Grayson (This is Our Life Book 1)

by Adams, F. G.

  Darkness surrounds us in the infrared-lit building. Only the whites of our eyes are glowing, a faint red is visible. We’re hunkered down, waiting for extraction. Taking a deep breath and inhaling the stench of mold tickling my sand caked nostrils, the only thing I can think of is how nice an ice-cold beer would be right about now.

  Game time. Sometime later, Radar signals to me, conveying the incoming convoy is almost here, which ignites the team into a rush of adrenaline and anticipation. “Lock and load ‘em, boys. It’s extraction time,” my whisper covers my team via coms. Gathering up our gear, locking our guns down tight, we crouch low, preparing to leave the place of refuge we had found. No noise is heard from the other side of the door.

  Signaling again with a nod of his head, Radar gestures the time is now. Exiting single file, we hug the wall of the darkened building, no shadows and complete silence. A vehicle is close; the noise of the engine is faint. The Humvees sit in the distance, unmanned and ready.

  I motion for Styx and Jacobs to begin moving Aabdar toward the nearest one. Silently, Beauty leads the remainder of the team and I’m flanking the rear. Everyone is in position as the Bradley thunders onto the street, indicating it’s time for action. Gunfire erupts. As we break for the Humvees, adrenaline is high, filling me with a sense of comfort I always get during these fucked-up situations. We begin cramming into the vehicles for cover as the Bradley team shields our movement.

  Bullets sail around through the air, whizzing by my head and legs when a harsh jolt rackets me forward, followed by a sweltering pain. I’m knocked off balance for a brief second then jump into the awaiting Humvee. The smell of copper assaults my nose. I look down to see blood gushing from a wound. “I’m hit!” I grunt from the pain now searing freely through my body.

  "Ella, Ella Bo Bella Banana Fanna Fo Fella Mi My Mo Mella, Ella," sings Savannah as she enters the break room in the emergency room department set up by the army in the middle of the fucking Middle East. "Where's your Dr. McDreamy on this glorious day in the desert?" she inquires while shuffling back and forth between doing the bump and smurfing to the song in her head.

  Laughing at the display and echoing her choice of greeting, I rap, "He's gone, gone baby, down by the poolside," and join in on the dance. We are causing a stir, judging by the stares we receive from the newbies doing their clinicals. "He left after his shift to quote ‘chill by the pool until I get off later today.’" I mimic his earlier facial expressions, causing another round of giggles from us.

  "Ain't life just grand? Lucky little devil," she continues. "If I had a stud muffin like you, I would be taking my leave and finding the closest hammock in the oasis of life." She wiggles her eyebrows up and down. "Bet he's got one hell of a yummy popsicle!"

  "Damn girl, don't you have a filter? And, um, hell yes, I rather like his popsicle too." Winking, I continue, “And one day you’ll find your special flavor," I state.

  It's been five years since my graduation and I've spent them as a soldier and nurse in the United States Army. Savannah and I met in basic training and have been inseparable. The girl's a nut! She hails from Texas, where they grow 'em bigger, if you get my meaning, or so she tells me quite frequently.

  The day I met her, we had finished a five-mile run. I was spent and the drill sergeant in charge wanted more. I almost quit until she got in my face and told me under no uncertain terms, she was not gonna be the only girl left in this platoon and for me to buck it up. Needless to say, I did, and from that moment on we've been the best of friends.

  She pulled me out of my depression. After losing my mom my senior year in high school, my dad up and moved us about forty-five miles west of Lakeview, only to move back once I left home. My options were limited and I decided to opt out of my last year in high school and enroll in a fast-track program at the community college. Within eighteen months, I graduated with my Associates in nursing. The ROTC program allowed my commission into the army as an officer.

  To make matters worse, not only did I lose my mom, but I lost my first love, Grayson Blackwood. I received a letter from him a couple of months after he left for West Point, stating he had met someone new and hoped I would understand that a long-distance relationship wouldn't work and blah blah blah. I never looked back. After graduation, I gathered the few things mom had left me and enlisted. It was my one-way ticket out of the View. Evan followed my lead and is now serving in the navy.

  As I finish my chicken salad, Savannah nudges my arm. "Would you look at that piece of eye-candy walking through the door. Um, um, good. Think I'll mosey on over and see if I can get his name, rank, and digits," she cackles, gathers her trash, and heads toward her newest victim.

  Savannah is drop-dead gorgeous and can drive a man to drink with her sassy mouth. Sometimes it amazes me that we are best friends. She's the opposite of me. She has snow-white hair cut short, accenting her pear-shaped face and mossy green eyes. I have long, curly dishwater-blond hair and almond-shaped blue eyes. She's a perfect ten with an hourglass shape and long, long legs. I'm shorter with a badonkadonk and only a handful of boobs. She's loud, obnoxiously funny, and doesn't know a stranger, while I enjoy sitting back, watching people, blending with the crowd. I guess it's true when they say opposites attract.

  Bets run high with our crew on how long Savannah can keep a guy. Kind of like how to lose a guy in ten days. So far, her longest streak has been eight days. Maybe she can set a new record soon. She's been burned in the past, thus her rule of no attachments allowed. I know that feeling. Been there, done that.

  Before we shipped off on our third tour of duty, Savannah and I went on a double blind date as a game of dare several of the soldiers shared. That's how I met Lieutenant Colonel Michael Barnes. He was the first man I'd been attracted to since Grayson. He was his complete opposite. Tall, dark, and handsome describes the yummy man I’m engaged to. He tempted me with his raven, mussed hair and smoky blue eyes, and before I realized it, we were a couple. Savannah's date, First Lieutenant Steve Rogers, is now one of our best buds. They didn't make it past two days before accepting it wasn't gonna work out for them as lovers.

  Exiting the break room, I begin my rounds checking on my patients.

  An alarm begins blaring over the intercom and a voice sounds off, "Incoming injured. Possible gunshot wounds. No fatalities known." We scurry around, readying the operating rooms for the next patient. Everyone knows their job and we are prepared when the helicopter lands and the injured soldiers are being wheeled down the long corridor toward the operating rooms. Preliminary diagnostics are being done on the fly as we evaluate and disperse.

  Drifting aimlessly, the air of euphoria saturates my body. The next moment, my feet set down on solid ground. Not solid, but warm, sinking sand. Where am I? Looking around cautiously, I notice I’m at the beach, lying on a blanket, and right beside me is Ella. What the fuck? Bluebird snuggles close to my aching body, causing a ripple of peace to rush through me. She peeks up at me with those beautiful blue eyes and mutters, “Grayson, we’re a hundred miles away from the nearest army base.” Wait, what?

  The bumpy movement of the vehicle lurches me awake from my semi-unconsciousness as we make our way further from the deserted town and armed men hunting us. The ache and pain caused from the shock of the bullet entry had sent me into a blackness laced with old memories, and I’m not sure how long I’ve been out. Noticing the golden sun rising from the east is an indication that it’s been a while and responsibilities for my team seeps into my mind. My head throbs when I try to raise myself from the prone position. The unyielding rock of a seat reminds me that my body hurts and soreness has set in, but I’m familiar with pain and can endure it. I hear Beauty mention to Johnny that we are a hundred miles away from the nearest army base with hospital care. Knowing we are heading that way, I request, “Status?”

  Answering automatically, Beauty responds, “A base camp due west of our position for medical. Aabdar and you require medical care, stat.” Steely determination laces his word
s.

  As if on cue, Radar’s voice cracks over the com, offering more details on Aabdar’s status.

  He was shot during the abstraction, and Jacobs finally reduced the blood flow. The evac chopper is meeting in fifteen minutes at the rendezvous point to take the wounded. Yeah, that’d be me. Fuck!

  “Follow to safe zone and await orders,” I mumble, fighting the pain and weariness taking over my mind. “We need intel from Aabdar. What the hell happened back there? We were set up. Figure it out, boys. Need answers yesterday.”

  The chopper appears in the endless blue sky up ahead, descending toward a vacant spot to temporarily land. The metal tail swivels left to right, finding balance to perch on the solid ground. There are no trees in this desolate stretch of land we are traveling, nothing but endless amounts of gritty sand. Dust plums in the air from the twirling propellers as we wait for it to calm enough to depart.

  Medics rush to the first Humvee, where Aabdar is located. He is lifted to a waiting transfer board. He’s unconscious and not moving. Not good. We need answers. The attendants run toward the chopper with him in tow, securing him for flight as an onboard flight medic starts an IV.

  They come back to my Humvee. I’m lifted from the back seat and strapped securely to be carried toward the whirlybird. I clench my jaw painfully from the movement. I’m ready for some good medicine to staunch the aches and pains. A needle pierces my skin and an icy sensation sweeps up my arm. Instantly, the heat from outside dissipates and my eyelids become heavy. The rocking of the bird lulls me to sleep as we lift off the desert floor and accelerate to our destination.

  A white light is blinding me when I try to open my eyes. “Hello, handsome,” a gentle voice says. What the fuck?

  “You’re a little groggy from the anesthesia, aren’t you, hon? No problem. You’re in recovery. Do you remember you were shot in the shoulder? Nothing serious really. A few stitches to seal the hole, and the doc said you’d be good as new. You’ll be up and outta here in no time flat, big boy,” she comments. Nothing serious, my ass.

  “Where am I? Where’s my team?” I inquire. The voice I hear coming from my mouth is cracking and barely above a whisper. My shoulder is throbbing as my head starts to clear. I try to unclog the frog that’s taken root in my throat. “How long have I been out?

  She gives me a quirky smile. “Hold your horses, baby cakes. First off, you’re at the medical center. You came in earlier this morning with another injured soldier. As to where your hunk-o-lious team is, they’re in the waiting room,” she giggles softly as she brings a straw to my dry lips. I gulp greedily like a parched animal. “Not so fast there, cowboy, don’t want that coming back up.”

  I watch as she stands from the stool, sits the cup down on the table, and writes something on a clipboard. She’s humming a song that seems familiar, but I can’t name it. She’s way too happy to be in here with me. I need answers now.

  “When can I see my team?” Feeling a little less thirsty, I ask, not worrying that anger has seeped through my voice. I’m getting pissed at her nonchalant attitude. This chick is hot as hell and definitely not playing with a full deck of cards.

  She continues from the end of the hospital bed and starts taking my vitals. “As soon as we move you to a room, they can visit. Anxious, are we?” She bats her eyes, using her hand to fan her face. Ignoring her, I remain silent.

  The hospital room door opens and the doctor walks forward. Glancing up from the chart in her hands, she grins, “Hello Captain Blackwood, I’m Doctor Kyla Calloway glad you’re back with us. When you arrived, you were a little out of it. Loss of blood, no doubt. The bullet entered your upper shoulder. In and out. No nerve damage. You were very lucky, soldier. We cleaned and stitched both the entry and exit wounds. You will take it easy for the next fourteen days. We will re-evaluate then when you can return to your field assignment. Any questions?” she asks, heading back to the door.

  “How long do I have to stay here? I’ve got men depending on me.”

  “You will be released in the next three to five days. You can return to desk duty then until you are fully released.” Her left brunette eyebrow rises, soliciting further questions. She nods and she’s gone.

  “She’s a whirlwind, but one of the best doctors we have,” the nurse says.

  I had forgotten she was in the room. “Let’s see if they have a room readied yet and get ya moved. Sound good, sugar?” She leaves the room and finally, I’m left alone.

  Replaying the events in my mind, little inconsistencies are noted. A plan forms. I need Beauty. He’ll be my eyes and ears for now.

  Waking up snug and cozy in Michael’s arms comforts the little girl inside me, her need for stability that was missing as a child. Groggily rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I turn to see he’s staring at me. With a smile plastered across his face, he leans in and whispers, “Good morning, beautiful,” capturing my lips in a sizzling kiss. Out of habit in our normal routine, he proceeds to untangle from our embrace to fetch our morning coffee. I watch his muscular ass on display as he leaves the bedroom naked. Perfect. He is sex on a stick as Savannah likes to say.

  When he returns with our coffee in hand and reaches out to hand me one, I sigh. “You are too good to me, Michael.” He settles back down on his side of the bed and we drink our coffee while silence surrounds us, giving ourselves time to wake up as my mind drifts back to the previous night.

  Michael was upset when I came home so late, not at me really, but the situation. He had made a special dinner for us. When I walked in, the candles were barely-lit wax spreading out at the bottom of the holder. Cold, untouched plates of Chicken Alfredo with bread sticks were sitting on the dining room table. Sitting quietly on the leather sofa, he was agitated with dejection written all over his handsome face. I couldn’t blame him after all the trouble he went through making our favorite meal. Clearly, he changed his tune when he found out what was going down at the hospital. But that was Michael; he could get his feelings hurt and quickly recover. Easy to forgive, forget, and forge ahead. Never taking any moment for granted.

  I resigned myself a long time ago that moving on from my past and Grayson was the only way to survive. After the letter he sent...not going there. Then meeting Dr. Michael Barnes, I had a chance to heal. The friendship between us was undeniable, and the rest followed. Not the fireworks I felt with Grayson, but it was pleasant. We share a comfortable passion that appeases my restless soul.

  “So, what would like to do today, babe?” Hearing his voice startles me out of wandering thoughts.

  “Honestly? I’d just like to hang out around here for a little while. I’m still so tired from the long, crazy day yesterday,” I reply to his sweet voice.

  “Okay, babe. Whatever makes you happy.” Sitting his coffee cup on the bedside table, he maneuvers his tall, lanky body to the end of the bed, kissing my legs as he goes. He snatches my feet in his big, capable hands and massages them thoroughly. Mmmmm. He knows what I need.

  Instead of going out later as planned, we decide to stay in for the rest of the afternoon. Lounging around in our pajamas in comfortable companionship. Michael brushing my hair from my eyes and showering sweet kisses all over my face, while we quietly read on the cushy sofa, was just what the doctor ordered!

  Savannah called later in the afternoon to ask if she could come over and play cards ‘or something’ as she put it. She’s always in need of friend action when not on the prowl for a man a.k.a. sex buddy. She’s crazy to the highest power! Love it! Because I can’t say no to her, we get ready for the impromptu evening of fun and games. Michael called Steve to come join in the fun as well. Knowing Savannah wouldn’t mind even though they had tried and failed at a relationship; we’re all still good friends.

  Sitting around the dining table, snacking on pizza, drinking beer, and taking shots of Jack Daniels while playing Cards Against Humanity has to be the pinnacle of my week. The game Savannah brought, CAH is extremely vulgar, hilarious, and fun as hell. Taking turns, th
e person drawing the black card, better known as the Czar, asks a question. Then everyone else chooses a white card from their own deck that they deem the funniest, craziest answer. Shock factor wins every time. The Czar picks one winner, everyone else has to take a shot. Needless to say, Savannah and Steve seem to be winning big time.

  Finally, my turn to be the Czar comes, and the card I pick up makes me blush with the innuendos and answers that are sure to follow.

  “Okay...blank is a slippery slope that leads to blank,” laughter erupts from all of us. Savannah, Steve, and Mike all hand me their two white cards.

  “Alrighty, here we go.” I read the first set of cards. “Shaft is a slippery slope that leads to balls. Good one. Menstruation is a slippery slope that leads to shutting the fuck up! Really nice.” My laughter is getting out of control a bit. “Last one. Mutually-assured destruction is a slippery slope that leads to getting your dick stuck in a Chinese finger trap with another dick. Oh my.” At this point, we are all rolling over in the chairs. Laughing it up. Good times. The Chinese finger trap wins! Of course, those were Steve’s cards, so Savannah and Michael took their shot of whiskey, while I only had to watch.

  We play for a while longer, taking a break to get more food and bathroom breaks. I go into the kitchen to grab more pizza when Savannah comes in after me.

  “So...oh, my fucking goodness, I just have to tell you about the wounded soldier at the hospital,” she’s whispering under her breath. “He is oh so delicious and H-A-W-T, hot, hot, hot.”

  I look at her, puzzled for a moment, wondering where all this is coming from, but it’s Savannah, so I listen intently as she finishes what she has to say.

  “He’s a Captain too. Oohlala! I’d like to giddy-up onto his saddle, if you know what I mean,” she ends with bump and grind movements that send us into a round of giggles and snorts.