by Calinda B
“Shouldn’t he be resting? Why is he standing at the parallel bars? You don’t want to walk a fracture.”
“It’s been a few weeks since the accident.” Dr. Johnson glared at the tall male. “He’s not supposed to be walking. But you can’t keep a good man down. He made his way in here and refused to sit down.”
“I’ll sit, I’ll sit,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. He laughed, as if it was no big deal, just proving what a badass he is.
“When Meghan gets back, she’ll have the new X rays she took this morning and put him through his paces. I’d like you to observe and assist.” The surgeon craned his neck to scrutinize the images more, minimized the screen and logged off. “I’ll leave you to it. I’ve got surgery in an hour and have to get over to the hospital. Sergeant Farrell, it’s always a pleasure to meet one of our own.” He nodded, leaving Beck alone with the sniper.
She felt a surge of panic, her adrenaline kicking up to a six cup espresso high.
“So,” the male said, giving Beck an easy, affable smile. “What’s got you hanging with my brother? Does he need some kind of therapy?” He smirked as if the answer was obvious, and not merely physical.
She blinked. “How do you know where and with whom I hang?” She logged back into the computer, pretending to scan his records—the medical records of former enlisted Sergeant Lawson Farrell, age thirty-three, USMC. Her mind became numb, completely unhelpful, as she sought ways, ideas, anything meaningful for dealing with Lawson.
Lawson’s lips curled into a cunning, calculated, secretive smile that made her want to either gasp or burn his smug smile from his face with a blowtorch. “My apologies. We weren’t properly introduced. Sergeant…” He smiled and shook his head. “Ah, I’m going to have to start getting used to my new title—former enlisted Marine Sergeant, Lawson Farrell.” He extended a beefy, glove covered hand in her direction.
A tiny star tattoo, no bigger than a beauty mark, had been scribed on his neck. When she ignored his intended handshake, staring at the computer, he scowled and said, “Once a Marine, always a Marine, though. There’s a considerable measure of earned respect.”
She wanted to say, “Once a Marine, now a murderer,” or “you lost my respect the minute your brother told me what you really are.” She didn’t want to piss him off, however. She needed to play this right. “What?” she said, pretending she hadn’t heard him. “Oh, my apologies. I’m so engrossed with your records, I spaced for a minute. What did you say your name is?”
“Former enlisted Marine Sergeant Farrell Lawson, at your service.” Again he proffered his hand, pasting on his most brilliant smile.
“That’s right. I thought that’s what you said but I wasn’t sure.” She reached out to shake his hand, but instead, he lifted her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her fingers. Ew. His lips reminded her of lizard skin, dry and scaly. Too much time in the desert.
“It’s a pleasure.” He looked into her eyes with a practiced gaze, meant to coax her panties off her recently waxed legs.
“Mm hmm,” she said, as brusquely as she could manage, tugging her hand free.
“And…” He lifted his eyebrows, grinning expectantly. “Your name?”
She cringed, not wanting him to know anything about her. “It’s Rebecca Tosetti.”
“How is it an Italian has such beautiful red hair?” He limped over to a chair and sat down.
“She just does.” Her eyes darted toward the door, hoping Meghan would return soon. “Let’s see your range of motion on this knee. We need to record a starting point.”
He gave her an amused look. “It’s in my records. Today’s not my first day in PT. It’s merely my first day with you.”
Duh. Get it together. Heat rolled off his virile form like a furnace. More like a cremation oven, Beck thought, her cheeks beginning to burn. “Of course. I simply want to record today’s range of motion. Sit over here on this exam table, please.”
“Are we going to play doctor and nurse? Role playing can be fun with the right person to play with.” He stood up, looming over her. “Like you. You’re tall. I love a tall woman, especially someone as gorgeous as you are.”
“We’re not going to play anything,” she said, ignoring his come on. “Sit.”
“I’m pretty sure I saw you. Wasn’t Zed training at the high school we attended? Pretty sure I saw you. Had a hard on for days.”
“What, you just happened to turn down the dead end road?” Shit, I just gave myself away. More chills raced up and down her spine. That was the day Zed blacked out on his bike. He thought he saw his brother with a rifle.
“Nah, more like out for a joy ride, looking for something to do. Only reminiscing. Remembering old times. It gets boring being away from combat. I’m used to constant action.”
“I’m sure you’ll find something to occupy yourself.”
“I’m sure I will.” Another practiced grin formed on his face. “You could help me, what do you say?”
The door swung open and Meghan strode in, saving Beck from having to answer. What did I mention to Reye about ‘guys like this?’ Something about how I can handle any guy?
Lawson immediately changed personas to that of a polite marine, not a rabid seducer. His face softened, his posture became rigid and he even added a touch of “wounded soldier,” wincing for good measure.
The quick, thorough, “nothing out of place” transformation, gave Beck the heebie-jeebies.
Meghan said, “Okay, soldier, let’s see what the range of motion is like. I managed to snag Dr. Johnson for a quick look-see on your X rays before he leaves for the hospital. He’s conferring with the radiologist as we speak.”
“Okay, Meghan,” Lawson said, looking every bit the cooperative marine. “I’ll try. It hurts, but I’ll do my best.”
Oh, puhlease. Beck started to roll her eyes.
“Fetch me the goniometer, will you, Beck?”
“I thought you said you were called Rebecca,” Lawson said.
“That’s my name,” Beck replied. “Even on my birth certificate.”
“Beck,” he repeated.
He seemed to dirty the name, making it sound tawdry.
“I’ll start calling you Beck, too.”
Beck gritted her teeth. “It’s reserved for friends.”
“I’d sure like to be,” he said in a “gee, gosh, golly” manner.
“I’m sure she won’t mind,” Meghan said, once Beck handed her the testing device. “She lets everyone call her Beck.” Meghan flashed her dimpled smile.
“Beck it is. My newest friend.”
Disgusted, unable to come up with a good retort that didn’t make her sound like a paranoid lunatic in front of Meghan, Beck excused herself to go to the bathroom. Once in the stall, she retrieved her phone with shaking fingers. She pressed the first three numbers to call Zed, then stopped. What am I going to say? He’s probably at work. How’s he going to deal with it? Bad idea. Better to wait until I get home. She finished her business, washed her hands and exited the bathroom, only to crash into Lawson when she rounded the corner. “Shit! Sorry. Wasn’t paying attention.”
“Not a good idea when you’re on recon. Stay aware at all times.”
She frowned, puzzled. “Good news. I’m not on recon.”
“I am.” Again his persona had switched into the marine. He turned, trapping her against the wall, and placed one hand on either side of her head, checking right and left first to make sure no one was in the vicinity. “You never gave me your answer.”
She ducked under his massive, tree-trunk like arms. “What answer is that?”
He grabbed her arm. “Don’t play coy. I asked you out.”
Unlike Zed, his hand clenched on her biceps like a metal claw. “Oh. I thought you merely wanted help finding things to do. The library has excellent job resources. Or won’t the military try and place you? They’ve been doing better with that since the Vietnam War debauchery. Now let go of my arm.”
&nbs
p; “Not until you answer the question.”
“Easy. It’s no.”
“Wrong answer, bitch. Are you fucking my brother?”
“None of your damn business. Now let go of my arm.”
The radiologist opened the door to the X ray reading room. “Everything okay out here?”
Lawson morphed into confused marine, releasing her arm and bringing his hand to his forehead. “I was heading to the bathroom and I got dizzy. Thankfully, Beck caught me before I went down.”
“Are you okay now?”
“Perfect. Well, a little shaky but nothing to worry about. I’ll be fine.” He took a step and winced. “Man, I’ll be glad when this pain stops.”
Beck glowered. He wasn’t limping when he lunged for me. Zed’s right. He’s being hunted by a psycho marine.
“Here, let me help you,” the radiologist offered, taking a step out of the office.
“Thank you, sir, but it’s important to do things on my own.” Lawson’s mouth curved into an earnest smile.
“Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent.”
The radiologist disappeared behind his door.
“Come on, honey, what do you say?” Lawson the seducer slipped easily and effortlessly into place.
Beck hated the way he said “honey.” It carried a similar tone and inflection to the way Zed said it. “I say, let’s get back to the treatment room. You’re here for physical therapy.”
“Has my brother been telling lies about me again? He’s prone to that. Always has been. Makes up a lot of stories. Make sure you check them out. Did he tell you I steal girls out from underneath his nose?”
“Let’s head back.”
“Did he tell you what he stole from me?”
Beck hesitated.
“He didn’t, did he? Did he tell you how we used to share girls? I’d take a turn, he’d take a turn, everyone happy and satisfied.”
A seed of doubt began to settle into her mind. “The treatment room is this way.”
“I’ll bet he made it sound like he’s damaged. Like he’s been this innocent victim all his life, with me in the driver’s seat of the wrecking ball. Poor Zed. Boo hoo. Poor little thing. Mom and Dad tried their best with him. They used to ask my advice on how to deal with him.”
That’s called triangulation, you big dipshit. It accompanies complete dysfunction. “Okay, if you’re not going back to the treatment room, I have other things to do.”
“He used me to get to girls. His brother the marine hooked ‘em, he’d partake. We’ve had some good times when I’m on leave. I’m the muscle, he’s the sensitivity. Did he tell you we’re a team? The ladies loved it. With me, they’d get a real man. With him, they’d get to share feelings and girly shit. Lawson and Zed. Two sides of the same fucking…and I mean fucking…coin. Man, we had some good times.” He chuckled.
“Going now,” Beck said. The doubt seed began to sprout, tiny roots winding their tendrils into her mind. Her feet stayed glued in place.
“Ask him about San Francisco. Make sure and tell him I didn’t tell you anything. He’s especially embarrassed about that one. Ask him.”
Without another word, Beck spun on her heel and stalked toward the treatment room. He’s a psycho. Is he telling the truth? She and Zed were going to have a long, long talk when she got home…to his house. And then she might simply head back to her bed, in her house. No more cohabitation. It was fun while it lasted. No one lied to Beck Tosetti, ever.
Chapter 26
Zed stared at the card in front of him, eyeing it as if it didn’t make sense. He blinked, trying to clear his gaze. Stared some more. Finally picked up his smart-phone and dialed.
“Dr. Taylor’s office,” an efficient female receptionist answered. “How can I help you?”
“I’m sorry, wrong number.” Zed swiftly hung up the phone. “Chicken,” Zed said, making hen noises. “You’re nothing but a chicken, Farrell.” He picked up the phone again.
“Hey, man.” Mitch’s gruff voice floated into his ear like a beckoning life raft. “I’m about to head to the gym. What’s doing?” As scary as the guy appeared on the outside, he also provided safe haven for Zed. Zed had learned to trust him after that first fucked up faux pas.
“I can’t do it. I can’t call this doctor. Beck wants me to see this hot shit psychologist to get help with the blackouts but I can’t do it.”
A sigh met his ears. Zed pictured the male’s large palm running over the top of his smooth, shaved head, could almost hear the rasp of skin against skin, the way Mitch did when frustrated or thoughtful.
“I’m not your master or your maker. This is between you and you. I think it’s wise, your girl thinks it wise, but we’re only the chorus making noise.”
Zed puffed his cheeks with air and let it out slowly. “Can you think of any other option? Anything at all?”
“Any option for what?” Mitch asked.
“For getting my memories back. Maybe if I get them back, I’ll stop blacking out.” As silence met his ears, he again pictured the male thoughtfully rubbing the top of his head. Stroking his chin. Maybe taking a sip of his ever present black caffeine.
“I’m not going to go on record as being the one who suggested this but…”
“Understood,” Zed said.
“You might try recreating the crime.”
“Recreating the crime, how?”
“Head to San Diego. Get a room at that same hotel. See if you can walk the path you walked that night. One of my buddies did that. It worked for him. He’d given up on therapy. It’s worth a shot.”
“Yeah,” Zed said, feeling a strong sense of dread and apprehension. “Maybe not a good idea. The race is in a couple weeks. I can’t blow that. But I can’t blackout or disappear during the race.”
“Or the rest of your life,” Mitch said. “Not a good idea to blackout, ever. What if you’re driving? Or sexing your woman?”
Zed scoffed, “I know, I know. Maybe I should call that psych guy.”
“You know my thoughts. And healing the mind is not a slam dunk. It’s not like you see a therapist, and he fixes you in one session. It’s a process.”
“Yeah, okay. Well, thanks for the suggestion. You’ve given me something to think about.”
“Anything else?”
“Nah, I’m good. Well, I mean nothing else on my mind.”
“Things okay with your girl?”
Zed’s face flushed. “Better than okay. I don’t want to blow it.”
“Stay true to yourself. You don’t want to pretend to be someone you’re not. That’s how you can blow it, big time.”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Mitch.”
After disconnecting, Zed gave the matter two seconds worth of thought, and raced to The Farm. He’d been putting off another trip to San Diego to research plant stock for the same reason Mitch suggested he head down there. He worried it would trigger more shit, some crazy episode or something.
Once he pulled into the parking lot, he practically ran for the office. “Hey, boss,” he said to Chuck Chiton, the owner of The Farm.
“Zed.” The older man, removed his reading glasses, and lifted his arms in a stretch. “Been here since five this morning. Already whooped.”
“What’s the big push that needed you in so early?”
“Oh, you know, looking over the numbers, plant stock, things like that. We got some new shipments in last night and I had to enter the data. Truck broke down over on Hwy 104. It came in after you left.”
“Why didn’t you call me? You know I’d help.”
“Nah. Got to do something to keep in shape. Not running a marathon, like you. How’s it going?”
“Great. I’m up to multiples – meaning swim/bike, run/swim…things like that.”
Chuck nodded. “It would take some serious work to get me to do that.” He grabbed a fat bulge from his belly and squeezed it. “And what would I leave my wife to hold on to?”
Zed chuckled. “Say, Ch
uck. What do you say I make the run down to San Diego you’ve been bugging me to do?”
Chuck’s eyebrows rose. “I thought you said you didn’t want to do that run ever again? You said…and I quote… ‘Sorry, boss, hell no to So Cal.’ I know that’s where you had the, er…the accident.”
“Yeah.” Zed reddened. “Something’s come up that I need to do down there. Thought I’d kill the two proverbial birds.” He winced at the word “kill,” shifting back and forth on his feet. “You know. Do a good deed while I’m down there. For you.”
“Well,” Chuck said, peering at the computer screen. “Let me crunch some numbers and see what I can do. Were you thinking this weekend would be good?”
“Yeah. I’d be able to make it up in training.”
His boss nodded.
“How’s your patent coming on the mulch?”
“Tick, tock. It’s a waiting game at this point.” He hadn’t mentioned it to Beck, yet. Didn’t want to disappoint himself or her if it fell through.
“I’m tickled pink at you, son. You’re doing good things for this place. And for yourself, by the looks of it. Still dating that young woman you mentioned?”
“Yep. It’s going great. Well…” Zed smiled. “I’d better get to work. Let me know about San Diego.” When he sauntered out of the office, he let out a deep breath and wiped the sweat off his forehead and neck. It freaked him to go back to the “scene of the crime.” He stopped, squeezed the bridge of his nose and thought I’ll run it past Jace tonight. See what he thinks. Maybe I can take Beck. She’d be a great ally to have, as well as…his cock started to stir and happy dance. He swiftly thought of the work he had to do today to get it to stop.
Hours later, after the training that evening, Zed and Jace sat at a small black and white checked cloth covered table at Tapt’s drinking ales. “So, Beck might stop by.”
“That’s cool,” Jace said. “Any idea when?”
“She gets off at six. After that.”
“Okay, that gives us time to go over things. You’re doing great with the physical training. How’s your mental state?”
“Great.”
Jace tipped his head and studied him. “How’s your mental state?” he asked again. “The truth this time?”