“He’s really shook up about that, by the way. He’s blaming himself for the crash, one that still had you in the aircraft.” He stops, his eyes searching mine, his hands squeezing my fingers more tightly now. “Speaking of shook up … I’ve never been so scared in all my life.”
I can’t imagine Eric being scared of anything. But he looks down at his hands, the ones that cover and surround mine, tightening his lips as he tends to do when sorting out his thoughts. He finally lifts his eyes.
“Remember how we talked about my job as a SEAL? About what I do? Who I am?”
“I remember.”
“And the nickname? Lightning? Well, it’s energy. This energy that wells up inside and it’s all I can do to control it. And then combine that with my feelings for you.… Watching you swim away from Jonas … you were trying to get away.…” He winces, shaking his head at the memory.
“Thank god Brian was at the controls. He saw what was happening to me. We were still a hundred feet above the water when I started unbuckling my harness. I had to do something. Try to draw his fire. Something. And then I’m falling and I’m thinking, did I really just jump? Brian told me yesterday he dropped altitude as fast as he could when he realized what I was doing. He thinks I went out around fifty or sixty feet. I barely remember getting shot. I don’t remember hitting the water. And then my arms took me to you.”
We share a long look before a grim smile settles across my face. “It probably would have been a lot easier for you to fall in love with someone else, huh?”
He sits back as he regards me, considering the question far longer than I would have liked.
“Maybe,” he answers finally.
I flinch at the response.
“But it wouldn’t have been real.” He leans forward and his eyes are doing the crawl-inside-my-soul thing again. “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t difficult to watch someone shooting at you, but at the same time, when the going gets tough, there’s no one I’d rather have at my side. So yeah, it might not be easy. But it’ll be real. And I want that. I’ve wanted that for a long time.”
He cups my chin with his bandaged palm, and my vision goes blurry, the moisture spilling over and trickling down my face. He leans forward, touching his lips to mine—a salty kiss, but the sweetest I’ve ever experienced.
49
The knock on the door startles us both. I reach for his hand.
“Mind if we come in, ma’am?”
It’s Lego.
“No, please come in,” I say.
Lego and Messy push through the curtain, dressed in their summer white uniforms, clean, crisp, and polished. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them out of their flight suits, so this is a shock.
“What the hell, sir,” Lego says. “Are you makin’ the lieutenant cry?”
“We can take care of him, you know, ma’am,” Messy says.
“Yeah, his sorry SEAL ass ain’t a match for us,” Lego says.
I look at Eric. “They know?”
“They saw me jump from the helicopter. They said a real pilot would never jump from his aircraft.” He laughs. “And with all they’ve been through, I figured I could let them in on the secret.”
“So how are you?” I ask. “I was so worried. Did the jump go okay? Were you hurt?”
“Do you believe this shit?” Lego says, looking at Messy. “She’s worried about our candy-ass jump. A jump that wasn’t even a jump. More like a step.”
“Ma’am, I’m so sorry,” Messy says seriously. “I never would have forgiven myself if you hadn’t gotten out.”
“You were brilliant, Joe,” I say. “Just brilliant.”
“I almost got you killed, ma’am. That’s not so brilliant. I thought we’d all jump out, he’d take the controls, and then botch the landing later. But, my god. A buttonhook?”
“We had no idea you were planning something like that,” Lego says. “We were just floating there with our mouths open. That was, bar none, the most unbelievable maneuver we have ever seen.”
“Bar none,” Messy says. “And even with you ending in a hover and all, I just didn’t think our Aussie bad boy would be that … well, bad. I thought he’d at least be able to hold it long enough for you to get out, but good god.”
“Either that, or she’s just that good,” Lego says. “I don’t know, Mess, I think it’s a little of both.”
They nod in agreement.
“So look at you two,” I say. “You clean up nice.”
“Yeah, you won’t see this too often,” Lego says.
“Fuck, we’ve been meetin’ with the JAGs and the CIA and shit,” Messy says.
“Guess our statements don’t count if we’re in flight suits,” Lego says.
“Well, I think it’s nice,” I say. “You’re a handsome lot.”
“That’s right kind of you, ma’am,” Lego says.
“So when are you gettin’ outta here?” Messy asks.
I look to Eric.
“That’s a good question,” Eric says. “I know I’m supposed to be here another three or four days at least, so I’d expect probably the same for Sara.”
“Well, just get back as soon as you can, all right?” Messy says.
“Yeah, it’s gonna suck not having our favorite pilot on the flight schedule,” Lego says. “Although, you have someone else who’s gainin’ on ya for favorite pilot status.”
“I do?”
“Does she know, sir?” Messy asks.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Know what?” I say.
“Maybe we should mosey on outta here, Kyle, so she can see her next visitor,” Messy says.
“You know, I think I’ll mosey with you,” Eric says, pushing himself up. For the first time, I notice his crutches leaning on the foot of the bed. Messy grabs them and hands them to Eric.
“Thanks,” Eric says. “Come on, guys.”
“See ya soon, ma’am,” Lego says.
“Yeah, you take care,” Messy says.
I look to Eric in question. “I’ll be back in just a minute,” he says.
I push myself up, not feeling any pain in my leg. I give a glance to the IV bag, wondering what’s dripping in there.
“May I come in?” Commander Claggett asks.
“Yes, sir, please.”
Like Lego and Messy, he wears his summer whites. He must be giving statements, as well. Wait a minute. Giving statements …
“May I?” he asks, pointing to the chair next to me. He continues to look down as he sits, his hands clasped together.
“Sara,” he starts, but stumbles over the syllables.
It’s the first time I’ve ever heard him say my name.
“This is going to be harder than I thought,” he says, looking up.
“Sir, I’m so sor—”
“No. Please don’t. I’m the one who needs to apologize.” He leans back heavily in the chair. “I’m sorry. For everything. You’ve taken so much shit from me … all because I couldn’t—”
He stops and wipes his face. His light brown hair has been freshly cut, and to anyone else, he would look pressed and clean in his neat, white uniform. But his tortured eyes tell a different story. His razor-sharp outward appearance harbors a wounded soul.
“I never allowed myself—” He looks to the overhead, his quavering lips clamped together. “I … I couldn’t let her go,” he says, his eyes returning to mine. “I don’t know how to let her go.”
He’s blurry in my vision now. I don’t even bother wiping my tears, as it would be a fruitless endeavor.
“So I have a lot to work out,” he says. “Captain Magruder is allowing me to take some leave so I can get my head together. But I want you to know, it’ll be different going forward. You certainly don’t deserve to be treated the way I’ve treated you. Kara would have my ass if she knew.” He laughs lightly, but the tears are brimming. He looks away, trying to keep it together.
“I wish there was something I could do, sir.”
&nb
sp; He returns his glassy eyes to mine. “Well, you can start by calling me Nick … if you want.”
I nod.
“And you can make the most of the time you have with Lieutenant Marxen.”
My breath catches. How did he…?
“I recognized it the first time I saw you together on the Lake Champlain. I saw how he looked at you and I remember looking at Kara the same way.”
I wipe my eyes, my heart wrenching.
“Anyhow, hang on to that. It’s a special feeling that not too many people get to experience.”
I’m going to have to ask for a new pillowcase, since mine is now soaked.
“Can I get you…?” He points to the tissue box.
I nod and he crosses the room to the small sink. He grabs the box, places it on the bed, and grabs a tissue for himself.
“I probably need this more than you,” he says with a small laugh before blowing his nose.
I smile, realizing that the surreal nature of this moment far surpasses any of my surreal moments with Eric.
“You’re in your whites,” I say. “Was that you in five four?”
He nods.
“Really? And you were flying?”
He nods again.
“You were amazing! I never knew you could fly like that. And you flew into machine-gun fire—”
“Yeah, the maintenance officer’s pissed. Bullet holes all over the airframe.”
“I can imagine,” I say, looking into his light brown eyes—brave eyes, courageous eyes. “You’re the reason we’re still alive—Eric and I.”
“It was the least I could do. I sort of owed you.”
“Well, consider us square.”
He looks at me with an expression I’ve never seen before. Like he’s seeing me for the first time. And I have to admit, I probably carry the same expression.
“I need to get going,” he says finally. He rises and starts to walk away, but turns. His lips spread into a smile. “I have an award recommendation to write.”
I sink into my pillow as I watch him leave. I don’t know if I can handle any more emotional upheaval today. I think I’m tapped out.
“What do you mean, I can’t see her!” Em’s voice grows louder as she nears the room.
“Rest, my ass! That girl is tough as nails! Not like your milk toast–loving jet jocks around here!”
“Lieutenant, please.”
“Please, nothing! I need to see her now! I will raise holy fuckin’ hell around here if you don’t let me in!”
“All right, ma’am,” a sailor’s voice says. “Five minutes.”
“That’s more like it!”
She bursts in with enough energy to cure ten of me. And she’s in summer whites.
Summer whites? “Were you…?”
“Was I what? You’re looking at me like I’m wearing one of your goddamn long-sleeved shirts!”
“Were you in five four?”
“Duh! ’Bout got my ass shot off trying to find you!”
“You were there…”
“Hell, yeah, I was there! You think I was gonna let Commander Nick fly off all by his lonesome?”
I shrug.
“You never told me you were being dragged into shit like this,” she says accusingly.
“They told me not to tell anyone. I’m sorry, Em.”
“See, this is what happens when you saddle up with a badass boyfriend. These things never work out.”
“Badass boyfriend? What do you—”
“Hello! He’s a SEAL! God almighty, you’re with a SEAL!”
I stifle the grin that threatens as Eric silently enters the room behind her.
“He jumped out of his helicopter, Sara, at like a hundred feet! Holy crap! You do not need to be with a guy like that. Remember, I know these things.”
“But he saved my life, Em.”
“I know, I know, I know!” she says, grabbing at her hair. “That’s the worst part! God, all the romantic shit happens to you! I can’t stand it! He jumped out of a helicopter for you! Aghh! I want a guy like that!”
“But you just said that was a bad idea.”
“I lied! Every girl wants the badass guy! It rarely works out, but who cares! If they’re jumping out of helicopters for you, then what the fuck! We should all be so lucky!”
“Em, you’re insane.”
“It rarely works out?” Eric says.
“Ah, fuck,” Em says, turning to look behind her. “Oh, and look, you have matching bullet wounds. Seriously?”
“So does that go in our favor or work against us?” Eric asks, hopping toward me.
“Well, let’s see,” she says. “The couple that rides together in the fast lane, danger at every turn. Life-and-death experiences tend to draw those kinds together. But when the adrenaline runs out and you’re sitting on your porch in rocking chairs someday … I don’t see it lasting at that point.”
Eric and I share an incredulous look.
“You just heal up fast and get back to the ship so I can have some, you know, details. I need all of them,” she says, glancing askance at Eric and then back to me.
“It was great to see you, Em,” I say. “And, thanks.”
She looks at me for a long moment, and then, to my utter surprise, leans over and kisses me on the forehead. “You scared the shit out of me, Sara Denning,” she says, with tears in her eyes. “No more of this, okay?”
She turns to Eric and points at him. “Okay?”
She doesn’t bother to wait for a response, but rushes out, almost knocking Eric over in the process.
“So how come the sailor outside didn’t give you any trouble about coming to see me? Em had to resort to threats.”
“Probably because I wield a set of crutches and he knew I wasn’t afraid to use them,” he says, arriving at my side. “Are the pain meds keeping up?”
“Yeah, actually, I’m feeling okay.”
“Any chance you’d be up for one more visitor?”
“I have another visitor?”
“Only if you’re up for it.”
“Well, of course, except I think I’ve seen everyone.”
“Hold on just one second,” he says.
He moves agilely across the room, even on crutches, but when he returns, he follows the flight surgeon, who is pushing a wheelchair. My mouth drops open.
“Animal?”
I can’t believe he’s sitting up. How is this possible?
“Sara, this is Commander Bennett, the flight surgeon who operated on you,” Eric says by way of introduction to the man holding the handles of the wheelchair.
“Nice to meet you, sir,” I say.
“It’s great to meet you, as well,” he says. “I’m also the doc who operated on this gentleman,” he says, motioning to Animal. “The one who should not be out of his bed now but who threatened to slit my throat in the middle of the night if I didn’t let him come see you.”
I look at Animal in bewilderment.
“I said he has five minutes,” Commander Bennett says. He walks around to the front of the wheelchair, leaning over so Animal can see him directly. “And not one second more.”
Animal rolls his eyes.
“I’ll be back to get him, Sara, and then I’ll come check on you.”
Commander Bennett takes his leave and my eyes move back to Animal, who’s dressed in a hospital gown, a large blanket covering his torso. Tubes run from under the blanket and connect to an IV bag hanging from a long silver pole attached to the wheelchair above him. His tangled black hair remains in its normal messy state. And everything about him looks tired—his body took a huge beating—but his steel-gray eyes are as sharp as ever.
I look to Eric and back to Animal. “We’re quite the sorry lot, aren’t we?”
Animal starts to laugh, but grimaces in the process.
“Sir, you should be in bed. I mean—”
“I should be dead.”
His penetrating gaze is unwavering.
I look down, nerv
ously spreading the sheets across my lap. The memories, the images—of him in particular—are difficult. It’s also hard for me to bear this drawn-out silence.
I take a chance and look up. His eyes haven’t moved. This time, I hold his gaze and I realize, finally, this is Animal’s way of saying thank you. And he’s delivering the sentiment in the most meaningful and heartfelt way I can imagine.
“So how are you feeling?” I ask.
“I’m managing. And you?”
I peer up to my IV bag and back to him. “Whatever they’ve got going in there is working pretty good.”
He stares at me with a heavy dose of contemplation, opening his mouth and then closing it again, as if he has a lot to say and he’s trying to pick what comes out first.
“An AFCS-off buttonhook?” His exasperated tone is one of those are-you-kidding-me reprimands.
“Well, you taught me,” I say lamely.
“And the attitude? Where did you learn that? ‘Just shoot me and get it over with’? Who the hell taught you that?”
“Well, giving in to Australian psychopaths is for pussies, wouldn’t you say?”
A satisfied smile spreads across his face. “A chip off the ol’ block.”
“Uh-oh,” Eric says.
“See,” Animal says to Eric. “I told you she was perfect for this.”
“I already knew she was perfect,” Eric says with a sweet glance in my direction.
“So … this guy?” Animal asks, motioning to Eric.
“Yeah,” I say demurely.
Animal turns his head back and forth, looking between us several times, deliberating the arrangement.
“He isn’t good enough for you,” he states.
“Uh … thanks for the backup,” Eric says.
“Anytime.”
“All right, time’s up!” Commander Bennett says, entering the room. He grabs the handles to the wheelchair and begins to turn Animal around.
“Well, I’ll see you around, sir.”
“Hell, yeah! We’ve got more training to do!” He nods in triumph to Eric.
“Max is saying good-bye now,” Commander Bennett announces, and without further ado, pushes him through the curtain and out the door.
“You’re probably tapped out on visitors,” Eric says. “Why don’t I give you some space.”
“No!” I say emphatically. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come out that way.”
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