“You did. You were so smooth, and I remembered being the calm one. It pissed me off that I’m not anymore, so I got mad at you.”
“Reasonable,” Finn nodded.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Drake demanded to know. “He was wiping the floor with you. That was not reasonable. He was a dick of epic proportions.”
“No, I have a dick of epic proportions, get it right,” Clint smirked.
Finn laughed. “At least you still have a sense of humor. That’s good. You’re going to need it. Now, do you want to blow this chicken coop, or not?”
Clint leaned forward. “You bet I do.”
“Then come clean. What are you doing to aggravate your headaches and your moods? How did you go from chipper to an asshole in the space of a half-hour? According to the nurse you slept in, and you weren’t in too much pain. You also passed your orientation questions. So, give.”
Clint thought about it and made a decision. He reached behind him into his pillowcase and pulled out the cheap phone.
Finn raised his eyebrow.
Drake shook his head. “Dumb as a fucking rock. Like Dex said, you’re your own worst enemy. Now give that to me,” Drake said as he swiped it out of Clint’s hand.
“No wonder you’re hurting Lydia’s feelings.” Finn’s voice was soft.
“Leave Lydia out of this. I know what I’m doing.”
“Sure you do,” Drake derided. “Just like I knew what I was doing with Karen. I’m damn lucky she agreed to marry me.”
“Truth,” Clint and Finn said simultaneously.
“Again, they don’t think this is a debilitating brain injury based on how cognitively aware you were when you woke up. They did an MRI in Germany. There were some organic issues, but they want to compare the MRI they plan to take four months from then. They want to see if there is more deterioration, that will tell the big picture,” Finn explained.
“Hell, of course there are some organic issues. You were always kind of a health nut who ate organic food. Add that to the blast that blew you sideways and there you go,” Drake piped up. “What can you remember of the mission?”
“Nothing. Not a damn thing. You said Syria, right?”
Both men nodded.
“So, are you going to fill me in or not?”
“It was just another clusterfuck with wings,” Drake said. “Some senator had a bug up his ass to interview a Kurdish rebel, and even more, try to broker some kind of peace deal with al Assad.”
“Are you shitting me?” Clint couldn’t believe the stupidity.
“Exactly.”
“The senator’s name wouldn’t be, Leonard, would it?” Clint asked.
“Is the mission coming back to you?” Drake asked excitedly. “They never thought that would be a possibility.”
“No.” Clint tipped his head toward the phone that Drake was still holding. “I read something about the ass, and for some reason, his name tripped a switch with me.”
“Well, your instincts were spot on, that’s the guy, all right.” Drake pulled out his own phone and started a search.
Clint turned to Finn. “So, what else happened? Give me deets.”
“It was just supposed to be a normal extraction. Six civilians. Like you surmised, Senator Leonard was one of them. Three of his aides and two reporters. Unfortunately, al Assad had just done a major push against the Kurds in Idlib, which is where they were, so we had a shit-ton of Kurds looking to get to Turkey. It was a mess. Meanwhile, these six were embedded like a tick on a hound. The senator wasn’t leaving until he had a meet with Kurdish rebels, preferably higher-ups.”
“Yeah, that should have been easy,” Clint said sarcastically.
“He fell into it with an aide and a reporter. Meanwhile, the other two aides and reporter were separated. We had to babysit them while finding the senator.”
“Lovely.”
“You were in charge of communications and found out we had a Syrian terrorist group headed our way.” Finn continued.
“Just what we needed,” Drake said grimly. “They were armed with anti-aircraft guns on their trucks.”
“We needed to round up everybody and get the hell out of there,” Finn explained.
“Yeah, and I got stuck babysitting the demon-spawn aide from hell. I’ve never met a bigger douche-bag. Anyway, Mason, Darius, and you ended up finding where the senator was meeting with the rebels just when he had a gun to his head. The three of you managed to get him the hell out of there, by magic.”
Clint snorted at Drake’s description.
“You hightailed it back to Drake when you realized how close the trucks were. You wanted to help him. God knows why,” Finn winked.
“Don’t tell me—it was that stupid move that got me in this hospital bed.”
Drake held up his hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I would have done the same thing to save your sorry ass,” he grumbled.
“So, what happened?”
“You decided to do the hero bit. You faked out the anti-aircraft guns, had them pointing to one building that you were on, so Drake and the civilians could make their escape from the building next to it. Hotshot that you are, you figured you could jump from that building to the one Drake was on, but they fired. Somehow, because you have the luck of all the Norse Gods on your side, you got one foot onto the roof, and Drake was able to drag you all the way onto it.”
“Seems to me, Drake’s the hero.”
“Hell, I wouldn’t have been alive to save your ass if it hadn’t been for you. Nope, you won the sweepstakes. Could have done without saving Deadwood, though.” Drake held out his phone and handed it to Clint. At least it had a larger screen than the one he’d been using. He saw a picture of some balding, squinty-eyed guy who seemed full of himself. There was something about his eyes.
“He’s shifty. I wouldn’t trust him,” Clint said as he passed back the phone. “Should he mean something to me?”
Drake sighed. “I was hoping he would. He’s the aide that caused so many problems for us. He was shifty, all right. He’d sell out his grandmother for an interview on any network. He was taking video of us, and here he is a member of a senator’s staff. He knows the rules—no filming a SEAL. But he was trying to film us anyway.”
“Did he get away with it?”
“Nah, we stopped him. We destroyed both of his phones.”
Clint nodded in appreciation. Having their faces recognized almost had all of them killed not so long ago. He rubbed his temple.
“Good one, Drake,” Finn glared at the big guy.
“What?”
“You just confiscated Clint’s phone, but you had him looking at yours. Look at him, you can tell a headache is brewing.”
“Fine, he’ll be an asshole, we can cope,” Drake grinned. “Bring your worst, Clint.”
“Lydia’s going to show up; you want him taking out his mood swing on her?” Finn chastised.
“Quit talking about me like I’m not in the room. I’m not going to turn into Mr. Hyde.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. You still don’t know what’s going to happen. That’s the problem. Take it from somebody who knows.” Finn smiled kindly.
“I’m. Not. Going. To. Turn. Into. The. Hulk.” Clint ground out. He was getting really pissed.
“Look at him, do you see him turning green?” Drake laughed. “Any minute his hospital jammies will split open.”
“Shut the fuck up, Drake. I really don’t need your shit right now, feel free to leave!” Clint grabbed the rail of the bed so hard it shook as he pointed at the door.
“See what he’s doing, Finn?” Drake shook his head in pity.
Clint grappled with the mechanism that would lower the rails.
“Clint,” Finn said softly. “Take a deep breath.”
“Fuck you, Crandall.”
The bed rail lowered. His hand slipped as he tried to get out of bed. Drake caught him and struggled to lie him back against the pillows as Clint raged.
Finn
stood to the side of Drake. “Do you want the nurses to see this? It’ll put back your chances of discharge.” Again, Finn’s tone was calm and reasonable as he touched the middle of Clint’s chest. “Take a deep breath. You don’t want to be angry.”
Clint looked from Finn to Drake and back again. He was confused and pissed off.
“It’s going to be all right, man.” Drake’s voice was solemn. “One easy breath. You can do it.”
Clint’s mouth was as dry as a desert, but he took a shallow breath and held it.
“Good. Now, exhale slowly,” Finn urged.
He tried, he really did, but it came out as one big gasp.
“Try again, but inhale through your nose.”
Clint did what Finn said, inhaling through his nose, then slowly exhaling through his mouth. He kept focusing on Finn’s calm tone of voice as he had him do it again and again and again.
“Better now?” Finn asked.
“What do you mean?” Clint asked.
“Are you angry?”
“About what?”
“Dude, you were about ready to go ten rounds with me.” Drake looked at him bewildered.
“Shut the hell up, Drake,” Finn said in the same calm voice he’d been using as he told Clint to breathe in and out. “How do you feel, Clint?”
Clint racked his brain. “Disoriented.” He looked down at his jumbled sheets and the bed rail. Then it came back to him. But he wasn’t angry. Instead, he was remembering what was said dispassionately. “Sorry, guys, I was out of line.”
“Happens,” Drake said as he sat back down.
Clint closed his eyes, then looked upwards. “But for pity’s sake. It took two of you to get me under control. What happens when it’s just Lydia?”
“That’s where you come in,” Finn said. “You’re going to have to become more aware of what is going on and come up with some safe words that people can say to you that will stop you in your tracks. It’s going to take training and a lot of time and patience.”
“I can’t do this to Lydia. I can’t.”
“She’s going to be the most important person in your recovery,” Finn disagreed.
“She’s going to be the biggest victim,” Clint said wearily. “She needs to stay away. How am I going to tell her?”
14
“Finn said to wait for him here.”
Lydia was frustrated. It seemed like everybody was telling her what she should and shouldn’t do. She didn’t have control of anything in her life. She was currently suspended from her job, or on leave, it was totally up in the air. Her mother was a basket case. The only two things going right were that Mason was home to support Sophia, and Jack was home with Beth. She hated to admit it, but that took some of the heat off her because she’d been trying to encourage them from afar when her life was going down the toilet.
“Honey? Did you hear me?” Angie gently touched her shoulder.
It took everything Lydia had not to shrug it away. “I’m sorry, I was in my own little world, what did you say?”
“Finn has some ideas that he wants to run by you before you go and visit Clint this afternoon.”
“Angie, I already feel bad enough, not having been there this morning.”
She’d stayed up ’til four in the morning, so that’s why she got up so late. Even though she was on suspension, that didn’t mean she was leaving all the victims to fend for themselves. There was one woman who was being cyberstalked by her stepfather and it was escalating. Nobody but Lydia was taking it seriously, so even with just her laptop, she was doing her best to stay on the trail. She needed to get home to her real computer set-up where she could really dig in.
There was one other case that was giving her the heebie-jeebies. It was a family that had all of their social media accounts hacked and taken over by someone calling themselves Satan. Then this person had taken over their phones and last she’d checked, they had been streaming satanic videos on-line on their TV. Lydia was close to finding out where the breach had started. Now that was something the Cyber Crimes Unit was working on, but they hadn’t gotten as far as Lydia had. She had to bring in some of her hacker friends, STAT.
“Lydia. I’m glad you’re still here,” Finn said as he walked through the sliding glass doors of the hotel lobby.
“Would someone please tell me what is going on?” She was tired, and one cup of coffee had not gotten the job done. She couldn’t understand why people were trying to keep her away from Clint. She saw Drake over Finn’s shoulder. He tipped his chin in her direction.
“Why don’t we go sit down,” Finn suggested, pointing to a secluded section of chairs near a fireplace.
“I’ll get you another cup of coffee,” Angie offered. “How about you two, want one?”
“I’d kill for one,” Drake said.
“Tea for me, Honey.” Finn gave her a loving smile.
As soon as they sat down, Lydia spoke. “Will somebody please tell me what in the Sam Hill is going on, before I have Angie bust a cap in your knee?”
Drake chuckled. “I suppose that’s directed at me, since Angie probably won’t shoot her husband.”
“I don’t care who talks, as long as someone does, and that it makes sense.” She could hear the waver in her voice, and she didn’t like it. But there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Finn leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. “Lydia, Drake, and I just got back from the hospital,” he began.
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Clint is becoming more consciously aware of his mood swings.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“Well, when he turns into a raging asshole, and I hold him down and Finn tells him to take deep breaths, he gets his head back into the game pretty fast.”
“Was that your attempt at being funny, Drake? Because if so, it failed.” Lydia glared at the man who was as big as her brother-in-law, Jack Preston, without the tact.
“Unfortunately, that’s pretty much how it came down, Lydia,” Finn said calmly.
She turned to him and wanted to cry. They couldn’t be talking about her man. Clint wouldn’t be in such a rage that he needed to be held down. She’d seen him cutting and abusive, but not getting physical.
Liar.
Lydia shook her head. She didn’t want to dwell on facts. She wanted to live in an alternate universe. She was good at that. Right now, she wanted things the way they used to be. If not that, she wanted things the way they should and would be in four months. She didn’t like this reality.
She sucked in a deep gasp.
“Just tell me, Finn.”
“Drake and I kept him calm before the hospital staff could get involved. I’m not sure that was the best thing, though. They might release him to a rehabilitation center before he’s ready, and then he’ll end up failing.”
“He wants out of the hospital, and I want him out of the hospital. Jack’s already lined up a rehab place in Palm Desert that sounds perfect for him that would work on his physical and mental issues. They would determine if he needs inpatient or outpatient treatment. It’s outside of the Navy Insurance benefits, and Lord knows my bennies are precarious. But Jack is footing the bill. From what I’ve read on-line this place sounds perfect for Clint.”
Drake pulled out his phone. “What’s the name of it?”
“Desert Vista Renewal.”
“Sounds like some girly spa, where you get your nails done,” Drake protested.
“Shut up and Google it,” Finn gave Drake a dark look.
“If it’s outpatient, there’s a place nearby where we would stay. It’s perfect, because we would each get individual counseling as well as shared counseling. He would get all the therapy he needs. Even if it’s inpatient, I would still get the counseling.”
“But you would be alone with him at night, right, if it’s outpatient?” Drake winced.
“What’s wrong with that?” Lydia demanded to know.
“That�
�s what we wanted to share with you. His rage was out of line. He was like Jekyll and Hyde. If it took the two of us to get him calmed down, how are you going to manage it?” Drake wanted to know.
“It didn’t take two of us,” Finn protested. “You kept pressing his buttons. You could have helped calm the situation down so that it didn’t escalate, Drake.”
“So, what you’re saying is that Drake fucked with him, and as long as I handle things right there won’t be any problem?” Lydia glared at Drake.
Both men looked uncomfortable.
“What?” she asked as she looked between the two of them. They were silent.
“Just spit it out. I don’t have time for this. I want to get to the hospital and see Clint.”
“Lydia,” Finn started. “When I was in the real throws of a PTSD episode, I didn’t know where I was, or what was reality. I’m not saying it’s the same thing for Clint, but he’s feeling totally out of control. He’s been trained to fight or fight. There is very little flight in his repertoire. So, his normal mode is aggression, not tears. That’s the normal way his moods are going to manifest. Unfortunately, that aggression is going to be pointed at whoever is around at the moment. If you’re with him all the time, that’s going to be you.”
“I’m a cop. I can handle it.” There was no way she was going to show either of them anything but a strong front.
Finn looked up and stood. Lydia looked over her shoulder. Finn helped Angie pass out the hot beverages, and then settled her into another chair.
“So, what’d I miss,” she asked in a cheery voice. She was totally faking it. Lydia knew her friend could feel the tension in the air.
“All we’re saying, Lydia, is that he’s a keg of dynamite, and he might continue to be so for more than a minute. You staying at this posh place in Palm Desert together might not be the best thing ever.” Drake’s eyes were kind.
Lydia blinked fast. When even Drake’s words were soft and compassionate, she had to be worried.
“I told you I can handle it. I just need some ideas. Some tools and direction. Everything I’ve read said that he’d do better with his support system there with him. I am not going to let him down.”
Her Unbroken Seal: A Navy Seal Romance Page 10
