.

  Steadying him on the other side, I helped him shuffle to the gurney, where he climbed up, wincing as he lay down. His wound would be sore for a while.

  Jared piped up for the first time. “Right. Cargo on board. Let’s go deliver the freight!” He winked at me and I chuckled, keeping my sights firmly on Harley as he craned his anxious face around to watch me as they wheeled him out.

  My heart broke at his pleading eyes, until the door shut behind them and I was left with Char.

  “Okay, what just happened, Mac? I think pretty boy has the hots for you, and clearly he’s affecting your ability to think.” She leaned her hip against the vacant bed.

  Letting some of the tension out on a long sigh, I folded my arms across my chest. “He’s suffering from PTSD. I’m his connection. The first person he saw when he woke up. He wanted me to keep being his nurse. I explained to him the impossibility of it, given I work in ICU.”

  “You think he’ll remember anything?”

  “I hope so, because it’s the only way I can help him figure things out.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You’re going to help him? On a personal level? What will Nick say?”

  I cringed. She’d never liked Nick, so it surprised me that she asked.

  “Nick quite possibly will never know. He’s too busy trying to make more money. I’m convinced I could move Harley into our apartment and Nick would be none the wiser because he’s never there, or if he is, it’s in body only.”

  “You thought any more about giving him his marching orders or moving out?”

  “I’ve been mulling it over.”

  “You have? So you agree with me?” She straightened, her eyes sparking with hope.

  “He stood me up for dinner again.”

  “Ah, what a dick. Sorry, girl, but there’s no excuses. Get out now and move on.” Swinging around to face the door and taking a few steps before glancing over her shoulder, she added, “Who knows? Mr. Hottie, Harley could be just who you’re looking for.”

  With that she disappeared into the bowel
s of the hospital before I could give her my rebuttal.

  I didn’t have time to dwell on it because I was paged to the nurse’s station.

  Chapter Ten

  Mac

  After a hectic afternoon, my feet were aching and I had a rotten headache. A motorbike accident victim arrived in Harley’s old room after a three hour surgery. Unfortunately, the other male who’d been driving, died an hour after arriving at the hospital from internal bleeding and a brain injury.

  My new guy had cheated death also, still classed as critical, but hanging in there for now. I only hoped he survived the night.

  I promised Harley I’d drop by to see him, so I had to honor my vow. In actual fact, I couldn’t wait to see him.

  Char had been scheduled to take over my shift until midnight. She was pulling a double to get the overtime and extra money. I don’t know how she did it. When she breezed through the door looking way better than me, I felt more than ready to leave. I figured she must keep herself hyped up on extra strong coffee with loads of sugar.

  “Hey Mac. How’s the new guy?”

  “No change. Still classed as critical.”

  “It’s going to be a long night then.”

  “Yep. I’m heading over to see Harley before I go.”

  Her eyebrows lifted, “Oh?”

  “I promised him I would, being his first day in the ward.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “What’s uh huh?” Her mischievous smile spoke volumes.

  “I think you have an iddy-biddy crush on his hotness.”

  Turning and padding toward the door so she couldn’t see through my façade, I opted for nonchalance. “He’s a patient. That’s all. It’s my duty of care to make sure he’s settled in.”

  “If you say so. Love you, girl.”

  Giving her a backward wave without spinning around, I grabbed my bag and exited, glad to be away from her accurate assumptions.

  Just because I found Harley strikingly attractive didn’t mean anything. The fact he had attached himself to me because of his amnesia didn’t factor into it. It couldn’t.

  After clocking off, I followed the long hallways to ward C, my stomach tying itself in knots.

  I didn’t need to be nervous. I’d only seen him that morning.

  I shook it off and found his room. I slowly pushed the door open, knowing he shared with another patient.

  His bed lay adjacent to the large window overlooking the hospital courtyard. Outside, the sun lowered itself for the evening, erasing some of the natural light from the room.

  I could still make out Harley’s rock solid form sprawled out on top of the bed sheets, his face turned toward the window. The bed closest to the door had the curtain drawn, so I couldn’t see his roommate.

  Careful not to disturb him, I quietly closed the distance to Harley and peeked across the bed.

  His eyes were shut, his face far from restful. His forehead had a wide slash across it and his mouth cut a thin, compressed line into his cheeks.

  I wondered what went on inside his head.

  A sound leached from his throat. A pained grunt, as if he’d been clobbered by a plank of wood.

  Moving around the bed so I faced him, I dragged a chair across and sat, praying he remained asleep. He needed all he could get in order to recover, and remembering how much he had fought against moving out of ICU, I didn’t want to wake him.

  It was nice to sit and take a load off. Placing my purse on the floor, I sagged into the hard chair, letting myself relax, enjoying the end of my shift. If Harley wasn’t going to wake up, he wouldn’t know I’d come by to visit, so I’d just have to get one of his nurses to pass on the message that I’d been.

  With each minute that ticked along, Harley became more and more agitated. A thin sheen of sweat pebbled his brow, and his head thrashed from side to side.

  His mumbled words were incoherent. His chest rose and fell heavily. A part of me wanted to take away his suffering, and the other part had me curious as to what caused it.

  Before I could take my next breath, he cried out and sat upright in bed, eyes wide open.

  I startled. The movement made him pivot his head. The alarm in his eyes denoted a man reliving a horrific memory. His pupils were dilated, his stare absent. He wasn’t back yet.

  I placed my hand gently on his forearm. “Harley? Hey. You had a nightmare. It’s okay. It’s over now.”

  As if remembering to breathe again, he began siphoning in air harshly, his hands coming to grip his head.

  “Angel…” he said amidst panic. And then a whisper. “It wasn’t a dream.”

  “It wasn’t?”

  Shaking his head, he squeezed his eyes closed, still dragging in air. “I…I. Killed. A. Friend.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Harley–Moments before

  Deathly silence. Nothing stirred. My body, swathed in weaponry, cumbersome yet necessary for battle. My mission? To seek and destroy. Take no prisoners. I had orders to kill.

  My earpiece rang out. “Tigers are sitting pretty, over.”

  “Hold. I repeat, hold.”

  “Roger that.”

  Adrenalin powered blood in and out of my heart. I thrived on it. The lull before the storm. Everyone tense and fired up, focused solely on their target, breathing kept to silent gasps. I felt my second in command and best friend, Viper, aka Charlie O’Donnell, behind me. He’d acquired the title of Viper because of his lightning fast reflexes.

  He always had my back. There were only two of us entering the front of the dilapidated building to retrieve one of our own who’d been captured by rebel militants in Afghanistan. The building was surrounded by my team, strategically placed and ready to act at my command.

  Intel had led us here. A crumbling mud brick dwelling in a desert environment. The heat stifled us, all geared up, but I knew in my core, I’d been born to do this.

  With an ear to the door, I listened for any activity inside, but came up empty. Motioning with my left hand to Viper, I counted down using three fingers, and then we were through the door, moving like ghosts, guns raised, eyes riveted to the thermal scopes. The interior consisted of a short hallway leading to an open space. We flattened ourselves against the wall, on high alert for the enemy. Even though we took the enemy by surprise, we still remained vigilant at all times. To let our guard down would kill us. I gave Viper the signal to stand on the opposite wall as we sidled our way to the main room, which held our target.

  Nearing the space, I could see an old mattress on the floor with rumpled sheets. Red heat showed up through my scope to the left as I peeked around the corner. A partition separated part of the room. Behind it was our target. Two different distinct shapes were showing. One moving, one not.

  We were like predators stalking prey. Crouched, ready to fire. Viper scoped out the rest of the room behind us as I crept forward. Our target sat, hands bound behind the chair.

  The captor hovered nearby, but far enough away for me to get a clear shot without injuring our man.

  Civilians would be sweating and freaking out about now, but I remained as cool as a cucumber and I knew all my men would be the same. That’s what we were trained for. The elite. The best of the best. The ability to operate like a machine with no emotion attached whatsoever. We had a job to do, albeit a deadly one. We were all immersed in our roles, otherwise none of us would be here.

  Clearing the rest of the house, I waited until Viper had my back, and then proceeded forward. The enemy closed the distance on our prize, negating the clear shot I’d scoped.

  A voice rang out in Dari, better known as Persian. I didn’t understand a word, but when the sound of a grunt followed, from our man, I acted. Rounding the corner of the partition, I barked out, “Arms up! Arms up!” He wouldn’t understand, but we’d taken him off guard. A knife pressed into the prisoner’s throat, the captor suddenly screaming at us. Highly agitated, he began sweating.

  Viper appeared beside me, both of our guns trained on the target
’s forehead. Everything that ensued happened in slow motion. The bearded Afghan militant swiped his blade across Reno’s throat, clean and neat. We called him Reno because he grew up in Reno, Nevada before moving to Ann Arbor two years ago, claiming he’d met a woman whom he loved. I’d never met her, because apparently she worked a lot and when she had time off, they liked to spend it together. Just the two of them. I’d asked him where they met and he’d said, online. I guess, whatever worked for some. He’d seemed happier than I’d ever seen him.

  Reno had been with my team for the last two tours and I respected him as much as I did Viper.

  Before I could think further, Viper and I had opened fire using our Colt M4A1 assault rifles. When the sack of shit hit the floor, my eyes flew to Reno’s for the first time. His scared eyes were honed on mine, his throat slashed open, blood pulsing out from the wound and his mouth. I acted on instinct. “Cover me, Viper,” I growled.

  Dropping my weapon, I ran to Reno, knowing I’d failed him and knowing he knew I had. I tried to hold his throat together in a feeble attempt to redeem myself, but as his eyes began to roll back in his head and gurgles sounded out of his mouth, I let go a string of curses.

  “Stay with me, buddy. We’re gonna get you out of here. Stay, please!”

  He was fading fast. The blood seeped through my fingers as I attempted to hold him together. The sounds coming from him weren’t right. My voice was desperate. The air had soured with the coppery scent.

  “Reno! Reno! Don’t you do this! Don’t leave me!”

  His eyes opened but they were glazed with the look of death. I could see the life draining out of him.

  In a final attempt to get words out, he spluttered three words that sounded very much like, “I’m sorry, man.”

 

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