The Doctor's Nanny
Page 40
I can’t let him hurt Drake. I must stay between them no matter what, the second I’m out of the equation, Drake’s dead. I can see it in Jayden’s wild eyes. He’s beyond help, the taut rubber band holding his shit together has snapped.
I’ve never heard him talk about his time overseas. I thought he was one of the well-adjusted people who fought in the war and came back to regular life without being affected. He never showed signs of PTSD, but then again, I wasn’t around much.
Three shadows move past the kitchen window behind Jayden so fast I wonder if my mind is playing tricks on me. But when Drake pinches my waist at the same time, I know it wasn’t my imagination. Someone is here to help.
“Jay, listen to me, you need to put the gun down before somebody gets hurt. You don’t want to accidently shoot Tiana, do you?”
“I’m an expert marksman, you know that. I don’t miss, especially at point blank range, and that’s how you’re going down.”
“I know you are. Remember when we were on top of that old building in Yemen and that sniper took a shot at us? You took him out before I could drop down.”
Drake is trying to distract him with a walk down memory lane, but I’m not so sure patting him on the back for killing someone is the best strategy.
“He was lame, at least a klick off, never would have hit us.”
“But you got him and you saved my ass. Thank you, man.”
Jayden’s face twists with confusion. His eyes glaze over and he lowers them to think. He is lost in another place and his rifle is pointing downward when the sound of glass shattering and breaking wood explodes around us.
In an instant, Drake has turned me around and curved his body around mine to protect me. Smoke fills the room and I cover my mouth while Drake hurries me toward the door.
People dressed in black with gas masks are yelling and rushing into the kitchen. Jayden is screaming and then a gun is fired. Drake tenses up around me, gripping me harder until we are outside. Crouching down, Max leads us to an ambulance waiting in the street.
I can still hear my brother screaming and cursing at whoever it is that just stormed his house. They’re definitely not local police unless the Chief had everyone SWAT-trained in the past couple of days. These men are swift and organized pulling off our extraction with precision and efficiency.
“Are you okay?” Drake’s hands are all over me checking for injuries when we reach the ambulance. Max opens the door and Drake puts his hands on my waist to lift me in, but I take hold of the door and stop him.
Two armed men are leading my brother out struggling and thrashing every inch of the way, despite their best efforts to keep him under control. He’s handcuffed and bleeding from his lip, yelling obscenities and deranged comments. Seeing him like this breaks my heart. How did he go from watching over me to obsessing over me? I want to calm him with soothing words and the warmth of my hand on his cheek but I know that’s impossible. He needs professional help.
“Where are they taking him?” I ask.
Drake follows my gaze to Jayden. “Jail or maybe the base for a psychiatric evaluation first. I’m not sure, but we need to get you out of here.” He pries my fingers from the door and lifts me in where two paramedics are waiting to check me over.
I sit on the gurney and look back at Drake. He’s pale and wincing. He reaches for his side and that’s when I see blood spreading from a hole in his shirt.
“Oh my God, Drake, you’re hurt.” I scramble down and steer him toward the ambulance.
“He needs to lie down, hurry,” I say to the paramedic but he’s already jumping out to slide the gurney onto the ground.
“It’s not bad, Tiana, just a graze.”
“You don’t know that for sure, we have to get you to a hospital.”
“She’s right, sir, you’ve been shot, we need to get you there right away,” the paramedic says helping him onto the gurney.
“Are you okay? Check yourself over, you’re in shock.”
I look down at myself and back at him shaking my head, “I’m fine.”
“Max, where are Mona and Amari? Are they alright?” Max has appeared from nowhere again, on my right.
“Yes, sir, they’ve been cleared. I sent them back to their hotel.”
His eyes close and he relaxes back against the gurney.
“We need to go, ma’am,” one of the paramedics says to me. “Are you sure you’re not injured? We can look if you want.”
“She wants,” Drake says raising his arm over his eyes.
“I’m fine. Where are you taking him?”
“To the hospital on base.”
Drake moves his arm and tries to sit up, but he cringes and lies back. “You’re going with me, aren’t you?” It’s rare that Drake asks. He almost always tells me what’s going to happen.
“I don’t think there is enough room in there for me.”
“Have Max bring you then.”
I’m still angry and hurt from what I learned today. But, he did get shot trying to protect me. I owe him for that.
“I will.”
They close the doors and drive away with the siren blaring and I sit down on the concrete in the middle of the street. Drake was right. I’m in shock, I’m cold and trembling.
I have never been through anything this intense and emotionally draining in my life. The videos I received don’t hold a candle to how this is affecting me.
I can hear Max talking to someone right next to me but he sounds a hundred miles away. Strong arms scoop me up off the street and I don’t protest, I can’t. My head is buzzing with information. I feel like I’m in a class trying to take notes for something important and the teacher is lecturing too fast. I can’t keep up.
“Tiana, Tiana…”
I look at the nametag of the person carrying me and calling my name. Garcia. Didn’t someone tell me Kimber got engaged to a Marine named Garcia? I have no idea why I remember that random bit of information right now.
“Yeah?” I look into his face when I answer.
“Max and I are taking you to the hospital, I think you should be seen by a doctor, do you understand?” I nod like a zombie staring into his deep brown eyes. Kimber did well if this is her Garcia.
He opens the door to Drake’s SUV and helps me in. My hands are shaking while trying to put on my seatbelt, so he gently takes the buckle from my hands to help me. Max slides into the backseat and I watch Garcia walk around to the driver’s side and get behind the wheel.
It’s so quiet I can hear myself breathing. No chit chat, no radio, just the still calm after the storm as we make our way out of Jewel Falls to the nearest civilian hospital. Where is Jayden? Drake is expecting me. My brother is insane. Drake was shot; he has a wife, no wait, an ex-wife, and a little girl. None of this seems real. It doesn’t make sense.
Chapter 24
Drake
Lucky, the doctor says. I don’t feel especially lucky. My best friend shot me, my girlfriend hasn’t visited since it happened three days ago, and I’m going blind.
I’ll admit, the bullet entering my right side and only causing minimal damage to my intestines without hitting any other major organs is pretty amazing. Other than that, shit sucks right now.
I’ve called Tiana repeatedly and texted her several times a day, but still no response. I know she was devastated to find out I was married and that I have a daughter, but I’d like the chance to explain.
“Major Valentine, how are you feeling today?” Dr. O’Leary, my surgeon asks strolling into my room holding a clipboard in his hands.
“Fine, I’d like to go home.”
“I think we can arrange that. I think it’s safe to say you’re not going to spring a leak somewhere other than your intestines and you seem to be recovering well. How’s your vision?”
The Marine Corps knows about my sight. After a thorough exam on admission, the doc knew something was wrong, I had to admit it. It’s a secret I’ve kept for seventeen years, unburdening myself was a r
elief but the repercussions are going to start setting in soon. People will talk, I won’t be promoted and I’ll have to quit working altogether.
“The same,” I answer.
“Good. Well, if there’s nothing keeping you here, I’ll give your nurse discharge orders and you can be on your way.”
He’s right. Nothing is keeping me here anymore. My anchor is gone. The Marine Corps has been my home and my family for so long I have no idea how I’m going to function in the civilian world.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Major, how are you coping? Do you have a therapist to talk to about your sight?”
“No, I’m fine. I’ve had seventeen years to prepare for this. Things are all lined up.” What a joke. Yeah, my house is blind-man proof and I have a service dog coming, but my real coping mechanism walked out of my life three days ago. The stunning woman with two different colored eyes, who sings like a bird is gone.
“If you need anything, look me up. You’ll know where to find me,” he says.
“I will. Thanks again, doc.”
He smiles the smile I fucking hate. The one I’ve been dreading for years. It’s the smile that says, man this guy was dealt a shitty hand in life, I’m glad it’s not me.
Thirty minutes later a nurse has removed my IV and given me strict instructions to go home to rest, and take it easy. None of which do I plan on doing. I need to find Tiana and explain why I didn’t tell her about Mona and Amari. I want her to know why I left them and I pray she will understand.
Walking out of the hospital is a bitch. I want to have a clear head when I talk to Tiana, so I refused the nurse’s offer for one last dose of pain medication. Max is waiting on the curb outside the front entrance, but I hear my name being called from behind me.
“Major Valentine, sir.”
“Captain Garcia.”
“I didn’t know you were being discharged today.”
“Neither did I, glad to be out of here, though. How are you and your fiance´ settling in?”
“Great, thank you for asking. She’s due any day now, we’re getting excited.”
“That was some move, West Coast to the East Coast, especially when she’s so far along.”
“Yep, military life…” he shrugs.
I do something I never do and reach out to pat him on the shoulder, “You’re a lucky man, Captain Garcia, don’t ever forget that.”
He nods his head, but his eyes express how much he understands. We met in California at Camp Pendleton a few weeks ago. When he told me he was being transferred, we got to know each other a little and come to find out, he’s Max’s grandson. Small world.
I’m sure Max filled him in on what happened with Jayden. Garcia appreciates his life, he’s a happy man and it shows.
“I better not keep you, Grandpa is waiting.” He nods toward the doors where Max is tapping his thumb on the steering wheel.”
“Yeah, don’t want to piss him off. Take care, I’ll probably see you soon.” See you soon gets stuck in my throat but he doesn’t notice.
In the car, Max pulls away from the curb into the parking lot without a word. On the road, he sneaks a glance at me and taps the windshield wiper button when a few drops of rain hit the windshield. Looking out the front window through a gray dot in the center of my vision is unnerving. I prefer the back, but Max says it makes him feel like a chauffeur. Which he kind of is, but he’s also a proud retired Marine who hates the fact that he’s getting older.
“Drake, I need to talk to you about Tiana.”
“Have you heard from her? I’ve been calling…”
“She won’t answer. There have been some serious developments since you were hospitalized. I didn’t want to mention them until you were doing better.”
He sounds ominous. I have that shitty feeling you get when someone says we need to talk.
“What’s going on? Did she go back to New York?” I hate asking but I need to know because if she has I’ll be taking a trip.
“No, she’s still in Jewel Falls but she’s in bad shape.”
“Jayden?”
“More than you can imagine. She’s been holed up in that house for three days and won’t answer the door. The lights go on and off and I’ve checked on her through the windows, she’s okay but she won’t speak to anyone.”
“Did they admit him into a mental hospital? Is she upset about his breakdown?”
“No, he’s in jail under suicide watch. She sent him a message that she never wanted to see him or hear from him again and he threatened to kill himself.”
Not surprising after all that happened, but why is she secluding herself?
“I feel like you’re trying to tell me something bigger, Max. What is it, just spit it out.”
“I think you need to try and talk to her. She won’t open up for anybody, not Donna or her roommate from New York, no one.”
“Her roommate is here?”
“Yes, I contacted her and sent her a ticket. I couldn’t think of anyone else, she doesn’t have any family left now.”
“So, there is more but you don’t want to tell me?”
“Yes, unfortunately, there’s a lot more, but it’s for her to tell, not me.”
“How do you know?”
“The police contacted me when they couldn’t get her to return their calls. Jayden wouldn’t stop demanding to see her. She sent her roommate a text asking her to tell the police she was done with her brother.”
“Take me to her.”
“Yes, sir.”
Everything looks so normal when we pull into Jayden and Tiana’s driveway. Jayden’s lawnmower is sitting on the side of the house where he left it a week ago, his truck is in the driveway and the swing on his porch sways in the breeze.
It smells like rain and earth and flowers. The muggy air hangs heavily around me when I exit the SUV.
“You don’t have to wait. I have a key to both houses, I’ll be fine.”
“Call if you need to go anywhere, I’m five minutes away.”
“Thank you, Max, for everything.” Max was responsible for calling SWAT and making sure Mona and Amari were safe. He has a lot of connections for a man in his seventies and when he calls, people listen. He was one of the first Marines I met when I joined the Corps. I may not have made it if it weren’t for his gruff encouragement.
“You’re welcome. Good luck.” He nods toward the house and I close the door and watch him pull away.
I let myself into the house with the key my best friend gave me years ago. My declining vision paired with the curtains having been drawn in the living room and no light makes it impossible for me to see.
I know there’s a lamp on a table about five steps in but I stop when my foot crunches in what sounds like glass. My side is burning and I’m a little light-headed, I need to sit down. I use my phone's flashlight to light the way to the couch but I can’t move. Broken glass covers the floor, every decorative thing, every photograph or knickknack has been smashed. Small pieces of furniture have been thrown against the wall and cushions and throw pillows have been sliced with a knife and emptied of their stuffing. It looks like the FBI went through the house looking for something.
I use my flashlight to guide me to the stairs picking and weaving through the debris the best I can. When I have hold of the railing, I climb the stairs with caution. I don’t know what’s been going on here, but startling Tiana seems like a bad idea right now.
Upstairs I find the door to her room open and shine the light inside.
“Tiana? Are you in here? It’s Drake, I had a key so I let myself in.”
Nothing. I scan the room and find it in considerably better shape than the downstairs but no Tiana.
With my hand on the wall to guide me, I move down the hall to Jayden’s door. His room is destroyed beyond recognition. I step inside and call Tiana’s name before switching on the overhead light. I’m surprised the light bulb is still in one piece. It’s got to be the only thing in the room th
at is. This isn’t the mess of investigators. This is the mess of someone in a rage.
I crunch my way across the bedroom and lying on the floor on a bed of cut up family photographs, is my Tiana. A pair of scissors is lying on the floor a few inches from her open hand and Jayden’s clothes are shredded everywhere.
I squat down a few feet away and see that her eyes are open but she isn’t moving. My stitches strain and burn, but I ignore the pain and concentrate on this fragile version of the woman I love. “Tiana, honey, it’s Drake.” No response, not even a blink. I rise enough to move closer and kneel next to her legs. She’s only dressed in a tank top and panties and she has blood streaks on her face and arms.
“Are you hurt? Baby, you have blood on your hands. Can I look at them?”
Nothing. I reach out and touch her hand. She’s freezing; she’s been lying her for a long time. Lifting her arm, I do my best to look for injuries with my peripheral vision and find small minor cuts probably from smashing everything in the house. Her other arm is the same and the blood on her face looks like she wiped her hand across her cheek.
I shouldn’t in my condition but I slide one arm under her legs and the other around her shoulders and lift her into my arms. I feel a stitch, maybe two, pop and I wince. I can feel the warmth of my blood seeping from my incision, but I need to get her out of this room.
I carry her to her bedroom and lay her on her bed. She’s limp and lifeless and if her eyes weren’t open I’d be checking for a pulse. I feel around and find a lamp that’s been turned on its side on the table next to the bed. I right it, adjust the shade and turn it on.
I press my hand to the wet spot on my shirt and since she’s practically comatose I step into her bathroom and grab a washcloth to hold pressure on my wound.
When I return, I climb in behind her and pull the covers up over us to warm her up. The air conditioning must be set at forty degrees in here and she’s ice cold.