by Amy Ruttan
He brushed her hand away. “I’m fine.” He took a deep breath.
“You look like you’re in pain.”
“I said I was fine!” He straightened up, putting all his weight on his prosthetic and working through the pain. “I won’t give you an easy ride, but I also won’t be so cruel. I realize that my actions are detrimental to your mental health.”
The words “mental health” struck a chord with her. He could tell by the way the blood drained from her face. He knew they would hurt. In her file he’d read that her first commendation had been turned down due to her being unfit emotionally. Though he didn’t have the details as to why, that was unimportant. His barb worked and he regretted it.
“My mental health is fine,” she said quietly.
“Is it?”
She didn’t glance at him as she slapped the emergency button, the elevator starting again. The elevator stopped on the next floor and the doors opened. She stepped out. The confidence, the strength which had been with her only a moment ago, had vanished.
And, though he should be pleased that he’d got to her, he wasn’t. Thorne hated himself for doing that to her.
It’s for the best. She’s dangerous to you.
“Thank you for your time, Captain. I will see you on Saturday at zero nine hundred hours.” The doors closed and she was gone and Thorne was left with a bitter taste in his mouth. His small victory wasn’t so sweet.
CHAPTER THREE
“AHA!” ERICA PULLED out her sneakers from the box. “It’s been a long time.”
Great. You’re talking to sneakers now.
Maybe she was overtired. As she glanced around the room at all the boxes she realized how disorganized her life had become.
It wasn’t many boxes, but she didn’t really like living in a state of chaos. She’d gone from the USNV Hope to San Diego and within forty-eight hours she’d been posted to Okinawa.
If she kept busy she didn’t notice it so much, but now that she had some free time it irked her.
She’d rather be busy than not. Relaxation was all well and good, but she had a job to do. She stared at her bright-blue sneakers with the neon yellow laces. Although she loved running, it was not what she wanted to be doing today.
Erica would rather be in the hospital removing a gall bladder. She’d even take paperwork.
This was a new posting and she had a lot to prove.
Not only to herself, but to her comrades.
Damn Captain Wilder.
Questioning her mental health like that. How dared he?
Are you surprised?
He was probably just like Captain Seaton—threatened by her. She cursed Captain Seaton for being a major puenez, or “stinkbug”, as her mamère often said about men who were scared of strong women. She was also mad at herself for being duped by Captain Seaton and letting him affect her career.
And then she chuckled to herself for condemning her superior who had given her the day off. Most people wouldn’t be complaining about that and she found it humorous that she was condemning the man again.
Hadn’t she done enough damage when she’d had to take his leg after it had got infected?
The guilt about ending his career as a SEAL ate at her, but not her decision to take his leg. There was no help for that. He would’ve died.
Perhaps he would’ve preferred death?
“Your father wanted to die and the Navy gave him the means to do so.”
Erica shuddered, thinking about her mother’s vitriol, because it made her think of that last moment she’d seen her father—the haunted look in his eyes as he’d shipped out.
“Be good, Erica. You’re my girl.”
He’d held her tight, but it hadn’t been the same embrace she’d been used to. Three days later, he’d gone AWOL. Two weeks later, after a dishonorable discharge, he’d ended his life.
You did right by Thorne. Just like the surgeons saved your father’s life the first time he was injured. You saved Thorne’s life.
It was her job to save lives, not end them. His desire to die was not her concern any more. She’d saved his life and they’d taken him away. Captain Thorne Wilder was no longer her concern.
She’d done her duty by him and that was how she slept at night.
Erica sat down on her couch and slipped on her running shoes, lacing them up. There wasn’t much she could do. She wasn’t on duty today, unless there was an emergency, so she might as well make the best of it. Besides, running along a beach might be more challenging than running laps on a deck.
She stretched and headed out to a small tract of beach near her quarters. Though the sky was a bit dark, the sea wasn’t rough, and the waves washing up on shore would make her feel like she was out on the open sea. Back on the Hope.
As she jogged out toward the beach she got to see more of the base. It was pretty active for being on such a small island far off the mainland of Japan.
The hospital was certainly more active than being on the Hope. Unless they were responding to a disaster, there were stretches at sea where they weren’t utilizing their medical skills. Those stretches were filled with rigorous drills and simulations.
As she headed out onto the beach, she followed what appeared to be a well-worn path along the edge so she wouldn’t have to run in the sand.
Erica opted to go off the path and headed out onto the sand. It slowed her down, but she didn’t care. It would work her muscles more.
Besides, even though it was a bit overcast, it was still a beautiful day on the beach. The palm trees were swaying and the waves lapping against the shore made her smile.
As she rounded the bend to a small cove, she realized she wasn’t the only one who was on the beach at this moment and it made her stop in her tracks.
Thorne.
He was about fifteen feet away from her, in casual clothes, his arms crossed and his gaze locked on the water. She followed where he was looking and could see swimmers not too far out in the protected cove.
I have to get out of here.
She turned to leave but, as if sensing someone was watching him, his gaze turned to her. Even from a distance she could feel his stare piercing through her protective walls. A stare which would make any lesser man or woman cringe from its hard edge, but not her.
Of course, now she couldn’t turn and leave. He’d seen her, there was no denying that. He walked toward her fluidly as if there was no prosthesis there. So different from yesterday when he’d moved stiffly, his chiseled face awash with pain.
His face was expressionless, controlled and devoid of emotion.
So unlike the first time she’d met him, when he’d begged her not to take his leg and made her heart melt for him just a little bit.
“Commander, what a surprise to find you here,” he said pleasantly, but she could detect the undertone of mistrust. He was questioning why and she had the distinct feeling her appearance was an unwelcome one.
“It’s my day off and I thought a run along the beach would be nice.”
It was nice until I ran into you.
“Never heard someone mention a run as nice.” He raised an eyebrow.
Erica gritted her teeth. “I haven’t seen much of the base since I first arrived. I’m usually sleeping when the sun is out.”
Ha ha! Take that.
He nodded, but those blue eyes still held her, keeping her grounded to the spot as he assessed her. No wonder he’d been a Navy SEAL; apparently he could read people, make them uneasy and do it all with a cold, calculating calm. Even though it annoyed Erica greatly that it was directed at her at this moment, she couldn’t help but admire that quality.
It was why it made the SEALs the best of the best.
Only, she wasn’t some insurgent being interrogated or some new recruit. There was a reason she’d been one of the top students in her class at Annapolis.
She wasn’t weak. She was tough and stalwart and could take whatever was dished out. She’d told him as much.
T
his she could handle. It didn’t unnerve her. When he’d shown that moment of weakness, begging for his leg, that had shaken her resolve.
“No,” he finally said, breaking the tension. “I suppose you haven’t seen much of the base.”
Erica nodded. “No, I haven’t, but I’m not complaining.”
A smile broke across his face, his expression softened. “I know you’re not.”
“What’s going on out there?” she asked.
“SEAL training,” he said and then shifted his weight, wincing.
“I didn’t know this base was equipped for that.”
“Yes. It’s where I did my training.” He cleared his throat. “I mean…”
“I knew you were a SEAL.” She held her breath.
He feigned surprise. Captain Wilder might be good at interrogating and striking fear into subordinates, but he wasn’t much of an actor. “How?”
Erica wanted to tell him it was because she’d been the one who’d operated on him—that he’d been on her ship—only she didn’t think that would go over too well. He was obviously hiding from her that he had a prosthesis, as if such a thing would make her think differently of him.
Did he think it was a sign of weakness? If he did, he was foolish, because Erica saw it as a sign of strength. A testament to his sacrifice for his country. Only she kept that thought to herself. She doubted he’d be overly receptive to it right now. The last thing she needed was to tick him off and have him state she was mentally unstable or something.
So instead she lied. “I looked up your record before I shipped out. I wanted to know who my commanding officer was in Okinawa.”
His gaze narrowed; he didn’t believe her. She could tell by the way he held himself, the way his brow furrowed. Only he wasn’t going to admit it. “Is that so?”
“How else would I know?” she countered.
“Of course, that would be the only way you’d know.” Thorne crossed his arms and turned back to look at the ocean. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m not out there swimming with them?”
“No,” Erica said.
He glanced over at her. “No?”
“With all due respect, Captain Wilder, that’s not my business.”
“Yet knowing I am a former SEAL was?”
“Any good officer worth their salt tries to find out who they’re serving under. The reasons you left the SEALs or aren’t active in missions any longer is not my concern. Some things are better left unsaid.”
His cheeks flushed crimson and she wondered if she’d pushed it too far.
“You’re right. Well, I may be retired from the SEALs, but I still oversee some of their training. Anything to keep involved.”
Erica nodded. “A fine thing to be involved with.”
Thorne smiled again, just briefly. “Well, I don’t want to keep you from your run. If you continue on down the beach, there’s another nice path which wraps around the hospital and forks, one path leading into the village and the other back to base. If you have the time, be sure to check out the village and in particular the temple.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
“When we’re off duty, you can call me Thorne.”
Now it was Erica’s turn to blush. It came out of the blue; it caught her off guard.
Maybe it was supposed to.
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”
“What harm is there in it?”
She didn’t see any harm. When she went on shore leave with other shipmates or was off duty she didn’t address them so formally. What was the difference here? The difference was she was never attracted to any of them, had never seen them so vulnerable and exposed.
“I’ll think about it.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I have to say, I’m hurt. Am I so monstrous?”
“No.” Erica grinned. “I only address my friends so informally.”
“I’m not your friend?”
Now it was her turn to cock an eyebrow. “Really? You’re asking me if we’re friends?”
“I guess I am.” He took a step closer to her and her pulse raced. She’d thought he was handsome when she’d first seen him, but that was when he’d been injured. Now he was healthy, towering over her and so close. She was highly attracted to him, she couldn’t deny that. He stirred something deep inside her, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.
Yearning.
There had been a couple other men since Captain Seaton, but not many, and none in the Navy. She didn’t have time or interest.
Until she met Thorne.
Thorne was dangerous and, being her commanding officer, he was very taboo.
“We barely know each other, Captain. How can we be friends?”
“Easy. We can start by using our given names. I’m Thorne.” And then he took her hand in his. It was strong and sent a shock of electricity through her.
Get a grip on yourself.
She needed to rein this in. This was how she’d fallen for Captain Seaton. He’d wooed her. She’d been blinded by hero worship, admiration, and she wouldn’t let that happen again.
“We’re not friends,” Erica said quickly.
“We can be.” His blue eyes twinkled mischievously. He was playing with her and she didn’t like it. Thorne ran so hot and cold. He was trying to manipulate her.
“I don’t think so, Captain.” She suppressed a chuckle of derision and jogged past him, laughing to herself as she continued her run down the beach and perfectly aware that his eyes were on her.
* * *
Thorne watched her jog away and he couldn’t help but admire her. Not many had stood up to him. He had the reputation of being somewhat of a jerk, to put it politely. He’d always been tough as nails. As Liam had always said. Yet Liam had gone straight into Special Ops and Thorne had become a medic. He wasn’t without feelings.
He hadn’t always been so closed off, but when you saw your identical twin brother lying broken on the ground after an insurgent attack, after he’d pushed you out of the way, then pieces of you died. Locking those parts of him away, the parts which still mourned his brother, was the only way to survive.
The only way to continue the fight, so that his brother’s death wasn’t in vain.
Thorne had hardened himself and, in doing so, had driven so many people away. They kept out of his way, they knew not to mess with him or challenge him. It was better that way. No one to care about. He didn’t deserve it.
Erica was different.
You knew that when you approved her request to come to Okinawa.
His commanding officer still talked about the courage it had taken to stand up to him during that covert operation. How Erica had been adamant that Thorne was to remain on the USNV Hope. It had impressed Mick and that was hard to do.
Perhaps in Erica he’d met his match?
She’s off-limits.
He needed that internal reminder that Erica was indeed off-limits. Thorne couldn’t let another person in. There was no room for someone else in his life, so he had to get all these foolish notions out of his head.
Except, that was hard to do when he saw her, because those hazy, jangled memories from that time flooded his dreams—only now she wasn’t just some ghost. The face was clear, tangible, and all he had to do was reach out and touch her to realize that his angel was indeed on Earth.
“Captain!” The shouts from the water caught his attention and he tore his gaze from Erica and out to sea.
The few men who had been doing their training were trying with futility to drag one of their comrades from the water, but the waves were making it difficult and the crimson streak following the injured man made Thorne’s stomach knot.
Shark.
It was one of the dangers of training in the sea, though attacks were rare.
His first instinct was to run into the fray to help, but he couldn’t step foot into water. His prosthesis had robotic components and it would totally fry his leg. He needed his prosthetic leg to continue his
job.
He was useless.
So useless.
He pulled out his phone and called for an ambulance, then ran after Erica, who wasn’t far away.
“Erica!” he shouted, each step causing pain to shoot up his thigh. He hadn’t run in so long. “Commander.”
Erica stopped and turned, her eyes wide and eyebrows arched with curiosity. Without having to ask questions, she looked past him to the blood in the water and men struggling to bring their friend safely ashore.
She ran straight to them, whipping off her tank top to use as a tourniquet, wading into the surf without hesitation to aid the victim, while all he could do was stand there and watch in envy.
Only for a moment, though, before he shook off that emotion.
He might not be able to help in the same way as Erica, but he’d do everything he could. As soon as they had the man out of the water and on the beach, Thorne dropped down on one knee to survey the damage to the man’s calf.
“What happened?” Thorne asked, not taking his eyes off the wound as Erica tightened the tourniquet made out of her Navy-issue tank top.
“We were swimming back in and Corporal Ryder fell behind. It was then he cried out. We managed to scare the shark off,” one of Corporal Ryder’s comrades responded.
“My leg!” Corporal Ryder screamed. “My leg is gone.”
Thorne’s throat constricted and his phantom leg twinged with agony, which almost caused him to collapse in pain.
You’re fine. Your leg is gone. There is no pain.
“Your leg is there, Corporal,” Erica responded. “You hear me? Your leg is there.”
Corporal Ryder howled in agony and then cursed before going into shock.
“Lie him down, he’s going into shock.” Thorne reached out and helped Erica get Corporal Ryder down.
Erica was helping the other recruits assess Corporal Ryder’s ABCs, the water still lapping against them as they worked on the leg, and Thorne stood there useless because he couldn’t get his prosthetic leg wet; the corporal was still half in the water.
“How bad?” Thorne directed his question to Erica.
“We can probably salvage the leg. We won’t know until we get him into surgery.”