Titan: We fell in love — in the cruelest of ways

by Fields, MJ

  In recovery, he’s still angry with Shadows.

  When I walk out into the private waiting room, I see Irons, Shadows, and a few other men.

  “How is he?” Irons asks.

  “He’s awake and as mean as a snake, which I’m taking as a good sign since he went to sleep the same way.”

  “How did the surgery go?” he asks, standing up.

  “It went better than expected. The amputation was below his knee. In a few days, we can fit him with a temporary prosthetic. Then it’s physical therapy. If all goes well, which means if he cooperates, it should take four to eight weeks until he is comfortable and walking on his own.”

  “That’s good news,” Irons says, sitting down at a table across from the one I am standing behind.

  I pull off my blue surgical cap, sit down for the first time in hours, and lean back. “He’ll be in his room in about thirty minutes.”

  “We can take turns staying with him. You should go home.” Irons nods.

  “No, your wife is going to pick up Calee from the childcare center soon. Then she and Lily are going to have another sleepover. I’m going to be here.”

  * * *

  Standing in his room, he opens his eyes and gives a foolish grin. “What’s up, Doc?” The drugs have done their job.

  I nod toward Irons and Shadows. “Your friends are here.”

  His eyes connect with Shadows’. “Only the good die young. The rest of us motherfuckers get to survive.”

  He closes his eyes tightly and shakes his head. “Fuck my life. Fuck my motherfucking life.”

  “We’re here, man. We are here.” Irons takes his hand.

  “I don’t wanna be here, man. I don’t want to fucking be here.”

  “Good. We don’t want you here either. Rest, recover, and we get you out.”

  He looks at Irons, eyes narrowed, tears welling, and then he looks toward the nurse. “Knock me the fuck out.”

  She looks at me for approval, and I nod. Within minutes, he is out.

  Another one of the men, Johnny, walks in and looks at Tanner then at Shadows. “We have a flight to catch.”

  Irons look at him curiously.

  “My girl decided to hop a flight to visit her mom this morning. Left a note, be back for dinner,” Shadows sneers. “Now she’s not answering her phone.”

  That doesn’t sound like the girl who came to visit Shadows and who I’ve seen at every follow-up appointment.

  Shadows looks at Johnny, and Johnny tells him, “Plane’s waiting.”

  “You ready for that?” Irons asks.

  “Ready? For what? To go motherfucking caveman on the girl that is mine, drag her ass back here, and lock her in a room? Yeah, been ready for two hours.”

  “Proceed with caution with Mary, Shadows,” Irons warns. “But the flight; you ready to fly again?”

  “Ain’t no thing, man, ain’t no thing.” He stands and shakes his hand.

  “Not what you said this morning,” Johnny smirks.

  “Don’t bitch at me, man. Your flying is nerve-racking.”

  He looks at me, and I tell him, “You need to make sure you’re taking care of yourself, too. You’re still healing.”

  * * *

  For two weeks, he was in hell, and I was there with him. He went through all the stages of grief rather quickly. Well, all except anger. He took his time with that one. Mostly, he took it out on Shadows, but Shadows never batted an eye or backed down from him.

  When I asked him why he kept coming back, he answered, “Because that fucker in there would do it for me.”

  I didn’t disagree, but I knew the more I distanced myself from him, the more effect I had on him when I was in his room. Sadly, he knew he had the same effect on me.

  Now standing outside his room, reading over another perfect round of lab work, I hear Irons and Shadows talking.

  Shadows asks, “How are things at the beach?”

  “Better than I thought I would ever have. No dinner around a perfectly polished table with no one saying a damn thing. I have Frankie, who talks a mile a minute; Lily, who’s catching up; and my in-laws are there nearly every night. Life is loud. And personally, I like it that way.”

  Shadows laughs. “Good thing you have William Sr. around to even out the estrogen levels.”

  “It’s great to have him around.”

  “My house is a fucking estrogen-filled place of feelings and healing. It’s all good—all of it—but fuck, I need a night with just her. Just my little lamb.”

  “Get a room,” Jaxson suggests.

  “I’ve got a house. Big fucker, too. But damn, I want one night,” he grumbles.

  “Get a fucking room and shut the fuck up. I ain’t had pussy in weeks. Now I ain’t got a leg. You wanna bitch? Get out.” Tanner’s awake and talking like a flyboy.

  For the first time, I hear Shadows unleash on him. “ ’Cause you’re the only one who can bitch in here? Listen up, brother; I got my ass beat for days. I’d have given the fuckers my leg to get out of there, stop being a bitch. Jesus Christ, what is wrong with this world?”

  “You wanna talk about your feelings, go home.” Then Titan adds, “Little bitch.”

  I slowly walk in as Jaxson laughs out loud and Shadows joins him. I then watch as Titan smirks and pulls himself up.

  “You done?”

  “You’re smiling.” Shadows grins.

  “Just stop, man.” Titan shakes his head then looks up at me. “I’m fucking here. Gonna give it a year; see how life goes.”

  “Then what?” Jaxson asks.

  “Then he’ll be fucking happy, Irons.” Shadows hits his arm. “Happy, living loud, getting ass, licking pussy. The good life, man.”

  He looks away from me and leans back. “You ain’t right, Shadows.”

  They all look at me when I clear my throat.

  “Welcome back, Lieutenant.”

  He doesn’t say anything. He simply nods.

  * * *

  Over the next forty-eight hours, I only leave the hospital to pick Calee up from preschool and stay with her until I know she’s asleep. I return home before she wakes then take her back to preschool. William and Rosa stay with her overnights.

  Whenever Tanner wakes, he seeks my eyes, and I give them to him, along with my hand.

  At first, he didn’t know how to take it, but I didn’t let go; only when there’s a room full of staff or his friends are visiting.

  I know when he wakes, he asks for me and, as instructed, the staff tells him when I left and when I will return.

  The next day when I walk in, he’s sitting up. He looks good and sounds even better. Irons is in the room, the two talking.

  “He okay?” Tanner asks.

  “He’s good.”

  “Is everything okay with Shadows?”

  They both look at me, and then Jaxson replies, “Things are great between him and Mary.”

  “So they got that room then?”

  Irons and Tanner both laugh.

  “Can you give me a minute with the good doctor?”

  Without a word, Irons leaves the room.

  Once the door shuts behind him, Tanner crosses his arms over his chest and cocks his head to the side. “I want out, Doc.”

  “As I said, you aren’t ready. Just a few days ago, you were turning this place upside down again.”

  “And you and I both know I’m ready now.”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “You”—he points an accusatory finger at me—“are not ready.”

  “That’s preposterous.”

  “That’s the damn truth. Also the truth, I’m a man of my word. I told you I would help you. I give this a year. I’m not going back on that.”

  “You need more care than you can get at home. Do you even know how to change your dressing? How to massage your leg when the phantom pains begin? Who will bathe you? Cook for you? Pick up—”

  “I can change my dressing; you just haven’t given me the opportunity.
As a matter of fact, I watch you change it when you think I’m sleeping, and I swear to God, you get this twinkle in your eyes when you do.”

  “You bet your ass I do. It’s my best work yet.”

  “Good to know.”

  “And as a doctor, I’m telling you—”

  “The truth, Doc. I want the truth.”

  I shake my head.

  “No what?”

  When I don’t reply, he fills in the blanks. “You want to be the one to take care of me?”

  “So what if I do? I’m vested here.”

  He smirks, and my heart melts a little.

  “It’s deeper than that, and you know it.”

  He nods. “I do know it. But there isn’t a damn thing I can do from here. At home, I have access to a secure line. At home, I can help Shadows. At home, I can discuss the girl freely with men who can do something about it. And Doc, when I’m at home, they’ll trust that I’m mentally capable to do so. Let me the fuck out of here so I can get to work.”

  I start to pace, feeling a little anxious while trying to figure out how to keep him, a man who has no issues whatsoever in taking care of himself and doing a damn good job of it, here.

  “Doc.”

  I stop and look back at him.

  “I’m still going to need your help once in a while.”

  “I think that it’s a little early to think about sex, Lieutenant.”

  He smirks and leans back. “I was talking medically, but I do like the way you think.”

  “You’re a conceited ass.”

  “Confident.”

  I walk over to the side of the bed and run my hands through his hair that now, since it’s longer, has a soft wave to it. I grip it and lean down as he swipes his tongue across his lips.

  “I told you not to fall.”

  His eyes widen at my brutally honest word choice, then narrow. “If I did, it was only in hopes of catching you before you hit the pavement.”

  “You worried I’ll break?”

  “Someone’s bound to, and I’d rather it be me than you.”

  A knock on the door causes me to jump back and him to run his hand down the front of himself, adjusting himself.

  He shrugs and whispers, “Still works.”

  “Your surgeon has good hands.”

  “From what I remember, her mouth isn’t bad either.”

  “Found some wheels. What do you say, Dr. O’Neil? Can we take him for a spin?” Irons asks.

  “I’m going, too.”

  “Then let’s roll,” Titan says as he sits up and carefully moves his leg over the bed. I notice he’s no longer catheterized.

  He notices I notice.

  “Asked for it to be taken out, or I’d do it myself.”

  “You do know that could be dangerous.”

  “I’ve been playing with it for enough years to know how to handle it just fine without a tutorial.”

  Irons laughs, and I can’t help join him. Then I walk behind the chair and hold it as he transfers himself with ease.

  “Like I said, Doc, I’m ready to go home.”

  “Just days ago, you were throwing shit around the room, tied to a bed, and blaming Shadows,” Irons reminds him.

  “Point taken. But now my head’s clear. I can almost guarantee the infection is gone.” He looks at me, but I look away. “Doc?”

  “It is, but you’ll still have pain.”

  “I trust my physician will keep me medicated.”

  “I bet she will.” Irons chuckles, and I glare at him.

  * * *

  As soon as we are outside of the hospital in the courtyard, Tanner looks up at Jaxson. “News on the girl?”

  Jaxson looks at me and cocks an eyebrow.

  “He deserves to know, and so do I.”

  Tanner looks from me to Jaxson. “What do we know?”

  “We believe she’s one of Khaledes’ daughters.”

  “Christ,” Tanner sighs out.

  “Then I assume the staff at the hospital knew this, too. It’s why she was basically kept in confinement and treated—”

  Tanner reaches back and squeezes my hand. Still holding it, he asks, “Is she in danger?”

  “She’s female. I’m sure Khaledes is not even batting an eye at the possibility of her death.”

  “He means from our own people, Jaxson. If they are aware, you and I both know they will use her as a pawn against him.” He squeezes my hand, and I continue. “Is she safe where she is?”

  Irons looks at him. “She’s not there.”

  “Did you contact Peterson, the nurse?”

  “Never had a name.”

  He looks back at me. “You didn’t ask him to look for her?”

  I shake my head. “I wasn’t given any information for what I asked for, so I wasn’t comfortable giving more.”

  “Your father was a Marine; worked for JTF. Why haven’t you gone to him?” Irons asks.

  I look at Tanner, who replies for me, “She came to us, Irons.”

  “Noted.” Irons nods once.

  I look up at him. I can tell he’s questioning why. “If I have to. I will. I’d prefer not to.”

  “We’ll continue the search,” Irons says.

  “I want Johnny on this,” Tanner tells him.

  I make a mental note to ask why Johnny specifically as I try not to cry. As a mother, it’s nearly impossible.

  15

  Released

  Titan

  The afternoon is busy, and I’m anxious to get the hell out of here and find out where the girl is.

  When Laurie walks back into the room, holding the prosthetic leg that I threw more than once when offered, I stare at it.

  “You sure you’re ready for this?”

  “To get the hell out of here, yes. To have that thing attached to me, no.”

  “This is just a temporary. Your leg is swollen and will reduce in size. After a few months, we can get you fitted for a much cooler, more permanent one.”

  “Cooler?”

  “Come on, Lieutenant; this is pretty damn impressive. And believe it or not, in no time, you’ll be back to running and it will feel like part of you. Have a seat, and we’ll talk about how this works.”

  As I sit, she begins explaining everything, stopping every few minutes and asking if I have any questions. Her intelligence is recognizable, even more so than before.

  The first question I ask is when the prosthetic was made and how it happened so quickly, because I don’t recall a cast being done. She tells me the size was done by calculations on a computer program. The next is when I can stop using the crutches with the leg, and she tells me when I’m healed up and the staples are gone. She warns me that I can’t use it longer than one hour and fifty-nine minutes until I’m completely healed and the swelling is gone.

  She then tells me, although I will feel some phantom feelings, like my leg is cold, or hot, or sore, that phantom pains are a whole different demon, and when the nerves that have longer memories than we can imagine realize something is missing, they will raise hell. For that, I will need medication and treatment. I don’t tell her that it has already begun.

  I agree to PT three days a week, here at Portsmouth, knowing she’ll feel better about it. And knowing she’s at ease a bit puts me at ease, too.

  She tells me she wants to do a home inspection to look for possible dangers, and I easily agree for a reason I’m not ready to admit, not yet anyway.

  My need for her to be less worried is getting stronger than my own need to remain calm and in control. It’s a menacing as hell feeling, but one I don’t think I will ever be able to prevent. It’s now part of who I am. She has gotten under my skin, just as much, if not more than I have gotten under hers.

  Then she holds up her clipboard and asks, “Now sound like a good time?”

  “Hell yes, it does.”

  She stands up. “Sign the papers, and I’ll get you home.”

  “Isn’t this the time you normally leave to pick up Ca
lee?”

  She looks at me thoughtfully and nods once.

  “Will this thing scare her away?”

  “No.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  “She can stay a bit later. She’s inquisitive, so you may not—”

  “I can handle a four-year-old, Doc.”

  “You sure you’re up to that challenge?”

  “That’s an affirmative,” I say as I sign my release papers.

  * * *

  “Did you get hewt?”

  “I did.”

  “Did my mommy save you in Gemini?”

  Hewt. Gemini. Calee doesn’t use her Rs.

  “She did.”

  “Did she cut off you’s leg?”

  “Calee,” Doc scolds her.

  I laugh. “She did.”

  “Did it hewt?”

  “I was asleep, so it didn’t hurt a bit.”

  “Awe you mad at hew for cutting off you’s leg?”

  “No. If she hadn’t, I would have probably died.”

  “Infec … infect … in—”

  “Yes, I had an infection.”

  “Awe you conta … contag … cont—”

  “Contagious?” I ask.

  She nods her head up and down quickly. “Yeah, that.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Good, ’cause I got stwep fwot once ’cause Bwook picked hew bugas and didn’t wash hew hands.”

  “I promise, if I pick my boogers, I’ll wash my hands.”

  “Ew!” She laughs.

  “He doesn’t pick his nose, Calee. He uses a tissue,” Doc says, white-knuckling the steering wheel. I’m not sure why her being uncomfortable makes me want to make her more so, but it does.

  “But if I did, I’d wash my hands.”

  She laughs again, and Doc glances over, rolling her eyes at me.

  “One time, Timmy had pink eyes, and I woke up with eye bugas ’cause he didn’t wash his hands eitha.”

  “Eye boogers are the worst.” I smile back at her.