by Joy Jenkins
They had barely stepped out when Carter's father appeared. He hurried forward, a tidal wave of emotions playing across his face. Before he could sweep Carter up into a hug, Donovan took a step forward and raised his hand.
"She's injured," Donovan rushed to say. "Bruised ribs, possibly fractured, a cut that needs stitches, and a minor concussion."
Her father swallowed down his emotions and stepped over to Carter. Tears of relief sprung to her eyes.
"Sarge," her father said, gently encasing her in his arms.
Carter leaned into him, a fresh wave of exhaustion hitting her.
"Come on, Donny," Brock said. "Deputy Townsend wants to meet you."
Donovan gave Carter one final look and left with his brother. It seemed hours before Carter's father let go of her, even then she didn't want him to. The rim of his eyes were red. Carter shivered as a breeze whispered past her bare arms. Her father quickly slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. It smelled clean and familiar.
"You got my message," Carter said.
She felt utterly weak and knew if it weren't for her father's strong hands gripping her arms, she would most likely crumple to the ground.
"I was worried you were running away for a moment. Especially after…" A lump lodged itself in Carter's throat. "Come on, let’s get you to the ambulance."
Carter let herself be guided by her father's unyielding hold on her shoulders. Inside her was a hurricane of exhaustion, pain, and sadness. All three things seemed to battle for the top spot, the weight of them all clouding her mind.
A medic waited at the back of an open ambulance. The sight of the open van and the gurney snapped Carter from her thoughts. She pulled away from the man as he stepped towards her.
"I'm not leaving," she said. "Not until Link is okay."
Her father stared down at her, his refusal ready in his eyes.
"Sarge," her father said, her name a warning.
"No," she said, determination giving her a spark of energy. "I just dealt with men twice my size to make sure he was okay. I'm staying until I see that."
A shadow passed over her father's face and his mouth became a thin line. "You shouldn't have been put in that situation in the first place.”
Carter knew he was talking about Donovan. "Captain, I was the one who forced him to take me along. I wasn't about to let him go into an unknown situation without backup."
"But he let you get hurt."
She smiled wearily. "I'll heal."
Her father stared at her, all his worry and fear plain in his eyes. He tightened his hold on her arms as if to reassure himself that she was there.
"I'm okay now," she said. "Thanks for coming for me."
He softened. "I will always find you. That’s a promise -"
"And a threat," Carter finished for him.
Someone approached them.
"Agent Owens," he said. "Deputy Townsend is ready for you."
Her father nodded but spoke to the medic. "Take care of her.”
"Yes, sir."
Her father kissed the top of her head and left. Carter watched him disappear around a car and a horde of moving workers. Carefully, she climbed onto the lip of the ambulance and sat down to wait.
Chapter 54
The medic checked Carter’s vitals, cleaned and stitched the cut on her arm, and did a preliminary check of her injured ribs. Finished, he bandaged her up, gave her something for the pain, and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders.
Carter tugged the edges of the thick blanket closer to her, watching the hive of activity. Beyond the cordoned off area, she glimpsed TV vans and the lights of filming equipment. Reporters stood before cameras giving general facts about the state of the museum and their speculations.
Donovan appeared from the busy crowd, his posture upright but his expression worn out. When he spotted Carter, he lightened. Carter felt the beginnings of a smile as he stopped before her. From her perch on the back of the ambulance, they were almost at eye level.
"Link?" she asked.
"They are still doing a sweep of the museum. I won't be able to get in until they are done. I came to see how you are doing." He studied her. "How are you doing?"
For a second she didn't reply, taking him in. "Better now."
A quiet moment slipped by as the world continued to rage on around them. It was as if they were a stone in the center of the stream, untroubled. A breeze gusted by whipping up stray pieces of Carter's hair. Donovan caught the strands, sweeping them away from her face. He held them down, his fingers becoming tangled in her hair. With his other hand he lightly traced the bruise on her cheek, then the one on her jaw.
"Does it hurt?" he asked.
"Hmmm?" With her eyes locked on his, the world was a blur. Nothing else seemed real except the feel of his fingers.
He smiled, brushing his thumb over her lips. The feel of it sent sparks of electricity coursing through her.
"If you don't kiss me now," she said, "I'll punch you."
He grinned wider and leaned in, hovered just above her lips, their breath intertwining.
He kissed her slowly as if he knew he had all the time in the world to savor the moment. Everything disappeared and nothing else existed except Donovan and his lips pressed against hers. His lips were caring and they sent the pain and exhaustion away. He broke from her, resting his forehead on hers.
"I've been wanting to do that since the second day I knew you, when you almost broke Finch's wrist," he said.
A breathless smile tugged at Carter's lips. "Then why didn't you?"
"Conflicting interests."
"Well," she said, "since I just got beat up trying to protect Link, I say the interests are no longer conflicting."
He kissed her again. This time there was a smile behind it. She placed her hand on his chest, gripping his shirt, and drawing him closer. Donovan dropped his hand to her waist, tightening his hold.
A deep, angry growl made them both freeze. "Get away from my daughter before I shoot you."
Donovan jerked away as if Carter was made of fire. Before he stepped out of reach, she grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers through his.
"Captain, you know Donovan," she said, her tone light, "He's a Marine."
Her father's scowl deepened. Carter grinned as Donovan tightened his hold on her hand.
"Do you hate me, Sarge?" her father asked.
"I say we give him a chance," she said. "He did just save my life. I say if he can't last five minutes in a fight with you, you can shoot him."
Donovan looked at her. "Thanks."
"Don't worry, he will probably only shoot you in the shoulder. Not a big deal. Besides, you'll have a cool scar and all girls love that."
With his eyes captured by hers, Donovan seemed to forget about her father. "Does that include you?"
"It does."
He shifted closer to her.
"Then I'll shoot you now," Carter's father said, "and you can have that scar."
Donovan jolted back into the awareness of her father. The scowl was there but it lacked any true malice.
"I came to collect you," Carter's father said. "The museum is cleared. We're about to go retrieve your charge.” Dropping Carter's hand, Donovan cleared his throat. He straightened, trying to regain a sense of professionalism. Carter's father did not look impressed. "On the way there, we'll have a little chat."
Donovan glanced at Carter. She tried to give him a reassuring smile but knew it didn’t help that she was laughing on the inside. Steeling himself, Donovan walked towards her father. Steve placed a hand on his shoulder. Carter could tell by the shift in Donovan's stance that her father’s hold was bone-crushing.
She smiled to herself and wrapped the blanket tighter, watching as they disappeared. A minute later, a group of men, including her father and Donovan, entered the museum. She kept her gaze trained on the doors, waiting. The minutes passed with no movement from the entrance but a steady flow of activity around her.
; An increase in volume from beyond the wooden barriers caught Carter's attention away. A convoy of cars, bearing the Presidential flags, arrived. As they passed beyond the barriers, reporters shouted for attention, eager for more information. The line of vehicles stopped but no one emerged. Deputy Townsend walked over to the center car and spoke with someone inside.
The museum doors opening snapped Carter's focus back. A pack of men in black emerged, their bodies closely pressed together, forming a shield. Carter craned her neck, wanting to catch a glimpse of Link or Donovan. When they were under the cover of the makeshift city of vehicles, the unit separated.
Donovan and Carter's father led Link away, blocking him from the prying cameras. The trio stopped before Carter. A wide grin split her mouth as she looked into Link's groggy face. He blinked a few times, still trying to wake himself up. Removing his glasses, he palmed his eyes. He focused on Carter and a matching smile pulled at his sleepy expression.
"Who managed to beat you up?" he asked, replacing his glasses.
"Some guy I insulted," she said.
"It was bound to happen at some time."
His voice and his lighthearted expression made the last bit of worry in Carter's chest vanish. Seeing him unconscious and vulnerable was something she never wanted to witness again. "I'm glad you're okay.”
"Thanks for making that possible."
She nodded. Her father and Donovan talked quietly a foot away. Though she couldn't hear what they were saying, she could tell that the antagonism between them was no longer there.
In the convoy of cars, doors opened and men in suits climbed out. Following behind one of them was the President. Instantly, a barrier of men formed a circle around him. All eyes landed on that point, including Link and Carter's.
The group surged toward Smith and a tired-looking Mason. When they were close, the circle parted and the President embraced his son. But even as he did, Carter noted the tension in Mason. If Mason’s anger at learning the truth about Link was any indication, a storm was brewing for the two of them.
Carter’s thoughts on the relationship vanished as she noticed Link wilt. She took hold of Link’s hand, gripping it. The pressure brought his gaze to her. The look of sadness in his eyes nearly sent her marching over to the President to give him a slap equivalent to the one she’d given his son. She let her thoughts play out across her face. The sight of her righteous indignation made Link smile. He squeezed her hand back.
"It's life, I guess," he said.
"It doesn't mean it's okay."
"No. It doesn't." The words were weighed down with sorrow that Carter understood.
As Mason was led to one of the cars, the President cut a path in their direction. At the sight of his father walking toward him, Link tightened his hold on Carter's hand as if he needed to steal some of her strength. She echoed his hold, letting him know she was there. The solid group of black suits split and the President stepped forward. Instead of going to Link, he directed his attention to Carter's father.
"Agent Owens," President Douglas said. "I was told you lent a hand in helping this situation not turn out as terrible as it could have been. I want to offer my gratitude."
He stretched out his hand and Steve shook it. Carter saw the respect that passed between the two men. But it didn’t change how her heart sank at seeing them together. Knowing her father would be a shield once again for two more years.
"I played a very small role, sir," her father said. "Agent Keller and my daughter were the ones who did the most."
Douglas shifted to Donovan. But before he shook Donovan’s hand, he looked at Link. In his face, he betrayed a strong desire to hug his son. The President didn't act on this instinct, knowing enough people were watching him. His eyes told the story of the shame, grief, regret, and love that lay between them. Link held Carter's hand firmly, needing something to anchor him to the spot. Something that would stop him from reaching for his father.
When President Douglas reached out his hand to Donovan, the moment broke. Link loosened his grip on Carter's hand and his shoulders sank.
"Agent Keller, thank you for all that you did," President Douglas said, his gratitude heavy with meaning.
"Thank you, Mr. President."
When President Douglas released Donovan's hand, he thanked Carter. She restrained herself from breaking his wrist. Link standing beside her was the only thing that held her back. With one final look at Link, the President nodded. "I'm glad you are all safe," he said. He glanced at Carter's father. "I look forward to your return, Steve."
"As do I, Mr. President," her father said.
The words laid a burden on Carter's heart and dropped sadness into her eyes. Douglas became enclosed in the circle of men and guided away to the car. Link stood there staring after him, lost. Donovan placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sure your mother is going out of her mind with worry," he said. "Let's get you to her."
Link nodded, unable to talk.
"You should get your ribs checked out," Carter said to Donovan.
"I will, once he is safe at home." Donovan looked as if he wanted to kiss her before leaving but was all too aware of her father standing only a few feet away. "Thank you," he said instead. “Good-bye.”
Impulsively, Carter reached out and cupped the back of Donovan's neck. She brought his lips to hers, ignoring the growl from her father. When she let go, Link gaped at them.
"So...you two...kissing...and..." He widened his eyes. "Are you sure this is wise? I hate to think about what happens if it ends. Someone is likely to die."
After facing dangerous odds together, Carter knew that would never happen.
"I guess it's a good thing I'm a great shot," she said.
Donovan smirked but he sobered when Carter's father came into view. He nodded to him. "Sir."
Donovan led Link away, glancing back once at Carter. Her father stood before her and their eyes met. For a moment neither of them spoke, the air electric with conflicting thoughts and emotions.
"You're going back," she said. "Two years?"
The quiet sadness in her father's eyes was all the confirmation she needed. She dropped her head with renewed weariness.
"Carter," he said, a note of conviction in his voice, "I know you can't understand this but I'm not only trying to protect the leader of our nation but also a friend, someone I have spent the last six years serving. If I didn't see President Douglas through his term and something happened to him, I would feel it was my fault. It's not about honor or sacrifice, it's about doing something in my gut I know I have to do." Though his face remained calm and serious, she caught the glint of determination in his eyes. "I know that won't make sense to you but it's what I need to do."
Carter said nothing. She understood what he was talking about. The feeling he described was the same one that had sent her looking for Link, sent her diving into an unknown situation without a second thought. Her best friend had been in harm’s way and she would have done anything to keep him safe. Though she now understood why, it didn't mean her heart wasn't aching. In that moment, she still felt like a battered girl with a bruised heart.
Tears pooled in her eyes. They slid from beneath her closed lids and plopped onto the ground, darkening the gravel.
"Sarge," her father said, gently.
It took her a long minute to raise her head. When she did, looking back at her were the same caring, blue eyes that she grew up trusting.
"I get it, Captain."
"I love you, Sarge," he said, fiercely.
"I know."
Her father hugged her and she rested in his steady hold. Tiredness crept up on her and her eyelids dipped. Her father laid a hand on her shoulder, keeping her from falling over. He called to the medic. "What's the verdict?"
"Her second, third, and fourth ribs on her left side are bruised, not broken. She suffered a minor concussion and her cut is taken care of."
"Can I just go home then?” Carter asked.
Her father
looked about to protest but the medic spoke first. "You could. At the hospital they would tell you the same thing, advise plenty of rest and ice packs to help reduce swelling. You can take a basic painkiller to help with the pain."
"Let's go home, Captain,” Carter said.
Her father studied her, debating. When she started to lean to the side, fatigue dragging her down, he decided. “Okay.” He nodded to the medic. "Thank you."
Carter slipped off the edge of the van, leaving the blanket behind. Her father wrapped a steadying arm around her shoulders and guided her to the car. Opening the door for her, he helped her into the passenger seat.
"I'll be right back," he said.
He shut the door and Carter rested back against the headrest. By the time her father returned, she was fast asleep.
◆◆◆
The gentle call of her name roused Carter. She blinked. They were back at their apartment. A light rain had started and the patter sounded soothingly on the car roof. Carter shifted and pushed herself up. Pinpricks of pain darted through her body and she closed her eyes. Her father rested a hand on her shoulder.
"Can you walk?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yeah."
Slowly, she unbuckled and as she reached for the door, her father opened it. Exhaustion hung from her every limb. Her thoughts felt sluggish. Every injury sent her reminders when she moved. Her father half lifted, half helped her out of the seat.
The misty rain felt refreshing. The air smelled clean, the toxins from the city getting washed away. They made a slow progression up the stairs, the tapping of their shoes on the metal echoed in the quiet neighborhood. Her father went to insert his key into the door as it swung open. Maggie stood on the other side, a bundle of worry and tears. As they entered, the light fell around Carter's face.
"Oh, Hon!" Maggie choked, seeing the red bruises along Carter's face. She covered her mouth. "Steve told me something happened."
Despite the fatigue and ache in her body, Carter couldn't help but smile. "It's not as bad as it looks.”
