Cindy sputtered, “But—”
“Did you realize he’s a Navy SEAL?”
Blanching, Cindy shook her head, her brown eyes growing huge. “Uhhh, no…”
“Better believe it, kiddo. You don’t mess with SEALs. I told you that when you first came here. They don’t take kindly to anyone being around their wounded brothers or, in this case, his fiancée.” She frowned. “Are we clear on this? He’ll sleep better, and she’ll feel comforted even though she’s in a medically induced coma. There’s everything right about that. It’s part of healing in case you hadn’t figure it out yet. And screw the rules.”
Cindy touched the collar of her white uniform, gulping. “I forgot he was a SEAL….”
“Damn good thing he’s so exhausted or he’d have snapped awake and probably decked you before you could blink twice. You never wake up a SEAL. Otherwise, you’re asking for a broken nose or arm. When I was based at Landstuhl, a new nurse went in to wake up a wounded SEAL. She’d been warned, too. She touched his shoulder, and he threw her across the room and broke her nose and collarbone. Helluva way to learn you tread carefully around a SEAL, huh?”
*
MIKE TARIK KNOCKED lightly on Room 101. He waited patiently for a response. The head nurse, Trudy Turner, had told him at the main desk the next morning that Chief Griffin was sleeping soundly in bed with his fiancée. Mike just grinned and thanked her, making his confident, cocky way down the long hall to the room at the end.
The door opened. Mike saw Gabe’s drowsy features. “Man, you look like hell warmed over. How’s Bay doin’?”
If it had been anyone else other than Mike, Gabe would have decked them. Rubbing his face, he muttered, “She’s okay… Come in…”
His best friend was half Saudi and half American, born in the U.S.A. Mike’s black hair was longish, just above his shoulders, his light brown-gold eyes large and intelligent. Gabe had seen him pose undercover as a Taliban operative many times in the past. Mike was an unsung hero in the war against al Qaeda and the Taliban. He’d been a spy amidst the enemy and had given perishable intel to the SEALs to capture or disrupt the enemy’s planned missions. In Gabe’s book, the man had the biggest set of balls he’d ever seen. Not many men would worm their way into a Taliban army and not be found out. Mike spoke Pashto, Arabic, English and French. He was a stand-out SEAL.
Mike quietly closed the door behind him. The room was almost dark, the venetian blinds drawn across the small window. His gaze moved to Gabe’s fiancée. She looked like a broken porcelain doll to him. This pained him since he could see the effect it had on Gabe. Mike watched him struggle to wake up.
“Hey, man, I came to relieve you. Let me stay with Bay for a while. You need a shower, coffee and a hot breakfast down in the cafeteria.”
Gabe knew he was right. “Yeah…okay…” He moved stiffly, having stayed in the same position all night holding Bay. He walked over to her bedside, looking down at her. Was he seeing things? There was a slight flush across her right cheek. Was she responding to him holding her all night? His heart squeezed with hope. Gabe touched her hand, her fingers, and they felt warmer.
Mike stood near the door, concern across his square face. Nodding, Gabe leaned down and picked up his boots. He shoved them on and opened the door.
“Can you get Nurse Turner to come and get me in the cafeteria in case something happens to Bay?” he asked his friend.
“Yeah, I’ll do that. But Bay will be fine, bro. Go on, get some food, take a shower, shave and get right with yourself, man.” Mike slapped him on the back. Gabe winced, his mouth drawing in. “Hey,” Mike asked, “what gives?”
“It’s nothing. Took a bullet to the Kevlar in the back. I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“I’m good. I’ll be back in less than an hour.”
“Roger that.”
*
AS GABE STIFFLY leaned against the wall of the shower, he waited as the scalding hot water loosened up his locked-up back and knee joints. Old injuries reared their ugly head at times like this. After putting on a fresh set of cammies and rolling his shoulders as he straightened, Gabe headed toward the bank of elevators opposite the nurses’ desk.
As he passed the station, a young nurse stared openmouthed him, her eyes wide. What the hell? He was in no mood for a starstruck little girl.
By the time he returned to Bay’s room, Gabe felt a hundred percent better. Taking a shower in the men’s locker room had worked minor miracles on his bruised, battered body. He’d bought a mocha latte for Mike from the cafeteria. With his left hand, he pushed the door open to Bay’s room. His SEAL brother was in the recliner, watching Bay. Grateful for Mike’s support, Gabe quietly went over and handed his friend the latte.
“I know you’d die without at least three of these a day,” Gabe said gruffly. Mike loved his coffee. The guy ran on a caffeine high all the time. He even packed coffee in his ruck when out on patrol, completely addicted to the stuff.
“Hey, man, thanks.” Mike got up and moved aside. “She’s fine. Sleeping like a baby.”
Gabe moved to Bay’s side, sliding his hand down hers. She was still warm, and the flush remained on her cheek. “Did she move?”
“Well,” Mike said in a low voice, sipping the latte, “she moved her lips.”
Gabe’s heart thudded once. “Did Bay say anything?”
Shaking his head, Mike said apologetically, “She was whispering something, but I couldn’t hear what it was. By the time I got up and went over to try and hear what she was saying, it was too late. Sorry.”
Worried, Gabe wondered if Bay was already being stalked by virulent, gutting nightmares. He knew what they were like. “I’m going to go down the hall and talk to Nurse Turner about it. Can you stay here for just a moment more—”
“Yeah, go ahead. I’m due out on a night patrol at 2100 tonight, so no sweat.”
Nurse Turner listened attentively to the SEAL. Cindy, the other nurse, was nearby, eavesdropping.
“Sometimes, Chief Griffin, a patient will mutter or talk while they’re in an induced coma. It’s not unusual,” she said, patting his hand. “No worries. She’s fine. And by the way, Bay is scheduled out of here tomorrow morning. She’s already been assigned a berth on a C-5 heading for Germany. You’ll be going with her. Landstuhl now has her records, and she’s already been assigned a neurosurgeon, a Major Cory Torrance. That’s great news because she’ll oversee Bay’s coming out of the coma.”
Heartened, Gabe nodded. “That’s good to know. Thank you…” He forced a smile he didn’t feel, but the nurse had gone out of her way for Bay, and he was grateful.
“Dr. Torrance is a very kind person, Chief. She’s someone you can ask anything of regarding your fiancée’s condition. If I were you, I’d take advantage of that because no one knows where Bay will be when she awakens. Ask the doctor plenty of questions. Okay? Let her educate and prepare you.”
Gabe felt his gut tighten with fear. What did Turner mean, prepare him? He thinned his lips and gave her a curt nod of thanks.
“You okay with any other SEAL visitors who might drop by today, Chief?”
He halted and turned. “Any time.”
“Thought so.”
*
GABE WAS DOZING in the chair late that afternoon when a light knock came at the door. Instantly, he sat up, sleep torn from him. He glanced first at Bay, who appeared fine, and then he rose. Opening the door, Gabe stared in the face of a female Army general in a light green short-sleeved blouse and dark green gabardine slacks. Her bucket hat was tucked beneath her left arm.
“Chief Griffin? I’m General Maya Stevenson. Would you like to step outside with me for a moment, please?”
A general? WTF? Gabe stared. He was momentarily stunned and then abruptly nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, closing the door behind him.
The woman’s gaze rapidly assessed him. Her black hair lay around the shoulders of her Army green uniform. He saw the gold wings on her left side of the blous
e, denoting she was an Apache combat helicopter pilot. Who the hell was she?
“Chief, let’s take those two chairs over there near the wall?” She pointed to them across the way from Bay’s room.
Gabe brought the chair out for her, and she thanked him and sat down. He sat down stiffly, his body tightening back up on him. “What’s this all about, ma’am? I don’t know who you are.”
Maya smiled a little. “As it should be, Chief.” She nodded toward Bay’s room. “Bay is one of my forty women volunteers who make up Operation Shadow Warriors. I know you know about it because Bay was in your SEAL platoon last year.”
Rubbing his face, his mind not functioning well, Gabe uttered, “Yes, ma’am, I remember that. We signed papers swearing we’d never talk about it.”
“Yes, that’s correct.” Maya’s voice lowered. “I’ve been reading the medical reports and updates on Bay. How is she doing from your perspective?”
“Okay, I guess,” Gabe said wearily, seeing the care burning in the general’s eyes.
“And how are you doing, Chief?”
“I’m good, ma’am.”
She gave him a measuring smile. “Damn, you SEALs are good at lying through your teeth. You take it to an art form.”
“SEALs don’t complain about pain, ma’am. We’re always in some kind of pain one way or another.”
Shaking her head, Maya said, “I read the report you filed on that op to rescue Bay.” Her voice dropped with feeling. “Chief, you’re one damn brave man, and so was your Afghan partner, Reza. I want to personally thank you.” She held out her hand toward him.
Gabe couldn’t look her in the eyes because he suspected she had tears in them. He took her hand and shook it. “I didn’t do anything any other SEAL wouldn’t have done for Bay, ma’am.”
“You SEALs are so damned humble.” She gave him a softened look. “I’m here for two reasons, Chief. First, you need to know I personally talked to your SEAL Team 3 commander. You are officially on medical leave and won’t be required to rejoin your platoon when Bay is transferred home to the States.”
His eyes widened. “Ma’am?” How the hell could she finagle that? His heart pounded with relief because Gabe had been worried the Team would order him to duty soon. His days with Bay were numbered, and the last thing he wanted to do was be torn from her side. Bay would need him.
“Secondly,” Maya went on, holding his startled gaze, “I’ve talked to a number of professionals about Bay’s condition. Providing there are no complications, to a person, they’ve all recommended she go home as soon as possible to continue her recovery. The psychiatrists I’ve discussed her condition with feel that she’ll respond more positively to a safe, nonthreatening home environment.” She grimaced, looking beyond him toward the nurses’ desk. “And I think both of us can agree, she’ll want to recover at home.”
“No question about that, ma’am,” Gabe said, frowning.
“Chief, you’re on medical leave for as long as Bay needs you at her side. Now, I know you have less than a year left on your present contract before you re-up. Correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I need to know one thing from you, Chief. Are you reenlisting?” She watched him carefully.
Gabe swallowed against his tightening throat, looking toward Bay’s room. He turned and stared at the general. “No, ma’am, I want to be with Bay. She’s going to need me, and I want to be there for her when she does. I don’t want to be dragged off to thirty days of rattle battle when she’s in the middle of a crisis. The neurosurgeon has already told me she might have partial or full amnesia. I’m not letting anyone help her but me and her family. I’m a known quantity in her life, like her mother and sister, ma’am.”
Maya smiled. “You’re a damned good SEAL, Chief. Your heart’s in the right place.” She stood and patted him on his shoulder. “You can expect your medical leave to be the length of the rest of your military service, then. I’ll make it happen. Okay?”
Stunned, Gabe stared up at her, not quite believing what she was telling him. He’d get his pay, and yet, he’d be able to remain with Bay, no matter where she was sent. “More than okay. Thank you, ma’am.”
“Good. Now, give me five minutes alone with Bay?”
“Of course,” Gabe said. He started to stand, but she pushed him back down in the chair. “At ease, Chief. You need some rest, too. You look like hell warmed over.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
GABE HELD HIS BREATH. Dr. Cory Torrance stood on the opposite side of Bay’s bed. Since arriving at Landstuhl five days ago, Gabe had felt relief more than worry. The black-haired fortysomething-year-old neurosurgeon had been more like a mother hen to him and Bay than the brilliant doctor she was. She’d patiently led Gabe through the harrowing medical process of looking at CAT scans, MRIs and the multitude of test results, carefully explaining them to him in understandable terms. And now that Bay’s brain was no longer swelling, she had reversed the induced medical coma.
Swallowing, Gabe continued to stand and hold Bay’s warm fingers within his hand. Over the past twelve hours, Bay had slowly started to become conscious. Watching her eyelids move, her lashes quivering, Gabe felt fear mixed with hope.
Dr. Torrance took time to school him in brain injury and the many possibilities. Bay might wake up and recognize him immediately. Or not recognize him at all. That scared the shit out of Gabe as nothing else. He could handle everything, but not that. How could he forge a connection with Bay if she didn’t recognize him? Didn’t remember what they’d shared? Remember their love? He’d gone stir-crazy over those possibilities, and it was all he could do to stand relaxed, as if he were fine. But he was far from it, his gut clenched into a painful fist.
“She’s coming up again,” Dr. Torrance told him quietly, catching his worried gaze. “I want you to imprint her, Chief. I’m going to step out. Bay needs to see your face first. Your voice. Her brain will automatically connect with you on every level. Keep your tone low. Keep holding her hand. If she asks questions, remember what I said?”
It hurt to swallow, the lump growing in Gabe’s throat along with his fear amping up. “Yes, ma’am, I do. I’ll make it happen.”
Dr. Torrance smiled gently. “You press that button when you want some help in here. Otherwise, we’re not going to bother you. Bay needs focus right now, not a gaggle of doctors and nurses flying around her room, creating disruption.”
Grateful beyond words, Gabe watched the tall doctor leave, the door quietly hiss closed behind her. He rubbed his eyes, forcing his fears aside. Forcing back his anxiety. He gently moved his fingers down Bay’s left lower arm, wanting her to know he was here. Wanting her to know she wasn’t alone. Or abandoned. His mind raced with the ton of information. Jesus, he felt as if he’d been to medical school since landing at Landstuhl.
The psychologist assigned to Bay’s case had educated him as well about rape. He had no idea what to expect, completely ignorant of how the rape might affect Bay in the short and long term. The shrink had been compassionate but didn’t waste her words. Both she and Dr. Torrance were afraid if Bay’s memories of both her capture and rape came together, it would create a major emotional crisis for her. How to handle it?
Right now, Gabe felt out of his league. Completely. All he knew was he loved Bay, and he needed to trust his heart and gut. It had kept him alive on some very bad missions. It would have to be his internal compass in knowing how to support Bay, no matter where she was emotionally. No matter how much information the docs threw at him.
Gabe drew in a sharp breath as her eyes slowly opened. Seeing the blue irises set around huge black pupils made his heart race. He held Bay’s fingers a little more tightly, leaning over, trying to get her wandering attention.
“Bay? It’s Gabe. You’re all right, baby. You’re here in a hospital.” Dr. Torrance had warned him to keep his sentences short and speak slowly. Bay would feel overwhelmed with too much information at once. He watched her eyes widen slightly ov
er his huskily spoken words. Did that mean she remembered him?
Oh, God, let it be so…
*
BAY FELT MIDWAY between floating and feeling how heavy her body had become. She was warm, and she heard a man’s voice, but she couldn’t understand all that he’d said, the words garbled. Her mind wandered. And so did her gaze. She saw a light blue wall in front of her. At first, things were blurred, but then they’d come back into focus. What caught most of her attention was someone holding her hand. She felt the roughness of his fingers, sensing it was a man’s hand. Oddly, it gave her comfort. And when he touched her hair, Bay closed her eyes, hungrily absorbing the feeling, how it made her feel safe.
So many emotions percolated through her as she became more conscious. Some were good. Others, well, appeared like a black hole. Fear skittered through her as she teetered on an imaginary edge of an abyss, looking down into it. Bay knew if she fell into it, she’d be lost forever. She wasn’t sure what would be lost, only that it would swallow her up and she’d die.
“Bay? Baby, look at me?”
His voice sounded so familiar. Bay was weak. It took all her energy to move her eyes to the left and look up. Blinking slowly, she studied his ruggedly handsome face. It was his green eyes, so alive and yet filled with wariness, that affected her the most. As her heart took off at a gallop, Bay felt incredible joy filtering through all the other roiling emotions coming alive within her.
She opened her mouth. It felt so dry. She was thirsty. Though she wanted to speak, her throat began to close up on her, pain filtering down through it. Her brows turned down as she struggled.
“Baby, don’t fight so hard. Take it easy…easy…”
His voice was balm blanketing her fear, her anxiety now nipping like a rat terrier at her consciousness. His eyes grew warm and anxious for her. His face was close to hers, but not too close. As her vision cleared, she realized he was standing next to a bed. Her bed. Bay sensed anguish around him. Why? She felt safe with him. Safe…
Gabe tried to force all his emotions down into his kill box as Bay’s blue eyes became clearer. It took another half hour before he saw her becoming more aware of him. Her fingers curled weakly into his palm. Damn, that felt so good. His spirits surged with hope. Bay kept trying to speak, her voice rough and barely a whisper. Leaning close to her lips, he heard her rasp, “Water…”
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