Another surprise move that caught her off guard; she'd expected him to be cold and hard and distant. After all, the limo driver they’d hired to help with Caroline's kidnapping had caught a lucky break when she'd run from her own wedding. Nightshade had been sure the Senator would've been pissed at her daughter's obvious betrayal to his plans. But this might just be the excuse she needed to help ease her transition into Caroline's life.
“I don't know. I don't know anything right now.” Nightshade pulled her hand away from his face.
He hastily swiped at a tear. “I can't blame you if you hate me now, but I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I swear.” His heartfelt pledge rang too true for Nightshade’s liking, and she turned her head to look out the window, unsure of how to handle such raw emotion.
Her real father, Jack Mankel, had always been so clinical in their relationship, insisting that she train constantly to be prepared for the nasty world they lived in. She remembered running to him as a child, crying when she’d done something stupid and scraped her knees, blood running down her legs, and all she wanted was her daddy. She remembered when he’d sent her away and told her she needed to learn to take care of herself. He’d calmly fetched her some bandages and alcohol and taught her to clean up her own wounds. There'd been no hugs or comfort. Only lessons and training.
And over the years she’d convinced herself he was that way, so hard and unfeeling, because of the man shedding tears over her this very minute.
The door clicked open and the doctor, a man with dark gray hair and a long white lab coat, strode into the room, a chart in his hand. “Our patient has woken?”
Cotter remained at her side. “Just now.”
The doctor came around to the other side of her bed and pulled a small flashlight from his pocket, briefly checking her pupils. “Hi, Caroline, my name is Dr. Klein. I'm the chief surgeon in this unit. Tell me, how does your head feel?”
“Fine.”
“Any severe pain?”
Aside from a niggling little stab wound at her side, not really. “No.”
“I'd like to do a quick examination now that you're conscious. Is that okay?”
She nodded, but Cotter was the one who answered, “Yes, of course.”
Dr. Klein reached for the sheet covering her, and Nightshade immediately clutched it to her chest, glancing at Cotter instead. Klein caught the hint and cleared his throat. “Senator, if you could step out of the room, I'll let you know as soon as we're done.”
Hurt flashed across Cotter’s haggard face, but Nightshade felt no sympathy for the man. Besides, if he saw all the scars covering her body, he’d know instantly she was not Caroline.
“You'll call me if you need anything, right?”
Nightshade nodded, “Sure.”
Cotter glanced at the doctor. “Take care of my little girl.” With a last strained look at Nightshade, he left the room and she blew out a breath.
Cotter leaving was a lull in the building storm, but Dr. Klein could be the tsunami that took her down. She couldn’t allow him to see all her scars or he could blow her whole cover.
“I’ll inspect your side first. The men who brought you in said you had a stab wound, but they did a good job stitching you up on the fly. Can you sit up?” Dr. Klein asked gently.
“I think so.” Nightshade curled her fingers into a loose fist, putting most of the weight on her knuckles as she pushed herself into a sitting position. Her palms and arms burned. She still felt weak from her blood loss, but it was important that she push through to get to D.C. to find her unit.
Dr. Klein moved through his examination quickly and efficiently, pulling off the bandage, checking her right side and then her back. Thankfully he didn’t try to examine her entire body and she was able to keep the sheet up for most of the time.
He probed her right cheek and she flinched. She felt the side of her face and remembered Merc. He’d accidentally clocked her in his fevered state.
“Everything is healing up nicely. You’ll have some swelling for a few more days, but there were no fractured bones or internal bleeding.”
“Now let me see those hands.”
Nightshade leaned back on her pillows and held up her hands. She’d need all of her strength to complete her mission.
She cleared her throat. “What about Merc?”
Dr. Klein inspected the bright red rings the horse’s reins had rubbed into her skin. “He's pulling through. Had to get him some heavy antibiotics to fight off a pretty nasty infection, but he's finally come around. He's even gotten out of bed despite my orders not to move, trying to force his way down here to check on you, would have made it too if he’d been able to walk very far.”
Surprise filter through her. As far as Task Force Scorpion was concerned, Caroline Cotter was safe. Merc had completed his mission. So why come check on her? “So he's going to be okay, right?”
Dr. Klein finished inspecting her hands. “He'll be just fine. Maybe you can go see him in a little while. I think he's been worried about you. Seeing you might make him feel better.”
What exactly was he implying? Merc wouldn’t be worried about her. She was nothing more than a mission to him. He was a soldier, a mercenary. Just like her. As soon as he was healthy enough to get back to base, he’d be out of here in a heartbeat, ready to take on the next assignment.
So why was Dr. Klein saying Merc was concerned for her? Sure they’d hit a tough break with the capture and the explosion, and she had been the one to rescue him…But only because he’d been so severely beaten he could barely walk. The image of Merc strung up from the ceiling, dripping blood, his face swollen, his skin flayed and cut…him bartering his life for hers… “I think I'd like that.”
What? Where had that come from?
Nightshade gave herself a hard internal shake. She didn’t have the time or luxury to worry about Merc. Not now. He’d survive. She’d gotten him to the cave. They were even, right? So why did she need to see him so bad her chest ached?
Dr. Klein took a chair beside her bed, the same one Cotter had previously occupied. “Your wounds are healing amazingly fast, and there didn't appear to be any other... trauma. But just in case, I gave you a shot for sexually transmitted diseases.”
Fire blasted up her cheeks. “What? I didn't-”
Jesus. She never really even thought about sex. Not that she hadn’t been curious about it; she was a normal-ish woman. But she’d been a soldier first her whole life. A part that made up the whole of Mayhem. Besides, most of the men she came in contact with didn't live very long.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to talk about anything that makes you uncomfortable. But we do have a psychologist on staff. She could come and visit you. Most women, after an ordeal like you've been through, need counseling as well as medication to recover.”
He wanted to shrink her? “Listen, Doc, I'm good. Couple of cuts, couple of bruises. Other than that, I think I'll make a full recovery.”
Dr. Klein dropped his chin, studying her from lowered lids, and she got the uncomfortable feeling he could see beneath her carefully crafted act. Should she have accepted his offer for a psychologist? Is that what Caroline would've done?
“Yes, I think you'll be okay. Your father seems to think you're easily breakable, but I've seen all kinds of people come in and out of my hospital. You're a lot stronger than he gives you credit for.”
His unexpected praise sent another wave of heat to her cheeks, and Nightshade shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “Thanks. So when can I see Merc?”
“Whenever you're ready. He's been giving my nurse fits, refusing to stay in bed. She could use a break.” Dr. Klein grabbed his clipboard and headed to the door. “Don't hesitate to call if you need anything. You’ve got your own wing, privately monitored with nurses, and I'm on call twenty-four hours a day. If you need anything – anything at all – call me. All you have to do is press the button on the remote hooked up to your bed.”
Again with the sp
ecial treatment – is this what Caroline's life was like all the time? This hyper-microscopic focus was beginning to chafe. “Sure. Thanks again.”
When the door opened, Cotter slid past Dr. Klein into her room. Hands shoved in his pockets, he paced nervously. “So, what did he say?”
Nightshade crossed her arms over her chest and hunched her shoulders. “He said I'm fine.”
Hovering – the Senator was hovering. And his constant pacing grated on her nerves.
“Caro, honey, tell me what happened. What did Mr. J put you through these past weeks? I can't stand the not knowing another minute.”
“Really, he left me alone most of the time, locked up in my room. I wasn't really sure where I was or anything.” She’d covered this part in her training; she knew how she should comport herself based on the multiple videos she’d watched of her twin.
He sliced his hand in the air. “Don't sugarcoat it for me. He is a monster hell-bent on destroying my family. I don't believe for one second that you were well cared for.”
Nightshade had to bite back the angry retort that sprang to her lips in defense against her real father. “It wasn't like he catered to me. He kept me locked up so I couldn't escape and would be fully isolated. The one servant who attended me didn't speak English.”
“Dammit, Caroline, the man wouldn't just kidnap you and not do everything in his power to use you to hurt me!”
“Why not? Why does he want to hurt you so bad that he went to the extreme of kidnapping me?” Nightshade’s voice rose in response.
Cotter took a deep breath, visibly trying to keep calm. “It's nothing for you to worry about. It's something that happened before you were born.”
“But you've made it my business now, haven't you? I didn't ask to be thrown into the middle of this mess.”
Cotter stopped pacing and dropped into the chair directly to her left, snatching up her hand before she could jerk it away. “You're right, I shouldn't have yelled at you. I've just been so worried, so upset, thinking about all the terrible things you must be suffering… all because of me.”
Nightshade heard more than just the hurt and worry in his voice, though, she heard the heavy dose of guilt lurking there. But guilt over what? Over what he’d done twenty-seven years ago or something more recent, like the wedding?
Nightshade purposefully softened her voice, hoping to coax more intel out of Cotter. “How exactly is this your fault?”
“I forced you into a marriage with the General. I should've known J would pull something to prevent that kind of alliance. Please know I only did it to protect you.”
“Protect me from what?”
“From that monster, who else?” Cotter said.
“But why do I need protection from Jack Mankel?” Nightshade uttered the question quietly.
Cotter refused to meet her gaze and instead settled on patting her leg like he’d pet a dog. “Like I said, honey, it was before you were born. I might tell you one day when you're better, but not now. Not until you've healed completely.”
Nightshade carefully withdrew her hand from his, recognizing the political two-step Cotter was so innately familiar with. She wouldn't get any answers today, none that would be the truth, anyway. “I'd like to rest now, if you don't mind.”
“Caro, I – ” Cotter pressed his lips into a thin line, disappointment clear on his face. “Of course. You're exhausted. I'll let you get some sleep. We can talk more tomorrow.”
He'd be pressing her for more info on her father while avoiding her questions is exactly what he'd be doing.
Chapter 10
Merc dropped back onto his pillow. The damn weakness eating his body alive made it impossible to even stand on his own two feet for longer than thirty seconds.
“You need to be still and let your body heal… you know, actually listen to the doctor's orders.” Hunter stretched his legs out and crossed his ankles, his large body too big to fit comfortably in the small plastic hospital room chair.
“Why don't you stick to what you know? I know what I can handle,” Merc ground out, but didn't try to sit up again.
“Sure, you look like you're doing really well.”
Merc glared at his team leader. “Don't you have some shadow to go lurk in?”
“Nope, your room will do for now. Besides, I’m having way more fun knowing that for once in my life I'm actually stronger than you.”
Merc snorted but a smile tugged the corner of his lips. “You better enjoy it now because it won't last long.”
“I'm not an idiot. I know I’ve probably got a week, tops – if that,” Hunter sat up in the chair.
“So where is the rest of the team hiding?” Merc had been in and out of it so much, and he didn't like being left out of the loop.
“Hoyt and Jared stopped by earlier but didn't stay long. You know how Hoyt is about hospitals. The rest of the team is holed up at the local barracks, debriefing the mission with Commander Grey and figuring out our next step.”
“And then what? What's our plan? We headed back to Afghanistan?”
Hunter dropped his elbows to his knees and scrubbed a hand over his face, his black hair rumpled and a 5 o'clock shadow on his jaw. “Honestly, I don't fucking know. Somehow that bastard disappeared off the face of the Earth again. The explosion wiped out any evidence we might have found. You two are lucky to even be alive.”
“I can't believe I let him get away.”
“Didn't sound like you had much of a choice, brother,” Hunter said.
“I'm not going back to the states until I get him.” How could he? He’d dedicated his entire adult life to hunting down Mr. J. He’d come so close. If it hadn't been for Caroline... “How's the girl?”
Hunter lifted his head and stared at him curiously from his corner. “Far as I know she’s still out, but it seems like most of her injuries are healing. Senator Cotter is pacing a damn hole in the hallway, though. The man does nothing but barge in and out of her room, waiting on her to wake up.”
Something Merc might've done himself if he’d been able. When he’d managed to evade the nurses and limp down the hall to her room earlier, he’d seen the dark bruise on her face and the bandages on her hands and nearly lost it. “She looked so frail.”
Hunter shook his head. “No way. That’s one of the toughest females I’ve ever seen.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Dude, she shot at me. More than once.”
Merc lowered his brows. “What? When?”
“You two had somehow managed to hole up in a cave after we’d gotten the GPS signal from your belt. We’d been searching for you for days with no luck until that signal came through. You’ll have to thank Mr. K for that one. Anyway, she tried to hold us off with a stolen rifle, not knowing who we were at first. And she’s a damn good shot. Nearly nicked me twice.”
“Are you talking about Caroline Cotter, the spoiled princess?” Maybe Merc’s fever was back and he was imagining things, because none of what Hunter was saying made sense.
Hunter snorted. “If she’s a spoiled princess, then I’m the Queen of England.”
Merc shook his head, trying to clear the dense fog surrounding his memory of their escape, but he couldn’t manage to break through. He caught glimpses, pieces to a puzzle. But nothing real. Or nothing that made sense anyway.
The whole rescue was still fuzzy for Merc. The fever had taken hold of him only days after their capture, so the few flashes of memory he had didn’t make any sense - Caroline slitting Salaam’s throat. Caroline and him getting on a horse. The pain. The constant and unending pain.
As soon as she woke up and recovered he planned to have a one-on-one and find out the details.
“She’s tough, brother. When we tried to treat her wounds, she threatened to have us all dishonorably discharged if we didn’t tend to your injuries first,” Hunter said.
Shock stole his breath. Caroline had put his life before her own? “Why?” He was just a mercenary. A soldier. He ha
d nothing to give anyone, not even a past. He’d been so close to learning the truth about himself. All he would have had to do was sacrifice Caroline…
For the first time, Merc realized he might not have made the wrong decision back at the palace.
“I’m not sure, but she protected you, brother, and she did it fiercely. You’ve got a strong woman on your side,” Hunter said.
He’d never worried about anyone other than his team and himself before. Hell, he knew less about Caroline Cotter than he did about Kim Kardashian on the damn news. So what was he supposed to do with this new information about her? She was just supposed to be a mission for him, one he’d completed. Another hostage rescue of an over-privileged spoiled Barbie-wanna-be who should have cared more about her hair than the grunt who’d been sent to rescue her.
But Barbie didn’t fire AR’s and threaten Special Forces Operatives twice her size…especially for him. Merc shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to handle the new image Hunter painted of Caroline or the fresh surge of over-protectiveness toward her that followed.
“Is the Senator with her now?” Merc wished he could just check on her himself. Not for the first time that day, he cursed his weakness. He’d only managed to make it two steps earlier when he’d gotten up to go check on her. It had taken his nurse all of thirty seconds to force him back to bed.
He’d had to practically beg her to give him an update on Caroline’s condition. Not many people go through the trauma of an explosion like that without some serious repercussions, let alone whatever happened to her those days in the camp. Fuck, if only he could remember….
“I don’t know, but I can tell you he's pissed at us, that's for sure. Thinks we should have done something to find her a lot sooner. Still blames Ethan and Aaron for her kidnapping, too,” Hunter said.
“If anyone is to blame, it’s Cotter himself. He said he vetted his staff. It was his fault he hired on the enemy in the first place.” A mistake Merc would've never made. He didn't care if he'd known someone for twenty years, he’d still run a complete background check on them before trusting them with someone he loved.
Men of Mercy: The Complete Story Page 131