by Nina Bruhns
“Abby, you’re safe and under the protection of the US Navy.”
“Captain, please.” Lieutenant Saunders moved to her other side. “Abby, take a drink of water.” He lifted her head, pressed the cup to her lips. She tried to guzzle it, but Larry pulled it away before she downed it all. “Slowwww now. Nice and easy, or you’ll be sick.”
“How long was I out there?” She sounded breathless.
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Eric said, as she kept seeking him out, her eyes on him. She shook her head, and creases appeared between her brows. She was obviously thinking. Eric watched her eyes, studying her to see if this was a trick, a game.
“I don’t know. I couldn’t stay awake.” Her voice shook, and she struggled to pull away, to sit up.
“Whoa, don’t move.” Eric held her shoulders down. “No, just lie still, Abby.”
“Abby, I need to get you down and take a look at you, make sure you’re okay,” Larry said. Two crewmen set a litter beside the captain, and he moved back and watched as they lifted Abby and the blanket fell away. He heard the outburst behind him, but that was nothing compared to his own shock as he stared at the swollen belly of a very pregnant woman.
“Where are you taking me?” Her eyes widened with fear as the two sailors adjusted straps to secure her to the litter. She was starting to fight them, and she was very afraid.
Eric moved in and put his face close to hers. “Abby, I need you to look at me. Calm down, you’re safe. Right now, we’re strapping you to the litter to move you to sickbay. I need you to tell me you understand. We’re not going to hurt you.”
She searched his eyes with hers, which appeared so vulnerable and innocent, yet at the same time, it was as if she’d seen everything horrible in the world. She grabbed his shirt and fisted her hand in the damp cotton. He didn’t try to pry her hand away. He covered it with his and held it against him, pressing his other hand over her forehead and smoothing back her hair.
“Take a breath. Slow down. Let it out slowly. Come on. That’s it, good girl,” he said. She shivered and then glanced at the doctor on the other side. “Keep your eyes on me, Abby.”
She was absolutely petrified, like a woman on the edge, and for the first time he felt as if he needed to talk her down. She stared at him, watched him, blinked, and breathed out hard again and again until he felt her hand relax on him.
“Good girl. Okay, let’s move her,” he said as he stood up, slipping her hand from his shirt and nodding to the crewmen. They lifted her, and she started to sob. “Abby, I’m right behind you.” Eric tried to get her to look at him and smiled to calm her so she didn’t become hysterical. She was obviously afraid of something. Eric touched her foot so she would know he was there and walked beside the stretcher until they reached the hatch.
“Everyone, back to your stations. Show’s over,” Joe ordered the remaining crew.
“What do you make of this, Doc?”
“Don’t know. I think someone worked her over. By the looks of her dehydration and being pregnant… well, let me have a look, but just know we’re not equipped for this, not here.”
“Got it, Doc.” Eric fell in beside the doctor behind the stretcher, boots clanging on the metal floor of the passageway.
“Watch your side,” one of the crewmen shouted to the other as they turned and lifted the stretcher through the hatch and into sickbay.
Eric gestured for the doctor to hang back so Abby couldn’t hear. “Just say the word, and we fly her off.”
Larry paused and studied the captain for a second. His freckled face and round cheeks showed his worry, and he inclined his head, then stepped into sickbay. “Put her on the table,” he ordered as Abby was unstrapped and moved. The two young sailors stared at Abby, who was lying helpless.
“That’ll be all.” Eric dismissed them so they wouldn’t linger anymore.
“Lieutenant Lynn, we need some help here,” Larry said.
Todd Lynn brushed past the sailors as he stepped into sickbay. He was another tall, good-looking sailor, with a million-dollar smile all the ladies swooned for when he walked into a room. “What happened to her?” he asked.
“She was found in a dinghy like this. Let’s get these wet clothes off her.”
Lynn used a pair of scissors to cut off the clothes and dumped them in a heap on the floor, covering her with a sheet. Eric didn’t turn away, although watching her naked before a sheet was draped over her had rocked him. She was staring at him again, as if she was reaching out for his hands.
They checked her blood pressure, and the doctor was talking to her. “Where does it hurt, Abby? She’s got heavy bruising around her ribs. Let’s roll her on her side.”
“Here. It hurts here.” She touched her chest and moaned when they turned her.
“I know it hurts, Abby.” The doctor placed the stethoscope in his ears and listened as he leaned down. “Take a deep breath, Abby. Hold it.” She scrunched her face. Larry pulled the stethoscope off and looped it around his neck. “Sounds rough. What’s the BP?”
“One-fifty over eighty-five. Got some bruising here, too, around her kidneys.” Eric walked around and saw the purplish bruising on her back. “Some older bruising here, too.”
“I’m going to check your ribs here.” Larry slid his hand under her breast and probed.
“Ohhh!” she cried out.
“I know, Abby.” Larry lifted his chin and glanced at the captain. “Bruised for sure. Hasn’t punctured the lungs, though. The ribs may be cracked. Abby, how far along are you in your pregnancy?”
Abby was still on her side, but she turned her head and watched Eric. “I’m not sure. I think I have another three weeks.”
“Okay, on your back again.”
They rolled her, and the lieutenant placed a towel over her breast and pulled the sheet down. The doctor probed her swollen belly. “When was the last time you felt the baby move, Abby?”
She shook her head. She scrunched her eyes and searched out Eric again. “I don’t know. It’s been a while. Is my baby okay?”
“Right now I just want you to stay calm. I’m checking everything out, and in a minute we’re going to listen to the baby’s heart.”
Larry raised his head and gave the captain a look. Eric knew he was worried and wanted to make sure the lady stayed calm, so he stepped around the doctor and stood beside Abby.
“Let the doc finish his exam before you panic, okay? Just relax.”
She reached for his hand. Hers was so tiny and frail, and his big one all but swallowed it. She turned her head into his hand, brushing the side of it. He tried to picture her without the bruises, and to him she was stunning, innocent, but what the hell was she was doing in the middle of a war zone?
“Abby, I’m going to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. This may be a little cold.” The doctor placed the stethoscope in a few spots on her belly and listened, then stared at his watch as if counting. “The baby sounds good. That’s a good thing, Abby.” He draped the stethoscope around his neck and patted her arm.
She started crying, and she wouldn’t let go of Eric’s hand. “I’m sorry.” She suddenly looked so embarrassed as she dropped her eyes and then started to pull her hand away, helplessly wiping her tears and her nose.
“Abby, here’s a Kleenex.” Lynn handed her a couple, and she took them and blew her nose.
“Captain, can I have a word?” the doc asked as he tucked the stethoscope back into a secured drawer.
Eric watched Abby as she lay there, looking so lost and vulnerable, her eyes puffy and red from tears. At the same time, she was doing everything she could to hide her humiliation. He’d seen rock bottom many times, and he recognized when someone was there.
“Abby, I’ll be right back. I need to have a word with the doc.” He settled his hand on her bare shoulder and didn’t miss the way she reached out to him with her eyes but then blinked away as if ashamed. Just from that touch, he sensed her fear, her need, and a shadow of something that had her pulling away.
“Lieutenant, check her vitals again in a few minutes and see if you can get some juice into her.”
“Yes, sir.”
“So, Doc, tell me: What’s the verdict?”
Larry squeezed the back of his neck, wincing. “She’s extremely dehydrated, and I suspect her body is breaking down protein, which is a problem for the baby. However, once we get her hydrated and some food into her, we should see an improvement.” He crossed his arms and glanced at Abby and the lieutenant, who was checking her vitals again, and rubbed his jaw before crossing his arms, turning away. “I am concerned about the bruised ribs. She’s tender, but I don’t think they’re broken or cracked. Her right ankle is slightly swollen, and from the looks of things, I would say there’s a mild sprain. It’s definitely not broken.”
Eric was a tall man, so he could easily watch Abby as Lieutenant Saunders described her injuries. He just couldn’t reconcile in his mind how someone could beat a woman—how could someone drive their fists into a pregnant woman? But he’d seen so much ugliness that he’d given up trying to understand the monsters that lurked inside so many, leading them to do the most despicably evil things.
“Whoever did this didn’t just slap her around; they used their fists on her,” Saunders said. “She was beaten pretty bad, and it doesn’t appear to be the first time, either. The baby appears to be okay. Heartbeat’s strong. It looks like her face got the worst of it.”
A dark purple bruise outlined her cheek and slightly swollen left eye, the same collage of colors as her jaw. Her lips were dry and cracked, the right side of her lower lip swollen with dried blood. Eric had to force himself to look away as he felt a rage building inside him. Just let me find who did this and give me five minutes alone with the bastard. I’ll make him pay.
Eric was far from a saint. He’d been called the devil himself by some, and he loved a good fight. He’d been in so many, driving his fists into lowlife scum, but it went against everything he believed in to hit a woman. Any man that would stoop so low was not a man, in his book. Men were supposed to love and protect women, not use them as punching bags. He had seen it so many times, drunken sailors assaulting their girlfriends, and, as he thought about it, he still remembered the last time he’d tried to step in, back in homeport, while stationed in San Diego.
One night, he had been at the local pub with a few friends. They’d met for a night of pool to catch up and shoot the shit when a young, arrogant sailor started arguing with a young girl and then slapped her across the face. One minute, Eric was holding his pool cue. The next, he’d snapped it in half across that sailor, yanked him by the collar, and pounded his face with two sharp jabs until he’d fallen to the floor, blood trickling from his mouth. Eric still couldn’t believe how that girl had reacted. She’d screamed and dropped to her knees, hovering over that useless prick and pleading with Eric to leave him alone because it was her fault—she’d provoked him.
The sailor had pushed her away, and Eric’s friends grabbed his arms and said, “Let’s go.”
Eric had jerked away and jabbed his finger in the girl’s face, shouting, “Get yourself together! What’s wrong with you, letting some guy knock you around? Don’t you have any self-respect?” He then leaned down at the sailor, who tried to get up until he met the monster who stared back at him, and Eric became aware of the sailor’s reaction to him: His eyes widened, and fear or perhaps recognition of who Eric was obviously cut through his drunkenness. “If I ever catch you hitting another woman again, I will take you out back and kick the crap out of you... you piece of shit!”
He didn’t know why thinking back on that incident bothered him so, but he also couldn’t shake it off. As he stared at Abby, he didn’t like one bit of where his thoughts were going. Would she defend whoever did this to her, too? “I need to talk to her, find out what the hell she was doing in the middle of a war zone dressed as she was, in the shape she’s in,” Eric snapped.
The doctor shook his head. “Captain, let me get her stabilized, calmed down, rehydrated, get some food into her. I know you need to speak with her.”
“When?”
“Couple of hours.”
Eric walked around the doctor. Abby’s eyes were drooping.
“Captain, we need to get her moved to one of the beds.” Lieutenant Lynn glanced at the doc, waiting for his okay. “Abby, they’re going to move you.” Eric touched her arm, which was resting on the table beside her.
She turned her face up to Eric and then started to get up.
“I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you,” Eric said.
“You want to talk to me, don’t you?” she asked bravely, but the tremble in her voice betrayed the strength she was trying to exude. He had to wonder, really, who and what she was.
“I do. But don’t worry about that now. The doc and lieutenant here are going to get you settled.” He watched her, and she said nothing, staring at him unforgivingly until she dropped her gaze.
“Okay,” she said. The response seemed so unreal and artificial, as if she had said it because he expected it.
Eric turned to leave, but something stopped him, making him turn and watch. What was he looking for? He didn’t know what it was, but there was something about her that bothered him, something that wasn’t right.
“Abby, we’re going to help you sit up. Let’s take it slow, and then we’ll get you settled in a bunk,” Larry said.
Eric listened to the doctor as he and the lieutenant helped her sit, and she glanced over at him in the doorway as if she knew he was standing there watching her. There was a sharp connection between them in that second that had his heart thudding as if the earth had just opened up and something was reaching up to pull him under. Despite every dark, murderous, ugly thing he’d seen and been part of and tasted over the years, this situation absolutely rocked him.
It was he who turned away, he who shut the door and stood in the empty passageway and breathed to clear his head and shift his thoughts to where they needed to be: here, commanding this ship and meeting with Joe, the one man he could trust to do some serious digging and unravel the mystery surrounding this woman’s dramatic arrival.
Saved: Chapter Two
There was something about that first step through the steel gray of the hatch and onto the deck, at least for Eric. His body was jolted by the power and sway beneath his feet, seeing the open water, feeling the spray from the sea. The scent of the humid salty air sharpened his mind as the destroyer once again resumed patrol in the Gulf. He realized everything moved on, continued, as there was no time to sit and absorb what had happened. It was life, and he dealt with it. He did what he had to do and moved on. He based his entire existence of walking, sleeping, and running his ship on that motto, except this time he’d been shaken by the sight of Abby and plagued by her haunting blue eyes. They seemed to reach inside him as though he’d been plugged into a socket, and it rattled him. He should have just walked away, let the doctor deal with her, and then gotten her off this ship. His ship. He didn’t want or need any distractions. Drama was all around them, and they didn’t need any more, because something this close to home was a distraction none of them could afford.
Two uniformed crewmen were at the boat launch. One was kneeling, running his hands over the dark rubber, while the other was complaining and swearing over the shit job they’d been assigned. Normally, Eric would have kicked their asses and reprimanded them, but he found himself just watching. They had no idea he was even standing there. It was amazing sometimes, the difference in the crew, how they responded when he wasn’t around.
The pounding of feet behind Eric had him turning to Joe, who strode confidently toward him.
“Captain,” he said in his deep voice, and the two sailors jumped. The tall, lanky one flushed. “You two find anything?” Joe asked the sailors as he gripped his hands behind his back.
“No, nothing on here, nothing in it,” the sailor still on his knees muttered.
“Pack it up, then,” Joe ordered. �
��You three, back to your stations,” he shouted at the midshipmen who lingered aft of the launch. Joe was a tall man, with light brown hair, and, as he’d heard whispered by many of the female crew, there was something attractive about his boyish smile, restrained charm, and the way he genuinely cared about everyone. The fact was that half the female crew were panting after him and ogling him when he wasn’t looking. Eric knew Joe had the women dropping all around him, but Joe wasn’t the flirt some men were in the Navy. He always made it known he was happily married to his first love. Maybe that was why women still pursued him, because of his loyalty.
Eric had known Joe for years—he was the only person Eric would trust with his life. “So what did you find out?” Eric asked as he stared back out at the miles of open water.
“Not much. There’s been no report of any boats in the area: fishing, downed ship, nothing,” Joe said as he shook his head. “It’s as if she just appeared out of nowhere, which is damn odd considering where we are. You talk to her yet?”
Eric pressed his lips together and shook his head. “No. Later.”
“How is she?”
“Pretty banged up. Someone did a number on her, bruised ribs, dehydrated. Doc’s getting some food into her now. I’ll go back in a couple of hours.”
“What about the baby?”
Eric squeezed the back of his neck with his hand. He’d never thought of having kids, because he’d need a woman for that. And with his track record… it would be a one-way road to heartbreak. He wasn’t going there. But being faced with a young pregnant woman on his ship was doing all kinds of things to his peace of mind and taking him places he didn’t want to go. He certainly didn’t want to admit to anyone how much it bothered him. “Doc said its heartbeat is strong. He doesn’t want her getting worked up, wants her to rest for a few hours.”
Joe squinted and shook his head. “Captain, do you want me to get a hold of Intel, make some inquiries about her?”
Even in the humidity, Eric felt a bone-deep chill creep up his spine. Just the mention of Intel brought a wave of uneasiness that sat like a lead ball in his stomach. At times, they were the scum of the earth, feeding you what they wanted you to know, sharing only what was needed. The last time they intercepted a boatload of guns, one of his crew had been shot. Apparently, whoever had been getting the Intel wanted it to happen, but they had conveniently forgotten to inform him. He hated their games and how they operated. He stared down at the swell of waters below and then glanced aft to view the wake of the ship before squeezing the rail with his large hand. “Make it un-official, Joe. Anti-official. I want to talk to Abby first and get a better sense of the situation. There’s something about this that just isn’t right.”