by April Hunt
Tony chuckled. “And I like the fact that I’m not alone in watching out for you while you look out for everyone else.”
Chapter
Eleven
7 years ago
Walter Reed Hospital
Bethesda, Maryland
“Did you turn in the last of your residency applications? I’m still debating whether or not I want to put surgery or obstetrics as my second choices.” Lt. Samantha Barnes stepped into emergency room doctors’ lounge and dropped heavily onto the couch. “Yoo-hoo. Barnes to Santiago. Do you come in, Santiago?”
“Sorry, what?” Isa blinked, suddenly realizing that her quiet reprieve from the steady flow of patients had ended with her friend’s presence. She stuffed her phone into a pocket, telling herself that a watched screen never made someone call any faster. “No, I haven’t. I still have time, so I’m going to see if I have a sudden epiphany as to which direction to go.”
“You think Colonel Hardass, I mean, Harding, will let you pick anything except emergency medicine?” Sam cocked up a blond eyebrow.
“I think I want to make sure I pick the best fit and I’m not going to let him dictate the rest of my life.” Isa pulled her cell phone out to check the screen again.
Nothing.
“Hey, are you okay?” Sam’s smirk was replaced with a concerned frown. “You’ve seemed a little distracted the last week. What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
Her friend obviously didn’t believe her. “Righhht.”
“It’s Olly. We had a fight the last time we spoke, and it’s just been on my mind.”
“Let me guess, he wants Navy blue linens on the wedding table and you want Army green?” Sam joked.
The fact that Isa and her fiancé served different military branches was often the source of good-natured ribbing among their medical class. The fact that he was a SEAL made it even worse. But she wished the argument had been tablecloths and color schemes. Instead, he’d accused her of not being invested in their relationship to the depth that she should be, which was completely ridiculous.
Except that it wasn’t.
Not entirely.
They’d been high school sweethearts, and best friends before that. Everyone in their hometown joked that where one popped up, the other wasn’t more than a step behind. Oliver Park was her path to an epic love story like that of her grandparents…or she’d always thought. After their engagement, things had suddenly changed.
Not much at first. Hugs felt a little awkward. Conversations took a bit more effort. Silences that had once been comfortable moments of reflection had turned to tension-filled concern. At first she blamed it on his deployments, his being sent overseas while she stayed behind finishing up her medical degree at the Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences. She’d blamed it on the distance. The stress of school.
She’d blamed it on everything except where the fault should really be placed.
Herself.
And she hadn’t heard from him in a week. Not a video chat, call, or email. Sam read her worry.
“So it’s been a while since you’ve heard from Mr. Gorgeous,” Sam said carefully. “But you’ve gone a while without hearing from him before. How often do they send his team out into the field?”
“No, you’re right. Sometimes I don’t hear from him in months. This time just feels different.”
Sam squeezed her hand. “That’s the stress of looming applications getting to you. Like you said, relax and wait for your epiphany. I’m sure it’ll happen before you know it.”
A sharp wail blared from the alert system, putting them both on their feet. In the hall, medical staff scattered, many dropping whatever they’d been doing. Isa and Sam jumped into the hall and looked around for their instructor. Isa found him barking orders to one of the few civilian nurses in the emergency room.
“Colonel Harding, sir?”
“Barnes, meet Tyson over at trauma door three. Santiago, with me. We were just notified that there’s been a shooting at the festival a few blocks away. We have at least a dozen victims heading our way. When I say jump, jump. Don’t ask questions. Just do it.”
“Yes, sir.” Samantha gave Isa nod of support before taking off toward the trauma bay.
Isa stayed hot on Harding’s heels, her heart pumping loudly in her ears as they donned personal protective gear in preparation for receiving the first patient, but when the first ambulance pulled up, a grim-faced medic jumped out, shaking her head.
“We lost him en route. He’s been down fifteen,” the medic said.
Harding nodded, seemingly unfazed. Having worked in frontline field medicine, there probably wasn’t a whole lot that the doctor hadn’t seen. “Unload him and get the ambo out of here. We need to make room for the next patient.”
The EMT quickly hustled to do just that, and as the second the ambulance pulled away, another took its place. The back doors burst open.
“Santiago,” Harding barked. They jumped into action, helping the EMT unload the young woman, an Air Force lieutenant, judging by the emblem on her uniform.
“I counted four shots, only two with exit points,” the EMT quickly rattled off. “Blood pressure eighty over forty-three and quickly dropping. Heart rate one forty-two and rising.”
“She’s losing blood and fast.” Harding directed them into the first hybrid trauma bay, where a nurse immediately began cutting away the patient’s uniform. “We need O-negative hung, and let’s get some pressers on board. Santiago, grab the surg kit. We need to clamp off whatever arteries have been hit, and we need to do it now.”
“We’re not taking her to the OR?” Isa’s hands reflexively did as asked.
“She’ll die in the elevator if we do. Hell, I’m surprised she’s not already gone. Locate and clamp first, then we’ll transfer.”
“Her son’s the reason she’s still with us,” the EMT said, hanging back and letting the X-ray tech into the room.
“Son?” Isa asked.
The paramedic nodded. “He’s in another ambo with a little brother.”
“Is he okay?”
“Mostly scratches, and maybe a dislocated shoulder from getting jostled in the panicked crowd. Still, even with all hell breaking lose, the kid had the presence of mind to rip off his and his brother’s jackets and stanch the worst of the wounds. Ten years old.”
Isa wanted to be sick, but there wasn’t time.
“Scan’s done.” The X-ray tech stepped back, the image immediately blinking to life on the screen.
“Yep,” Harding nodded, already ripping open a surgical kit and handing it to her before opening one for himself. “Four wounds. Shoulder, chest, abdomen, and leg. Two bullets still inside and a whole lot of blood. We’re tag-teaming this one, Santiago. Where do you think the bleeders are?”
“Abdomen and leg,” Isa said, quickly scanning the woman’s body. “The abdomen’s probably the lower aorta and the leg…femoral artery.”
“Correct. You get the leg. Locate the issue. Clamp it. All done until we get her upstairs. Got it?” The attending looked at her from the other side of their patient.
“Got it.” And she did.
Her hands didn’t shake once as she laid her scalpel to the lieutenant’s upper thigh. Harding worked on piecing together the aorta and walked her step-by-step through her own task. For a minute, the nurse eyeing the vitals called out an improving blood pressure, and Isa felt hopeful…right until Harding cursed.
“Aorta’s shredded.” He cursed again seconds before the monitor alarms blared again. “How’s that leg coming, Santiago?”
“Done, sir. Clamped and ready.”
“Good, now get your hands in here.”
Isa and Harding worked to repair the damage. Blood poured out from the aorta, making their task to clamp off the holes that much harder. By the time it slowed, the sound of the screaming monitors ice-picked their way through Isa’s head.
She’d barely registered Harding’s words and the reason f
or the slowing blood flow until a nearby nurse gently rested her hand on her shoulder. The blood flow stopped because the patient didn’t have any more flowing through her veins.
“Time of death,” Harding growled, “eight-oh-two.”
Isa blinked through the shock, struggling to make sense of everything that just happened.
“Colonel Harding, sir.” A civilian nurse stuck her head into the room and grimaced seeing the tech flip off the now silent monitors. “Her sons are here in room three. The father’s on his way, but he’s not here yet.”
“I’ll—”
“I’ll go sit with them,” Isa heard herself volunteer before turning toward her CO. “If you don’t mind, sir, I’ll clean up and go sit with the kids until their father gets here.”
He paused, seeming to think about it before nodding. “Have someone come and get me when he does. We’ll tell them together.”
“Yes, sir.”
An hour later, with a four-year-old on her lap and a brave ten-year-old tucked into her side, Isa knew that her epiphany had come to her at the expense of a young Air Force lieutenant. No way could she handle that kind of loss again. Her heart broke in half as she watched the father pull his children into his arms, all three of them sobbing.
As she slowly trudged back to the lounge, more than ready to finally submit the paperwork that would hopefully send her into research medicine instead of bedside, one of the nurses came up to her.
“Isabel. You left your phone. Someone’s been trying to get hold of you.” Nicki handed Isa her own phone, which she’d left sitting on the lounge table.
“Thank you.” Isa hurried into the empty room just as it alerted with an incoming Facetime. Tears pouring down her face, Isa swiped to open the call and apologize to Olly for everything she’d done and the way that she’d acted. “Olly, I’m—”
“Isa.”
Pausing, she looked at the face that was definitely not Olly’s.
Isaac Peters, his unit’s team leader and Olly’s best friend, stared back at her, his face dirtied and bruised…and not the least bit happy. “Isabel, I…I don’t know how to say this, but…”
“No…” Isabel shook her head, both unwilling and unable to hear the words. Her knees buckled, dropping her onto the couch. “No.”
“Isa, I’m sorry. He’s gone. Olly’s…gone.”
* * *
Soul-wrenching sobs dragged Isa from her sleep.
She strained to hear where the noise had come from and flipped over, shoving her hair away from her face when her fingers came back wet. It had been her, and as brief snippets of her dream slipped back into her consciousness, she realized it hadn’t been a dream, or a nightmare.
It had been a memory—the worst day of her life, and the last day of Oliver’s.
It wasn’t that long ago that she’d mentally replay that day every time she sat still for longer than a few minutes. Then, it visited only when she slept. The last time had been on the anniversary of Olly’s death. The fact that it returned on the eve she dove back into bedside medicine made sense.
Unfortunately.
Isa sat up and blew out a heavy breath when someone knocked on the door.
“Doc? You good in there?” Roman asked from the other side.
“Yeah. No.” Crap. How loud had she been? Padding barefoot across the room, she patted her cheeks dry, and then opened the door to a fully dressed Roman. “You weren’t sleeping?”
“I told King to get some shut-eye while I took the late watch.” He studied her with his intense, critical gaze. “Sounded like you were having a nightmare.”
“I wish it was just a nightmare,” Isa muttered under her breath.
She left the door open in an invitation to come inside. Roman did, although reluctantly, closing the door behind him. This was the first time in days they’d been alone without the threat of someone eavesdropping on the conversation, and as much as Isa knew it wasn’t a good idea, she couldn’t tell him to leave.
She didn’t want him to leave. The only problem was that she didn’t know what she did want.
Being near Roman somehow calmed her emotions and hurtled them in all directions at the same time.
“If you want to talk, I’m here.” Roman leaned against the small dresser tucked against the far wall, directly across from where she sat on the bed. “If you want me gone, I’ll go.”
She couldn’t bring herself to say anything, and after a while, he shifted to leave.
“No, stay. I…” Isa dropped her head onto her hands with a heavy sigh. “I don’t know anything anymore. Have you ever got caught in that sticky in-between where you want two things, on far ends of the spectrum, and you don’t know which way to lean?”
“All the damn time.”
She believed it. As much as opening a part of herself to Roman would do the exact opposite of keeping him at arm’s length, she also longed for the understanding that she knew he’d give her. Or maybe he’d give her a swift kick in the ass. She’d benefit from either, and whichever reaction she got from him, she’d know it was honest.
Roman didn’t talk. He didn’t push. He simply stood there and waited…and Isa appreciated it.
“You asked once before back at headquarters why I second-guess myself, and the answer is because I’d once had every intention of being a bedside doctor. I’d been days away from declaring my residency when I lost a patient.” Isa took a deep breath and tugged her eyes away from her hands to brave a look at Roman “A young mom. An Air Force lieutenant. She wasn’t the first person I’d lost in the course of my career, but everything about it had felt different. She literally died with her blood on my hands.”
“But you’re not the one who put her there.”
She played with the edge of the blanket to distract her shaking fingers. “No. But I’m the one who couldn’t bring her back to her family. And after I’d finished telling two little boys and a devastated husband that she wasn’t coming home, I got the news that neither was my fiancé. So yeah. I’m more than a little nervous about tomorrow. They say history has a way of repeating itself for a reason.”
The rustle of clothing had her looking up just as Roman crouched in front of her. His hand slid over hers, gently stilling her fidgeting fingers. “I’m not telling you this will be a cakewalk. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that you wouldn’t call me out on that lie if I tried. But you’re not on this walk alone. You have everyone here in Alaska. You have everyone back home. You have your family. Your friends. Your smarts and your determination…and me.”
Isa tried not reading into his words. It didn’t take a genius to tell she was a hairbreadth away from dropping some serious tears, and Roman being Roman, he was probably allergic to the sight. He’d do or say anything to ensure they didn’t make an appearance.
Except when she looked into his eyes, she had a difficult time not falling into their depths. A mixture of sincerity and concern stared back at her, and it took down nearly all her defenses.
Her hand beneath his flexed, fingers reflexively entwining with his. “Will you stay here tonight? I’m not asking for anything. I just…want to be near someone.”
Near him.
She knew that if it had been Jaz or Ryder in front of her right now, she wouldn’t be making the same request…but she couldn’t bring herself to think about that right then.
Roman didn’t say yes or no. He stood, shrugging out of his weapons holster, and as Isa slid beneath the covers and finished settling into her pillow, Roman tucked the blanket around her body and climbed in next to her.
Isa couldn’t help but chuckle. “You need a physical barrier to lie in bed with me?”
He grunted against the top of her head as he pulled her close. “Doc, I need a six foot-thick cement fucking wall—and a miracle—to lie in a bed with you and keep it G-rated.”
But he did. In minutes, his rhythmic breathing brushed against her hair. He’d fallen asleep, but Isa’s mind, still running through tomorrow’s events, had her
burrowing her cheek against his chest.
His scent of spice and musk soothed her rampant thoughts. Tomorrow, there wouldn’t be time to think about much less take advantage of moments like these so she soaked in her fill now and eventually fell asleep to the steady, strong pound of Roman’s heartbeat beneath her ear.
* * *
Roman needed a fucking vat of coffee despite having slept like a damn rock—once again with his arms wrapped around Isabel. He didn’t even have intense, marathon sex to blame for it. All their clothes had remained on, the only skin-on-skin contact having been his hand on the curve of her hip thanks to her kicking the covers aside at some point in the night…and he still wished he was in that same position.
He’d reluctantly slipped away at the crack of dawn, walking the town’s perimeter with Ryder to suss out the most vulnerable areas, and as expected, there were a lot of them. Mounting cameras along the Beaver Ridge border would only get them so far.
In no mood for any more obstacles before having another gallon of coffee, Roman nearly growled as he approached the cabin. King stood on the front porch, arms folded as he glared into the woods much like he had the previous day.
“I don’t fucking like this,” King said in lieu of a greeting. “As small as this place is, it’s more exposed than we anticipated. This is even more of a gamble than I usually like.”
“Do you have anything optimistic to say?”
“Dishing out optimism is your MO, my friend. Wouldn’t want to encroach on your territory,” King said sarcastically, and turned to him expectantly. “But seriously. You storing any brilliant ideas in that head of yours you haven’t told me about?”
“Other than making sure Isabel’s safe and no one gets shot in the process? No. Not really.” Bracing his hands on the railing, Roman shifted his gaze from the woods to the back of the clinic doors a few hundred feet away. “There’s nothing we can do to change the status quo right now. Isabel will find out if we’re actually dealing with FC-5—and our asshole friends—and then we’ll go from there. Redistribute and regroup.”
