Chapter Twenty-Three
Char
“He’s not doing too well, is he?” Silly question. Who wouldn’t be after going through something so traumatic. Still, I worried if he’d ever get over it.
We sat in the back of the cab, heading for the hotel. He pondered my question and then sighed. “Normally, I’d say ‘yeah, he’s fine. Just pissed. He’ll get over it, but this is different. Something in his eyes has changed. The fighting spirit he’s always had. I couldn’t see it. It’s like it had been snuffed out. That’s what concerns me more than anything.”
My stomach rolled. For Viper’s best friend to come to such a conclusion proved extremely serious. For once I hadn’t taken the sting of his words to me too seriously. As much as his rebuttal hurt, it was to be expected. It was part of the process. I’d seen it before.
“So what now? Will you stay until he gets sent home?”
“I have to. I’m all he has. I want to be with him on his journey home. As angry as I am at his attitude right now, I won’t leave him.”
God. Loyal to the death. It touched me deeply. “He’s so lucky to have you. I mean it. So is Mac.”
I smiled as he glanced at me with a hint of a smirk. His jaw ticked.
“You jealous, Red?”
He’d never called me that before and somehow it didn’t have the same kick as when Viper called me it. Barking out a laugh, I coughed. “Red, huh? Since when do you call me that?”
Shrugging, he chuckled. “I kinda like it.” He held my focus. Perusing. Searching. “You’re good for him, you know. He knows it. Mac and I know it. You just need to be patient.”
Balking at his statement, I shook my head. “We’ve only just arrived at a place where we don’t hate each other. And now this. I feel like we’re back to square one. I don’t know if he wants my help.”
“Sure he does. His mind is just fucked right now. The one thing he’s passionate about has been taken away. He’s grieving. I can’t imagine what he’s going through. But don’t give up on him. I’ve seen changes in him since you’ve uh, got under his skin…”
He full-on smiled now, looking at me and then out the window. The cab slowed down as we neared the hotel.
Punching him in the arm, I sang, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Too late. The cab had stopped and Dec was handing the driver some foreign money. Before I could punch him again, he was out the door, laughing as I swiped at the air where he’d been sitting.
After all the tension of the past hour, it felt good to laugh, although I knew it would be short-lived. I almost felt guilty at my change in mood while Viper lay in pieces and Mac stressed about the situation back home.
My cell pinged as I followed Dec inside. It showed a text from Mac. Waiting until we were in our separate rooms, I flung myself on the bed and read it.
Hey girl,
Just wanted to send my love. Hope Viper is doing okay. Let me know how things are going. Love you, Mac. XX
Hitting reply, I began to type.
He’s lost his left leg from the knee down. I guess he’s pretty lucky, considering. Mentally he’s shutting down. I’ll stay for a couple more days and head home. Your man is going to bring Viper home. Miss you.
Much love. Char. XX
A quick response came with a love heart. What more could be said? She needed to process his injury too. I didn’t want to say too much. Dec needed to fill her in on the details, which hopefully he’d get more of tomorrow. We’d left in a hurry and hadn’t been able to speak to anyone regarding Viper’s release.
How much leverage would my nursing status give us? Probably not much in a foreign country.
My mind drifted back to the broken soldier whose life flashed before his eyes and the rug pulled from under him. How would I react in the same situation?
I’d be happy to be alive, for a start. Losing half a leg didn’t mean the end. He could do other things with his life. A prosthetic would mean better mobility. Not having to rely on crutches or a wheelchair. He had to see that. Was it up to me to show him? Perhaps. But ultimately, Viper would need to make his own choices about his recovery. A horse could be led to water but you couldn’t make it drink.
My assault seemed like a dream now as I processed Viper’s situation. As horrible as mine had been at the time and how it affected me, that took a backseat now. I had something far more serious to focus on. It seemed like a good thing, as bad as the whole scenario was. I pondered how Viper would gather his life back.
Other wounded soldiers recovered and took on different roles. If not in the military, then in different fields. Perhaps Dec and he could team up and do something.
I’d need to wait until he returned home to mention it again. His fragility right now could push him over the edge.
I wanted to visit again before I flew out, regardless as to whether he pushed me away. He needed to know I wasn’t going anywhere.
I must have dozed because I awoke to a knocking at my door. A little dazed, I rose and checked the peephole.
Dec.
Checking my watch, I noted the time as six p.m. I must have slept fitfully.
Opening the door, and with his change of clothing, he ambled in. “You up for some dinner? I thought we could grab something out. Might as well see some of the town while we’re here.”
“Uh, I guess. Just let me get some other clothes on.”
“You look fine. It won’t be anywhere flash.”
“Oh. Okay. Well then, I’ll grab my shoes and we can go.”
***
“Did you get a message from Mac?” I asked, after swallowing a mouthful of braised pork hock. Dec had ordered bratwurst with potato mash.
“I called her. She was at work on her break, luckily. She’s pretty upset and concerned, but is remaining positive.”
I could read his facial expressions. When he spoke of his love, his eyes gleamed. “You miss her already.”
“Like crazy. I hate leaving her. When I thought I’d never see her again, it destroyed me.”
“Like I said earlier, she’s lucky. And no, I’m not jealous. I love Mac to bits. She deserves someone who adores her like you do.”
“You wish you had the same thing.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t need to. I can see it in your expressions.”
“I’ve never wanted the whole long-term relationship thing, you know? I was always happy dating different guys. But after seeing what you have with my best friend, well, it’s sickening, but also every girl’s dream.”
“It hasn’t been easy. I was a dick for a while until I realized pushing her away wasn’t the answer. I needed her too much. Viper and I are similar. He’ll realize how much he cares for you too.”
He kept saying it, but what if he didn’t know his friend now that something life-changing had happened? And why was I stressing so much about it? We’d slept together. We hadn’t committed to each other. I’d done casual so many times before and not worried about it.
The idea of not having Viper in my life sent razor-sharp stabs of pain into my chest.
Dec’s phone pealed out and I couldn’t help wondering if it was Mac.
With a frown between his eyebrows, he commanded, “Hello?” Silence. “Yep. Okay. I’ll be there soon. I’m finishing dinner.”
Placing the cell back in his jeans pocket, he must have sensed me watching him.
“The hospital said Viper’s asking for me.”
My eyes widened. “What do you suppose it’s about?”
“Not sure, but I’ll head on over after we eat. Do you mind if I go alone?”
“Not at all. I’ll visit in the morning.”
What could be so urgent to warrant a call from the hospital? Had he deteriorated and wanted Dec by his side?
Errant thoughts began again and I knew my time of relative calmness had ended. I’d be restless until I knew what was going on.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Viper
&n
bsp; I needed to amend things with Dec. I’d been an asshole. I hated the tension between us. I hated knowing I’d sent him away angry.
At first, the hospital had refused my request, but upon demanding to see someone in charge and getting a little heated, they’d eventually relented. Visiting hours were almost finished, but I didn’t care. I needed to see my brother.
Waiting proved hard. I wasn’t sure he’d come after storming out. Perhaps he decided to let me cool off instead. And what about Char? Would she come? Part of me hoped so but the part that truly needed to atone for my behavior with Dec hoped not.
Nurses came and went. I remained on pain medication and had blood taken again. My drip had been changed twice. The catheter remained.
When the door opened, I assumed it was Dec, but I sucked in a hard breath when a nurse walked in with a wheelchair. I’d forgotten about the doctor wanting me up and out of bed today. I’d assumed it would have happened earlier, but I guess they’d been busy. I hadn’t seen this nurse before. She appeared to be around twenty-something with mousy hair pulled up into a bun. Nice looking, but she had nothing on my Red. My Red. Shit. Listen to me. She wasn’t mine. I hadn’t earned her. Nor would I get to keep her now. The idea of that saddened me way more than it should.
“Hello. I’m Eva. I’m here to get you up and about.”
I’d said no wheelchairs! “You got any crutches?”
“We do, but I’ve been told to get you sitting in the chair before we tackle the crutches. I need to remove your catheter first.”
Oh crap. The muscles in my legs tightened as she moved toward the bed, donning a pair of gloves.
I squeezed my eyes closed.
“You may feel a little sting.”
Yeah, when a doctor or nurse said that, it normally hurt like hell. Funny, considering what I’d been through. Getting a small, plastic tube taken out should be a piece of cake.
I felt the blankets get pulled down.
The nurse giggled. “It’s not that bad. You don’t need to worry.”
Opening one eye, I squinted at her face, not able to lean up and watch. I was a complete wuss when it came to medical procedures.
I felt a gentle tug and a burning sensation. I gritted my teeth against it.
“All done,” she chirped.
“That’s it?” I asked, fully opening my eyes, deciding it hadn’t been so bad after all.
“Yep. You may experience an uncomfortable bladder for a couple of days and a small amount of blood in your urine, but it’s normal. It should settle soon.”
I’m glad she told me because if I relieved myself and saw any sign of blood, it would set off the panic button.
Settling into the mattress again, I waited until she finished tidying up the tray one of the other nurses had wheeled in earlier and her gloves had been removed.
“Now. Let’s get you out of this bed.”
Ah. No. “I’m not getting in that chair.” My voice boomed and she startled, halfway to the chair.
“You don’t want to get up?” she asked meekly.
“I do, but I want crutches.”
“Doctor’s orders.”
“Fuck doctor’s orders. I’m not getting in that chair.”
She glared at me and strode out. Probably to get her superior, but she could bring the President of the United States in and it wouldn’t change my decision.
Sitting in that chair, which sat facing me like some freaking torture device, would show everyone I was disabled.
Who was I kidding? Crutches wouldn’t hide the gaping hole where my foot used to be. It would just make me seem less…helpless.
Eva pushed open my door again with a male in tow. He appeared middle-aged and wore a scowl. Jackass. If he thought he could persuade me, let him try.
No doctor was going to give me orders that didn’t directly affect my health.
“You don’t want to get in the wheelchair? Why?”
He stayed back with the nurse at a safe distance. Intelligent man.
“I don’t need it. I can use crutches just fine.”
The doctor and nurse shared a knowing look before he responded. “Ultimately, it’s your choice. Nurse, bring in some crutches.”
That didn’t take much persuading. Thankful for the doctor’s understanding, I gave him a nod.
“We need to get you into a sitting position.” He moved to my bed and picked up a remote which I didn’t know existed and pushed a button. My bed began rising so I ascended upward until I could begin swinging my body around so my right leg hung over the edge.
“Are you in any pain?” Doc asked.
My thigh ached, but apart from that, I couldn’t feel much. A wooziness slipped through my head, so I paused to let it pass.
Thank God the catheter had been removed for this exercise, even though the drip remained. I wasn’t sure how I’d be able to walk on crutches plus maneuver the metal stand it hung from.
The doctor must have noticed where my attention was. “Nurse Eva will walk with you to help keep you steady and to keep you attached to your IV bag.”
Speaking of her, she breezed in with crutches in tow. Her happy persona was back in place, perhaps because she didn’t have to deal with my attitude any further.
Placing them in front of me, I gripped my lifeline, hoisting myself up and settling them under my arms. I wobbled as another wave of vertigo hit me, causing me to sway and my vision to distort. Two sets of arms grabbed me.
“That’s why we prefer the chair for the first time,” offered the doctor smugly.
Not deterred and not wanting to prove him correct, I shook off the dizziness and put all my weight on my good leg, letting my stump dangle. A heaviness pulled at the base of it, probably all the blood rushing south. I hoped that didn’t cause it to start bleeding again.
“Do you need me to stay, nurse?”
“No. Thank you. I can handle it.”
The doctor nodded, wheeling the chair into the corner of the room, probably hoping I’d fail at the crutches and have to use it, but I’d be damned if I’d give him the satisfaction.
It’s not like I hadn’t used crutches before. As uncomfortable as they felt resting in my armpits, I needed to get out of the confined space of the sterile room.
With slow precision, I closed the gap to the door, stopping so Eva could open it to let me out. She kept in step with me because of the IV stand, making sure the leads didn’t get tangled.
It felt good to be using my arms again. To be vertical. The hospital outside my room was like another world. I’d only heard the sounds and voices and not seen who they were coming from or what made such discord.
Talk about a hive of activity. Soldiers in uniforms paraded up and down hallways. The injured were led or walked themselves to wherever it was they needed to get to. Medical staff went about their tasks like busy worker bees. It seemed all hospitals were the same, no matter where you were.
“Just take it slowly at first. You’ll tire quickly, so we won’t go far.”
Not listening to her, I let the long hallway lead me away from my prison, surprisingly in better spirits at being able to move about. Being in this place, I was just like every other patient. I’d been injured in battle. I didn’t stand out. I blended in, bringing about a certain amount of comfort. Stepping out into the real world would be what rattled me. I wasn’t looking forward to it at all. In fact, it brought with it a stomach full of nausea.
I hated the feeling of no foot and lower leg. I’d suffered several breaks in my lifetime, but still, I’d been able to feel it there. Now, my left stump simply dangled.
“You’re doing great.” The nurse had a hard time keeping up with me. My arms needed the exercise as much as my leg, but I found after doing one round of the ward, I grew extremely weary. I still had painkillers pumping through my blood, which didn’t help the fatigue. Plus, my body had barely begun recuperating in the short time since the accident.
Staff barely glanced up from their busy schedules. I pro
ved to be just another number in the system. Some men and women of war wandered the halls, nodding their heads or smiling as we passed, a knowing glint in their eye that they understood what I was going through.
I sighed out, some of the weight I carried easing away. Perhaps I could do this after all.
A soldier appeared from around a corner with his whole leg missing. He too battled crutches. We found each other’s gaze and seemed to pause momentarily as if bonding over our similar injuries, his far worse than mine.
“Landmine?” he asked.
The nurse stopped beside me as I took a pause. “Yeah. You?”
“Yep. Nearly lost an arm too, but they managed to save it. Just damn thankful to be alive.”
My eyes widened. “Jesus. That’s great they could save it.”
He nodded and began to move forward. “Room 85 if you need someone to talk to. Name’s Zane.”
“Viper.”
We moved on, Zane’s words playing on a loop in my head. I’m just damn thankful to be alive.
He’d lost his entire right leg and yet, he seemed okay. My lower leg was gone and I wanted to give up. My earlier meltdown seemed trivial and stupid.
Another guy passed us. Looked like he’d lost an eye. One arm hung in a sling and he had a deep, stitched wound from his ear, down into the shirt he wore. Fuck!
I sucked in a breath when he still managed to smile at me and my nurse. Was I the only asshole fucked up by his injury? These men, worse than me, somehow coped. Or did they? Were their smiles simply for show? Were they so traumatized by what had happened to them that they too wanted to give up?
War screwed everyone up. The scars on the outside healed, but the ones on the inside never did. Soldiers committed suicide every day because they lived in their own messed up heads. True heroes no one ever heard about. Their names never got plastered on the news. Yet, celebrities grabbed the spotlight for breaking a heel on a shoe or changing their hair color. Nothing could be more insane.
Reaching my room, I halted. A voice I knew better than any, boomed from nearby.
The Lost and Found Series Page 49
