In the Midnight Hour

by Deborah Cooke

  That would explain why she hadn’t come to the class.

  “My ideas have got ideas,” Cassie complained to Kyle, but Damon could hear how happy she was. “I was going to take tonight off, but now I’ll be doodling marketing plans.”

  “You love it,” Kyle replied.

  “I do. I’ll try to pull together a cohesive plan tonight.”

  “Because you rock,” Kyle said and Damon glanced back to see Kyle giving Cassie a hug. “Here. Check out Chynna’s online portfolio tonight, too. It might give you some ideas.”

  Damon turned up his collar and stepped out into the snowy street, intent upon getting to the hospital soon.

  * * *

  His mom was asleep.

  Damon stood and watched her for a long moment, then frowned when he noticed that the massage oil was on the table beside her bed. He was sure he’d left it in the drawer. He stepped closer and sniffed, knowing he didn’t imagine its scent.

  One of the nurses swept in to check his mom’s vitals and spared him a smile. It was the one he’d talked to at the nurses’ station on Friday night.

  “She was a little agitated earlier,” the nurse whispered. “But Haley was here and offered to give her a massage. I said if your mom agreed, it was okay. I hope that was all right?” She spared him a worried glance.

  “Did it help?”

  “Her pulse slowed right down, just as it does when you give her a massage.” She smiled. “Maybe not quite as much.”

  Damon smiled back. “Then it’s fine. Haley and I were talking about the therapeutic benefits of massage on Friday and she offered to give my mom massages when I wasn’t here.”

  “You should have told us. We can put it on her chart.”

  Damon shrugged. “I wasn’t sure she was serious.”

  The nurse shook her head. “Haley is always serious. I wish everyone was half as reliable.” She noted the vitals then turned to leave. “If you could stop at the station and sign the permission, that would be great. Everyone will know then.”

  “Sure, I can do it now.” He eyed his mom. “It looks like she’s going to sleep for a while.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  Damon matched his step to that of the nurse.

  “You know, your mom responds really well to massage. It might be a better pain management technique for her than the morphine. Maybe you should talk to her doctor about that.”

  “I’d like to. When do you expect him?”

  “He usually does rounds on weekday mornings.” The nurse pulled up his mom’s chart. “Even with the holiday, I bet he’ll be here sometime tomorrow although it probably won’t be in the morning. Can he call you on your cell? It’s best if you talk to him directly.”

  “Sure.” They had his number on file and Damon initialed where she requested.

  She hesitated.

  “Anything I should know?”

  Her smile was quick. “Just a word to the wise. Drugs are easy. They’re administered regularly and keep things on an even keel. Some doctors don’t like to take a chance with patient comfort by trying something less predictable.”

  “But her response to the massage is predictable.”

  “But the timing of when she gets one isn’t, except for Friday night. Be prepared for him to ask for a more regular schedule in order to manage her pain.”

  “Thanks. That’s good advice.”

  It also meant that Damon had a reason to go looking for Haley.

  He asked the nurse for directions to the cardiac ward and found it easily. He could feel the difference as soon as he stepped off the elevator. The mood was tense, even though it was fairly quiet. The oncology ward wasn’t a happy place, but it was more tranquil. He could hear heart monitors from the rooms in this ward and someone moaned in one of the rooms to the right. The only nurse at the station was on the phone and simultaneously typing on a computer. Two nurses passed him, moving quickly and quietly, their expressions grim. Another went by with a crash cart, wheeling it down the hall at a fast trot, and a doctor ducked into a room just ahead of it.

  Clearly, there was a crisis with a patient.

  Damon stood back and out of the way. He thought he caught a glimpse of Haley going into that same room, but then a second alert sounded. The nurse on the desk muttered something under her breath and paged a doctor. He heard a man say “clear” from the direction of the first room, even as a second cart was wheeled into another room with another team right behind it.

  He knew that Haley wouldn’t have any time to talk to him soon. He certainly wasn’t going to interfere with her doing her best at her job.

  Damon had another plan. He went back to his mom’s room, checked on her, kissed her goodnight, then went down to the gift shop.

  * * *

  Three code blues in one shift. It defied the odds. Some people were not welcoming 2018 with joy. Haley closed her locker, more exhausted than she’d been in a long time, and shouldered her purse.

  “Happy New Year, Haley!” Daphne said and handed her a gift bag.

  Haley was surprised. “We don’t exchange gifts.”

  “No, but someone left it for you at the desk.” Daphne smiled. “See you tomorrow.”

  The gift bag was stuffed full of tissue so Haley couldn’t see what was in it. It was a bit heavy, but she didn’t want to take the time to open it. Haley assumed it was a little thank-you from one of the nurses whose shift she’d taken over the holidays.

  She waved to the nurses on the next shift and got on the elevator, leaning back against the back wall and closing her eyes as it descended.

  Had she caught a glimpse of Damon earlier?

  She thought she had, right when the second code blue had sounded, but when the emergency was over, there’d been no sign of him. She’d thought he might have come to say something about her giving his mom a massage, but maybe he didn’t know.

  Maybe he hadn’t even visited the hospital. He could have been busy at F5. Natasha hadn’t expected him, after all.

  Even if he had come to the hospital, Natasha might not have told him.

  Maybe she’d been asleep when he arrived.

  Haley sighed, acknowledging to herself that she’d been looking forward to seeing him again. The elevator doors opened and she strode across the lobby.

  Her interest in Damon might not be mutual. Once might have been enough for him. She might just have been next.

  To be fair, she’d thought he was next. Maybe if she was in the habit of seducing gorgeous men, she’d be more used to wanting more.

  Joe’s cab was the first in line and Haley slid into the back seat with some relief. It was good to see a friendly face. It was starting to snow, big white flakes tumbling out of the sky. Maybe she’d walk to work the next day.

  They wished each other a happy new year.

  “Rough one?” Joe asked as the cab pulled away from the curb. “You look tired.”

  “Three code blues in a row. It was certainly busy.”

  “How many of them made it?”

  “Only one.” Haley knotted her hands together and looked out the window at the dark park, suspecting that even the man who had survived the night wouldn’t live long. She found the cardiac ward harder than oncology, which was pretty much the opposite of the other nurses she knew. It was maybe because death came suddenly and often violently. She preferred when the grim reaper stalked his victims for a while.

  Maybe because it was easier to believe he might be caught and stopped before he finished his grisly business. Maybe it was because people had time to make their peace with the inevitable and say goodbye. When death came out of the blue—as with a heart attack—it was often over before much intervention could be done.

  “I gave a ride to your man tonight,” Joe said.

  Haley blinked. Her man? Joe’s eyes were twinkling when she met his gaze in the mirror.

  He meant Damon.

  Her gut clenched with the conviction that one of the other nurses must have taken him home. Robyn wo
uld have done it, in a heartbeat.

  “He’s not my man, Joe,” she said.

  It was true. Damon had never promised her anything.

  Well, he’d promised not to seduce her, but she’d changed that.

  He’d said he would please her and he’d done that.

  So, why did she feel like forgetting her own rule? She was committed to her career. There was no room in her life for love and marriage, and she didn’t want there to be.

  She just wanted another night with Damon.

  “Does he work at the hospital?” Joe asked.

  “No. His mom’s in the oncology ward.” She watched, her curiosity whetted, but Joe gave no sign that Damon had been with anyone else. “He’s a nice guy,” she ventured.

  “I thought so, too. Polite. Good tip.” Joe nodded. “The losers never tip, never think of anyone but themselves.”

  The cab was quiet as Joe turned down Haley’s street.

  He cleared his throat. “If he’s not your man, then you wouldn’t care that he was alone.”

  Haley turned from the window to meet Joe’s bright gaze again.

  “I thought so,” the older man said with satisfaction. “I know a thing or two about the world.”

  Haley smiled. “Do you?”

  Joe grinned as he stopped at her building. “And you wouldn’t want to know where he lives, either, would you?”

  Haley leaned forward to pay the fare. “You’re a tease.”

  “I’ve seen a lot of life, Haley.” Joe shook a finger at her. “Two lonely people sometimes need a little help to get things right.”

  Haley chose not to argue about being lonely. “So, you’re a guardian angel now?”

  “Can’t hurt. Leave the world a better place than how you found it.”

  “That sounds like a Boy Scout motto.”

  Joe chuckled. “Maybe.” He took a pad of Post-It notes from the console, wrote an address, and peeled off the top sheet to give it to her. “I’m going to guess that’s his mom’s house, and that he’s living there alone seeing as she’s in the hospital.”

  “You don’t know.” Haley eyed the address, her heart leaping with an excitement that was completely undeserved. She wasn’t going to become Damon’s stalker.

  “No. But I’m a good guesser.” Joe shrugged. “It fills the time.”

  “Well, I’ll let you know if you’re right.”

  “Better yet, invite me to the wedding.”

  “Joe!”

  The older man laughed. “I knew that would get a rise out of you.”

  “Thank you, Joe,” Haley said as she got out of the cab. “I think.”

  “But you let me know if I’m right,” he called after her. “You offered and I like to keep score.”

  * * *

  The three of them were progressing steadily, shoulder to shoulder. Perez was on the right. Foster in the middle. Buchanan on the left. It was the way they’d done it a thousand times, but it was never routine.

  Not a single thing was routine in Afghanistan.

  They rounded a corner and froze as one at the sight of a little boy playing in the dusty street. Dressed in rags, dirty, too thin. Perez never got used to seeing these kids, growing up in a war zone and thinking that was normal. It was normal for them, and that was the saddest part of all.

  The kid looked up, his gaze dancing over the pair of them, then smiled knowingly. He dropped the toy, turned and ran.

  He was going to tell someone they were close.

  Foster lifted his weapon to aim.

  Perez growled a reminder. “R.O.E.”

  Rules of engagement.

  The boy was a civilian. He was unarmed. He couldn’t be injured, even if he was going to bring the wrath of hell upon them. The village ahead was suddenly quiet, deserted, ominous. But they had a mission to infiltrate a certain house and capture a known threat. They exchanged a nod and continued.

  He heard Buchanan exhale in frustration, but nothing more was said. Perez was the one who followed the rules to the letter. It was the only way to be, as far as he was concerned, and he wasn’t going to argue about it again.

  They continued, three in a line, sweeping the street with their gazes. They took four more steps before the grenade landed in the road and rolled toward them. There were houses on either side, undoubtedly filled with civilians.

  There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

  Damon awakened with a scream caught in his throat and his mind filled with the memory of his comrade’s last cry. He was sweating, his heart galloping, the smell of those Afghan streets so vivid that he could have been there again.

  But he was home.

  And he was still powerless against his foe.

  He rolled out of bed, dropped and did a hundred push-ups, fast and hard.

  Then he did a hundred more.

  He was sitting, back against the wall, muscles trembling, heart still racing, when his phone rang.

  * * *

  Haley shouldn’t look.

  How could she not look?

  It was three in the morning and Haley was surfing. She checked her email, answered a message from her mom, peeked at her social media, left a comment on a cat picture posted by a college friend. She was stalling and she knew it.

  She wasn’t tired.

  No. She was exhausted but she knew she wouldn’t sleep.

  She had to know.

  She opened the browser and went to Google Maps, then typed in the address Joe had given her. The red pin marking the location wasn’t that far away. She knew the street, of course, but not the addresses. She switched from the map to the street view.

  It was a perfectly nice little house, not unlike a lot of other houses in the area, and had been photographed on a summer day. It looked about fifty years old, maybe sixty, and was well maintained. A dark blue front door. An enclosed porch and a peaked roof over the second story. A single parking spot in front and a neat little garden along the porch with bright flowers.

  Welcoming. Like a home should be.

  She switched back to the map and calculated the distance. She could walk there in half an hour or so.

  She bookmarked it, then took a deep breath. It wasn’t enough.

  She Googled Damon Perez, assuming that he had the same surname as his mom. There were dozens of men with the same name, so she searched on Flatiron Five. She found the names of the partners on the website and discovered that she’d been right about his name. There were a few pictures of the founding team but Damon was always at the back or just ducking out of the frame.

  It seemed he didn’t like having his picture taken. He looked serious when she could see his face, as if he was participating on sufferance.

  His back was always perfectly straight. Three of his partners were guys and they were all fit, but Haley could see the difference in their stance. Only Damon had served. There was a female partner, too, and she was laughing or smiling in every picture. Very pretty. Also in excellent shape.

  Haley searched some more but she didn’t find much more about Damon. She scrolled through all the Facebook profiles for that name and was pretty sure he didn’t have one. None of the pictures were of him, and while he could have used an image or a logo, she didn’t think any of them looked right. The F5 Facebook page had the billboard of him that she’d seen before as well as one of the blond partner. Get Wet at F5 instead of Get Hard at F5.

  Haley considered paying for a check as to whether he had a police record and decided she was getting carried away. She needed some sleep. She shut down her laptop and started to pull out the bed, then she remembered the gift bag.

  It had no tag, but the bag said Happy New Year. She tugged out the tissue paper and found three bottles of lotion in the bottom.

  And a card with the F5 logo.

  Haley’s heart was in her mouth as she turned it over to find that familiar handwriting.

  I wanted to say thanks, but you were busy.

  Give me a call.

  —Damonr />
  Below that was a telephone number.

  It was the proverbial offer she couldn’t refuse.

  * * *

  “Hello?” Damon heard the tension in his own voice and regretted it as soon as the caller replied.

  “Hi. I’m sorry. I never think about the time before I call anyone.” Haley sounded contrite. “Did I wake you up?”

  Damon exhaled. “No. I thought you might call before the morning.”

  “Did you?”

  He sat up straighter at the uncertainty in her voice. “And I’m glad you did.”

  “Are you?”

  He heard the smile in her voice and found himself smiling. “Yes, I am.”

  “Well, thank you for the massage lotions.”

  “That’s pretty much the only equipment you need.”

  “It was thoughtful. Thank you.”

  “Thanks for stopping in to see my mom. They said you really helped.”

  “I hope so. She did go to sleep.”

  There was a long silence then, and Damon didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want Haley to hang up, though, because the sound of her voice was the most reassuring thing he could imagine.

  No, there was one more thing that would be more reassuring.

  “Well, I’d better go and get some sleep,” she said. “Thanks again and happy new year.”

  Damon cleared his throat. “Actually, there’s something else.”

  “Oh?”

  “I wanted to thank you in another way, a better way.”

  “Better than a present?” she asked, laughter in her voice.

  He dropped his voice to a growl. “Better than a present. I want to make you scream again.”

  “Oh!”

  Damon smiled. “You’re blushing.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I can hear you blushing.”

  “You can’t!”

  “I can. Are you?”

  “Well, yes, but you can’t hear that.” She sounded flustered, which just proved that her composure could be shaken. Damon liked that, a lot.

  He liked even better that he could reliably do it.

  “I’ve never been able to hear it before, but you seem to be able to blush in a special way.”