by Rachel Hanna
Protector
Rachel Hanna
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Copyright
Chapter 1
“Yo, Ruiz! Phone!” Knox shouted from the office, but the crashing waves slamming into the shore below the beach house drowned out his words. Last night’s storm had left a crisp bite to the wind and almost record setting waves, and Angel had far better things on his mind than work.
“Dude, did you hear me? You got a phone call,” Knox said, sticking his shaven head out the door. Angel looked up from the lounge chair on the balcony, blinking into the sunlight. He put down the knife he’d been sharpening and reached for the handset.
“Sorry, musta been daydreaming!” Angel took the phone and walked around the wraparound balcony to the other side of the beach house that served as the SEArch & Rescue office. The sound of the surf still roared in the background, but it wasn’t as loud on the street side of the house. “This is Ruiz, go.”
“Angel?” a small voice asked. “Soy yo Manuela.”
“Que tal? Ha pasado mucho tiempo desde que llamaste!” he said, slipping into Spanish at the sound of his little sister’s voice.
“Something’s happened, it’s really serious,” she said, a tremble in her voice. “It’s Mama. She was in a car accident and—”
Angel only vaguely heard the rest. Something about a drunk driver running a red light, hitting the passenger side door, his mother in a coma… Manuela’s words swirled around in his head as he fought to make sense of them. He clung to the last thing she’d said: coma. That meant she was alive, for now at least.
“I’m coming. I can be there by dinner time,” he said urgently, his training and his own instincts taking over and forcing his fear out of the way. “Keep your phone handy and call my cell if anything changes.”
“Your cell? You said not to call that one,” she reminded him.
“Yeah, that’s only when we’re in the field. That’s not a problem anymore.” He bit back the familiar feeling of frustration whenever he was forced to remember their status: reserve. SEAL Team 11 had gone from active duty and waiting at the ready, to practically being retired.
Reserve, he reminded himself. They weren’t out of commission, they were just waiting in limbo for some bureaucrat to decide they were still useful. After all the missions they’d completed, the lives they’d saved, the international incidents they’d helped the government avoid…
Focus, Ruiz. It’s about your mom, not you, he thought bitterly. “Anyway, just call that number I gave you if anything changes. Keep me posted and I’ll see you in a little while.”
He hung up and stormed into the office. Knox was back at his desk manning his shift at the phones, and beyond the main office he could see Mike and Tanner spotting each other in the weight room. Jake was nowhere in sight, so that probably meant he was out for a run. It was just as well, he didn’t feel like giving any of his teammates a rundown of the situation.
“Knox, I gotta take off for a few days,” he began, trying to keep his voice steady. “That was my sister, my mom’s in the hospital.”
“Oh shit, man, is everything okay?” he asked a little too loudly. The metallic clang of a weight stack dropping in the other room told Angel that Mike and Tanner had heard, too.
“I don’t know, she was in a wreck, some drunk asshole hit her, but I gotta head home. I’m signing out one of the Humvees, and I’ll let you guys know how long I’ll be gone once I get there and assess the situation. This doesn’t change anything, got it? If you get a call, I’ll be there. I mean it, don’t go being a hero just ‘cause you think I’m tied up in family stuff or anything.”
“No, I get it. Same as always, I know you’re here for us,” he said, gesturing around the office. “But don’t bother with the Hummer, get one of the guys to drop you. The chopper’s due for a run since nothing’s been happening around here lately.”
“Dude, that’d be awesome. But what if you need it for a run?” Angel couldn’t stand the thought of inconveniencing their team--and their company--more than he already was.
“We can call on the city’s backup chopper if something goes down. We have contracts with them, and they certainly owe us more than a few favors on top of it. Besides, there’s no run more important than something like this. Take the ride.”
Angel let out the breath that it felt like he’d been holding since first hearing his sister’s anguished voice. “Thanks, man. Okay, I’m ready to go.”
“Don’t you need to pack? You can’t know yet how long you’ll...”
“No, I’ll just take my bail out bag from the gear room. I’ve still got some clothes stashed at my mom’s house, and I can pick up a toothbrush after I get there.”
“Sounds good,” Knox said grimly, his week-long shift as team leader putting him in charge. It was the only way five SEALs could maintain a semi-civilian, professional search and rescue business. They still deferred to one another in rank and experience, just as they’d done when they were active duty, but when one guy was on shift, he was the boss. “Mike! I know you heard all that, get in here!”
Mike shuffled to the doorway, looking slightly sheepish at having overheard Angel’s predicament. “Sorry about your mom, buddy. I can be ready in ten.”
Angel nodded curtly, his mind already working on the situation at hand. He ran through his mental checklist to be sure all the bases were covered, just as he’d done a hundred times before a mission. This one was no different. In some ways, he had to think of it just like any other S&R or SEAL mission. He couldn’t let himself think of what might be happening in a hospital room in Abilene at that moment.
True to his word, Mike was ready in ten minutes. He flipped switches on the helicopter’s panels and went through his pre-flight while Angel sat numbly in the seat beside him, trying not to let his imagination wander. There was no sense in getting worked up about it until he knew just how bad things were.
But of all three of his sisters, Manuela had always been the steady one, the quiet one, the one with the most level head. While his other sisters used to worry their mother to death over boys and clubs and the occasional party they weren’t supposed to go to, Manuela was always the one who could be counted on to stay home with a good book instead of staying out too late.
If she was frightened, it had to be bad.
Angel felt a familiar whoosh in the pit of his stomach as the chopper lifted off. The helipad, then the office, then the beach slowly shrank beneath him as Mike veered out over the ocean to avoid the clogged traffic from the small helicopters that buzzed tourists around from the beach. He banked the bird to get back on pattern, then radioed back to the S&R office to reconfirm their flight plan.
“I know the answer already but I’d feel like an ass if I didn’t ask you… wanna talk about it?” Mike’s tinny voice asked through the headset a little while later.
“Nope,” Angel replied, leaning his head back against the seat but not closing his eyes.
“Thought not. Just had to offer.”
“I appreciate that.”
That was the bulk of their conversation, other than to call out coordinates once in a while or alert one another to anything unusual. Angel was grateful for the ride but even more grateful that Mike was the one flying. He was personable and level-headed and totally trustworthy, just like everyone else on his team, but he knew when to shut up. Ja
ke or Tanner, on the other hand, would have had to fill the hours with friendly chit chat or stories of some hot girl they’d nailed long ago, trying to take Angel’s mind off his mom with stupid jokes. Mike was able to shut up and fly the damn chopper in order to get him where he had to be.
Chapter 2
Angel caught a cab at the small regional airport where Mike had dropped him off, and it took all his strength not to punch the driver in the back of the head until he was unconscious. He had nothing against the sweet old man, but he was pretty sure he could have run faster than they were going. At one point, he considered throwing some cash on the front seat and jumping out at the next intersection, but he knew that was just the worry causing him to be impulsive. He was better than that. He’d had years of training to make him better than that.
“I’m looking for Gabriella Ruiz’s room, please,” he stammered breathlessly when he finally got to the reception desk. It took forever for the volunteer to locate it in the computer, long enough for Angel to wonder if he was even in the right hospital.
“Yes, she’s in ICU, room twelve, if you’ll take these elevators to the—sir! You need to wait, I didn’t finish telling you…”
The woman’s voice trailed off when Angel turned the corner in a full sprint. He didn’t need directions, he knew this place too well. It was the hospital where his father had spent the last months of his life before giving in to the cancer that ate away at him. He could have found any room in that damn hospital blindfolded, its floor plan burned into his memory from daily trips to see his father as he wasted away to nothing.
“Mama!” he called as he pushed open the door to her room. His sister jumped up and hurried to him, urging him to whisper as she fell into his arms. “How is she?”
“There's no change yet, the doctor is supposed to be in to see her later tonight. They brought her back from surgery only an hour ago.”
“Surgery? Why?” he demanded, then struggled to hold his emotions in check while Manuela listed all of their mother’s injuries, detailing not one but two procedures.
“I'll stay here if you need to go get something to eat,” he said when she’d finished, pulling his sister into another hug before adding with a sniff, “or grab a shower. How long have you been here?”
“I was at work when I got the call, but she was already in surgery by the time I got here. No one would tell me how bad it was, and I hated to call you if she turned out to be fine. I would have called you first thing, but you're so busy, and your work is so important, and you…” Her voice trailed off into a quiet sob, now that she could afford to let herself cry.
“Shhhh, it's okay, I'm here now. You should go home and get some sleep. Can you call someone to drive you?”
Manuela nodded and wiped her eyes as she reached for her phone to text a friend. Angel pulled up the chair she’d been perched in, then guided her to sit. When her phone buzzed half an hour later with a message that her friend was waiting out front, he kissed her cheek and promised her he would call if there was any change.
After Manuela left, Angel fell into the chair and stared hard at his mother’s face. Both eyes were black from the airbag, and there were cuts everywhere he could see exposed skin. Her neck was still in a brace and there was a cast on one of her arms, long metal screws sticking out through the plaster. All around the fairly large room, monitors beeped or tracked some invisible status, while another machine whooshed oxygen in her lungs through a painful-looking tube. Angel could barely reach her fingertips through the miles of wire and layers of gauze, but he found them and pressed them gently between his strong hands.
“I’m here, Mama. Your Angel’s here.”
A knock on the door was followed immediately by soft footsteps. He barely had time to wipe away a tear that had spilled over before a nurse came in carrying a clipboard and a bag of saline.
“Oh, I didn’t realize Miss Ruiz had left. And you are--” the young woman began, but she stopped short when Angel looked up. She stared at his face while barely breathing, then finally managed to stammer, “Angel… oh god, that means... this is your mom…”
She had trouble putting her thoughts together as she looked from the SEAL to his mother and back again. Meanwhile, Angel could only return her breathless stare.
“Madison? What are you doing here?” he finally breathed, still clutching his mom’s fingers like they were made of glass.
“I… I moved back after… never mind.” She squared her shoulders and her expression became business-like again. “I’m checking on your mom. You’re smart enough to know that she’s in bad shape. They took her from the ER to surgery to repair some internal bleeding, and they had to remove her spleen, which had ruptured from the impact. Then, this morning they set her arm and put the screws in place.”
Madison moved around Gabriella’s bed with an uncomfortable expression on her face, clearly ill at ease with Angel there. She swapped out the IV bag and made notes on her tablet from each of the monitors, checked her vital signs and nodded grimly as she tapped at the screen with the little stylus.
“I’ll be back to check on her. In the meantime, you can call the desk if she needs anything.”
And with that, she practically flew from the room, leaving Angel to stare stupidly at her retreating back, wondering what had brought his former fiancee back to Abilene.
Angel listened numbly as the doctor rambled on about contusions and hematomas and likelihood of survival combined with probable outcomes for quality of life. He never came out and said death or dying, but it was obvious in the way he was talking. When he finally got around to saying the words “committed permanently to a long-term care facility,” it was all Angel could do not to launch himself from the chair and put his fist through the man’s ever-talking mouth. He balled his fists instead, his nails puncturing the calluses on the rough palms of his hands. As if he would ever lock his mother away in a nursing home, let alone give up on her chances of a recovery.
“So, do you have any further questions for me?” the doctor asked, still droning in a bored voice. He was oddly disinterested for someone who was describing a coma patient’s condition right in front of her.
Angel shook his head, not trusting himself to open his mouth and answer. The chances that he’d let fly a string of profanity-laced insults was too great.
“Then I’ll send the nurse in soon to check on your mom again in an hour. Good night.” The doctor nodded his head and left without another word, leaving Angel to fume. He had no idea how much time had passed but before too long, the door opened again and Madison stepped through, avoiding his eyes.
“Hi… just checking on your mom,” she said sheepishly, as though she had to explain why she was there.
“You don’t have to tell me that. I figured that’s why you’d come in here,” he joked, but his heart wasn’t even close to being in it. Madison smiled, all the same.
She went about her checks, making notes on her tablet. Her expression was less severe than before when she turned back to Angel.
“How’s she doin’, Maddy?” he asked, slipping back into their old ways without thinking about it.
“She seems stable,” Madison offered in a non-committal voice. “I mean, I’m not supposed to say anything, the doctor will give you regular updates and all…” She shifted her feet nervously, and Angel couldn’t help but watch the awkwardness on her thin face. A slight flush crept across her pale complexion, making what was left of her childhood freckles seem just a little more prominent.
He narrowed his black eyes, and his thick brows creased together. “I don’t play games, remember? If you’ve got something to tell me about my mom, it stays in this room. And you owe it to me. Tell me the damn truth and explain what that pinhead doctor was talking about before I lose it. Got it?”
“Got it,” she whispered, swallowing loudly. “Well, they were able to draw out a lot of the fluid around her brain. That’s what these...um, holes...right here around her hairline came from. But there’s s
till a lot of swelling, and that’s the major concern right now. Getting the swelling down and restoring normal blood flow will mean the difference between…” She stopped, then remembered what he’d said about playing games. “...life and death.”
If she thought Angel would flinch, she was mistaken. Years of getting the job done while detaching himself from the situation around him had taught him to remain stoney in the face of upheaval.
“And if it doesn’t come down? The swelling, I mean?”
“Then, there’s an excellent chance of restricted blood flow, which would basically be like having one stroke after another. If that happens and blood flow isn’t restored, then the brain will begin to die. I’m gonna be honest with you--”
Why start now? Angel thought bitterly, but he stopped himself from actually saying it. This wasn’t the time to bring up old shit.
“--in the event of the ministrokes, it would be better for your mom to slip away quietly than live with the aftermath.” Madison paused to make sure Angel really wanted her to keep going. He nodded once, and she said, “If the strokes only impair her functions, she’ll need round-the-clock care for the rest of her life. She could retain her ability to breathe and keep her heart functioning, but she may not ever wake up.”
“Thanks for telling it like it is,” he managed to say after a long silence. “I don’t have time for bullshit or being yanked around with medical jargon. I just needed to hear the facts.”
“Well, those are the facts, as much as I wish they weren’t. I’ll just… I’ll be at the nurse’s station if she needs anything,” she said before practically running for the door. She stopped with her hand on the oddly shaped latch. “And Angel? I’m really sorry.”
“For what? For my mom, or for walking out on me?” he demanded without so much as a glance in her direction. His eyes were trained on his sweet mother’s face. That way, he didn’t have to see Madison when she silently left the room.
