Unconditional

by Holly Copella

  “I know, it's just a little heads up would have been nice,” she replied.

  “It's my fault,” Indy quickly announced and hurried to keep up with them. She needed to protect her father’s relationship. She didn’t want to see him lonely again. “I insisted. I'm very persuasive.”

  Liz looked back at Indy and smiled timidly. “It's nice how you two stick up for each other.”

  Flynn stopped near the large bar that seemed to separate the kitchen from the family room. He grabbed the first bottle he found and filled a glass with the contents. Liz leaned on the bar near him and studied him in silence a moment as he drained the entire contents of the glass.

  “I understand why you had to bring him here, I really do,” Liz gently announced.

  Indy studied her father’s expression as he stared inside his empty glass. She was usually good at reading his expressions, but his current look was puzzling to her. She hoped he wasn’t having second thoughts about allowing Harlan to recover at their house because Liz was moderately opposed to him staying.

  “But--?” Flynn remarked softly without looking at her.

  There was a long silence. Indy knew it was none of her business, and she wanted nothing more than her father to find happiness with Liz, but she was going to defend Harlan to the death, if necessary. Indy watched both with silent anticipation as her heart pounded harshly in her chest.

  “There isn’t one,” Liz replied softly. “The man saved your life, so it’s the least any of us can do.”

  Flynn’s head suddenly lifted and his surprise was evident. He looked at Liz as if he had been prepared for a verbal assault, but when it didn’t come, he was left speechless. A warm smile crossed his face.

  “I appreciate that, Liz,” Flynn replied and seemed to relax for the first time.

  It was now Liz’s turn to tense. “What about the party? Christmas Eve is in two days.”

  Flynn shifted slightly but assumed his commanding role. “Oh, Liz. I'm sorry,” he announced while shaking his head. “We can't have all those people here. I canceled the invites.” His look was sympathetic yet stern. “I hope you don't mind, it'll just be the guys and a couple of close friends.”

  Despite his sincere sounding, ‘I hope you don’t mind’, his mind had already been made up on the matter. Liz seemed disappointed but hid it well. She knew better than to argue after all Flynn and his men had been through. Indy knew how disappointed her father’s girlfriend must have felt, since she too would miss the grand party, but her father was right. Harlan needed time to recover and a big party wasn’t the proper atmosphere. There would be other holidays to celebrate.

  “I suppose that's best,” Liz replied then collected herself. She looked at Indy and attempted a smile. “Indy, why don't you help me with dinner? You can make a tray for Harlan. You know what he likes.”

  Indy nodded and headed to the kitchen with Liz. She watched the woman in silence. She wished she could offer some verbal support, but they were on opposing teams at the moment. Liz would need time to warm up to the idea of Harlan staying long-term with them and the excessive care he would require. Liz had only gotten her slightly war-torn man back in her life after a five-month stint in God-knows-where. Indy knew Liz and her father hadn’t had a great ‘welcome home’ celebration. Flynn’s physical injuries paled in comparison to his emotional ones while dealing with Harlan’s touch-and-go condition. He’d been emotionally distant during what little time he’d spent at home and around Liz. Indy just hoped the couple could survive the recent drama. She was fairly confident her father and Liz hadn’t even been intimate since his return, which screamed trouble in her mind. Indy would have to work especially hard to keep her father and Liz from being torn apart.

  Her father needed female companionship in his life, and he was lucky to find someone like Liz, who was willing to spend a great deal of time waiting for her man to return home. The thought of her father’s sexual needs made her slightly nauseous. Something that delicate in nature required an expert on the subject of fornication. She’d need to call Jackson into duty.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was early the following morning, and Indy was almost certain she’d be the first person up. She hurried down the backstairs and entered the kitchen. To her surprise, Jackson was already comfortably seated at the island counter while sipping his morning coffee and reading the sports section of the newspaper. She couldn’t understand how he could have gotten up before her. She hadn’t heard him in the shower, being their bedrooms shared a bathroom. He looked shower fresh, so he’d obviously taken one. He glanced up and noticed her at the bottom of the stairs. Jackson smiled his usual, charming smile.

  “Good morning,” he announced cheerfully. “You’re a late riser.”

  Indy wanted to smack Jackson. He didn’t have to gloat or be so cheerful. His perfect existence irritated her.

  “I thought I’d check on Harlan before having my morning tea,” she announced and headed across the kitchen.

  “The visiting nurse arrived,” Jackson announced and returned his attention to the paper on the counter. “You may want to hold off on that impromptu visit. He may be indecent.”

  She stopped just past the island counter then turned to face him with a look of surprise on her face. “The visiting nurse is here this early?”

  Jackson glanced at her with a dumbfounded look. “Early? Indy, it’s nearly seven o’clock.” He shook his head and turned his attention back to the paper. “College has made you soft.”

  Indy glared at the back of Jackson’s head. If he saw the look she’d been giving him, he wouldn’t be so smug. She loved the man, but she sometimes hated him with a passion. She’d forgotten how much Jackson annoyed her. Another older brother she never wanted. He glanced back at her, relished in her annoyance, and then finally grinned.

  “What? No come back?” he remarked with a sinister smile that she wanted to wipe off his face.

  He set his cup down and approached the stove on the opposite side of the island counter. He removed her favorite mug from the cupboard, placed a tea bag in it, and poured steaming water into the cup. He returned to the counter and set the mug on the corner near her. Jackson casually returned to his seat and slid the container of artificial sweetener toward her. She wanted to resist the urge to smile, but she loved the oaf too much. Indy joined him at the counter and added sweetener to her tea. Sometimes, having a surrogate big brother wasn’t so bad. She then thought about last night and the tension between her father and Liz. She dunked her tea bag a moment in silence then glanced at Jackson. Despite his concentration on the newspaper, he acknowledged the look she didn’t think he’d even seen.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “Should I be worried about my father?” she asked gently.

  Jackson pushed the paper aside, turned on his chair to give her his full attention, and leaned his elbow on the counter, resting his temple to his fist.

  “Why? Do you think he’s behaving oddly?” Jackson asked while cleverly raising his brow.

  She fidgeted slightly. Jackson had a tendency to psychoanalyze her at times, and he did it upfront just to annoy her.

  “There seems to be a lot of tension between him and Liz,” she replied.

  “Tension?” Jackson questioned. “You mean with Harlan crashing the party?”

  “No, there was tension before that,” she replied.

  “I haven’t noticed any tension between them.”

  “They’ve been apart five months,” Indy announced with a soft sigh. “He should be all over her.”

  “Monitoring your father’s sexual habits?” Jackson raised his brows and grinned slyly. “That’s pretty disturbing behavior, little girl.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she snapped hotly.

  She hated when Jackson referred to her as a little girl. It was an insult, especially considering he’d tried to get her into bed on more than one occasion.

  He inhaled deeply and straightened without taking his eyes off
her. “Under normal circumstances, I’m sure they’d be going at it like rabbits on ecstasy,” Jackson informed her, “but your father has a lot of his mind right now. Despite what you may think you know about men, sex isn’t always the first thing on our mind. Always in the top ten; but not always the first thing.”

  “So you don’t think there’s a problem between them?” she asked and felt a moment of relief.

  Jackson made a face and waved her off. “Nah,” he replied without forethought. “Your father’s a complex guy, despite what anyone says. He’s just worried about Harlan. We all are.” Jackson smiled more naturally. “But now that Harlan is somewhat alert, things are going to get better for all of us.” He returned to his coffee, took a sip, and didn’t bother looking back at her. “It’d be difficult for your father, night after night, to lie alongside that woman and not jump her.”

  She suddenly frowned. Now he was just annoying her for his own amusement. “Okay, more information than I needed,” Indy muttered.

  “You brought it up,” he casually replied and hid his grin.

  †

  Liz slept peacefully beneath the covers on the king-sized bed within the master bedroom. Flynn stood before the long dresser and watched the sleeping woman through the mirror. His stare was fixated and almost sad. He looked at the carved box on top of the dresser, hesitated, and opened it. Setting on top was his white gold wedding band. He stared at it a long moment then picked it up and slipped it onto his left ring finger. He stared at the ring on his finger for the longest time in silence. Liz stirred and stretched beneath the covers. Flynn quickly removed the wedding band and returned it to the box. He looked over his shoulder at the woman lying in his bed. She was again asleep. Flynn ran his hand over his bald head, cursed softly under his breath, and headed for the bedroom door. He left the room, silently shutting the door behind him.

  Chapter Twelve

  A loud crash from the guest bedroom startled Indy and Jackson within the kitchen. Both sprang up from their pub chairs, hurried down the hall, and ran into the guestroom. An attractive nurse in her early thirties, dressed in a festive scrub uniform, darted across the room and away from Harlan’s bedside. Harlan was sitting up in bed with his casted leg hanging over the edge. He threw a water glass at the nurse that nearly hit her in the head. The nurse, Callie, screamed as it shattered against the wall near the armoire. She hurried for them and immediately hid behind Jackson.

  “He's crazy!” Callie screamed.

  “She tried to kill me!” Harlan lashed out while pointing at her. He had a look in his eyes that was nearly frightening, reminding Indy of a mad dog.

  “It's a sedative,” the nurse protested to Harlan then looked at Jackson and Indy. “He became agitated.”

  “She was going to stick that thing up my ass,” Harlan shouted back while struggling to get out of the bed and to his feet. His determination to get up was concerning.

  Callie glared at Harlan from her position behind Jackson. “It's a suppository,” she launched back. “You haven't had a bowel movement in two days.”

  “Don't you fucking worry about my bowels!”

  Callie stepped alongside Jackson and glared at him. “Either he's sedated, or I won't take care of him.”

  “If she comes near me again with that needle or that bullet, I'll snap her fucking neck!” Harlan shouted back, ready to jump from the bed, which would almost certainly land him on the floor.

  Indy couldn’t believe the words coming from Harlan’s mouth. She’d never heard him threaten anyone, particularly a woman, and his tone was startling.

  “That's it, I'm out of here!”

  Callie grabbed her bag, stuffed her needles and suppositories into it, and stormed from the room. Indy and Jackson stared after her with surprise at what had just happened. Jackson suddenly turned and glared at Harlan.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Jackson demanded.

  “That fucking bitch tried to kill me!”

  “Stop with that language,” Jackson yelled back and appeared ready to strike his friend.

  Flynn hurried into the room, stared at the mess scattered on the floor, and then looked at the irate Harlan, who still attempted to get out of the bed. Liz, in her satin robe, arrived only a moment later.

  “What the hell--?” Flynn demanded.

  Jackson turned to face Flynn with a moderately concerned look. “He flipped out on the visiting nurse. She's gone.”

  “Perfect,” Flynn groaned and scratched his bald head. He sank into thought for only a moment then motioned wildly. “Everyone out. He's my responsibility.”

  “Dad, wait.”

  Flynn spun to face Indy with a look of frustration she rarely saw. “I said out, Indy,” he announced firmly. “I don't want you anywhere near him right now.”

  “Let me handle this,” Indy quickly informed him. “He's not going to hurt me.”

  “You think you know that man?” Flynn demanded while pointing at the man struggling to climb out of the bed. “Well, you don't. Harlan’s in combat mode. He's liable to hurt you without even trying.”

  “Dad, it's Harlan. Just give me a chance to calm him down,” she announced then turned sympathetic. “Please, trust me. Trust him.”

  Flynn considered her comment a moment, appeared defeated, and then groaned softly while nodding. Flynn, Jackson, and Liz remained just inside the doorway. Both men kept close watch on their injured comrade. Indy approached Harlan, who struggled in vain to get out of bed. He glared at her as she got closer with an unpredictable, harsh look. It was almost enough to stop her approach, but she wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. She summoned her courage and paused two feet before him.

  “Do you need some help?” Indy asked gently.

  Harlan's look immediately softened, and he appeared defeated. “I need to use the bathroom.”

  “I can help you.”

  Indy took a step closer to his bed and offered her arm to him. Harlan eyed her then took her arm and allowed her to help him stand. He limped on his casted leg while clinging to her arm with his arm in the cast. She assisted him to the guestroom’s private bathroom. Indy spent an awkward moment helping him onto the toilet while attempting to keep from looking. She left the bathroom and gave him some privacy. When he announced he was finished, she helped him back to the bed. He appeared relaxed and calm after his bathroom visit. Flynn and Jackson cleaned the broken glass from the floor while closely watching Indy and Harlan.

  “Would you like to get washed and dressed now?” Indy asked as he situated himself on the bed.

  “You won't let that woman near me, will you?” he demanded as his temper rose slightly.

  “No, she's gone.”

  His look was serious as he stared into her eyes. “She tried to kill me.”

  “She won't be back.”

  Harlan uncertainly looked at the casts on each of his arms then back at Indy as he exhaled with defeat. “I can't wash myself. Can you take these things off?”

  “Your casts have to remain on for now,” Indy replied gently. “I'll help you wash.”

  Flynn suddenly straightened and nearly dropped his dustpan filled with broken glass. “Indy--”

  Indy could feel her father’s eyes on her, but she refused to look back at him. She gave Harlan a serious look while indicating her father.

  “Do you recognize that man?”

  Harlan glanced past her to Flynn, who stared intently. He looked back at Indy. “He's mean,” he announced in a soft tone. His eyes widened dramatically as he whispered, “He wants to castrate me.”

  “That's your commanding officer, remember?”

  Harlan stared at her a moment with bewilderment then shook his head.

  “He's my father, and he's very protective of me,” she informed him in a stern tone. “If I help you wash and dress, you'll mind your hands, right?”

  “Yes, I'll mind my hands,” Harlan announced then studied her and smiled. “What's your name?”

  “Indy, reme
mber?”

  Harlan again shook his head. The lost look in his eyes reinforced that he had no idea who she was.

  “It'll come back to you, I promise.”

  Harlan’s smile brightened. “I hope so,” he replied. “I’d like to remember you.”

  Indy straightened while taking a deep breath then looked around the room. “Everyone out,” she commanded.

  “Indy, I'm not sure--” her father protested.

  “I said out,” she announced sternly. “I don't need the added embarrassment of an audience. Wait in the hall if you must, but close the door behind you.”

  She had successfully surprised both men with what was almost certainly a direct order. Oddly enough, both obeyed without further protest. A few minutes later, Indy had a washbasin alongside the bed. She sat on the bed facing Harlan with the covers up to his waist. He held a hand towel and dried his face while she washed his chest and shoulder. Indy tried desperately to clear her mind and pretend it wasn’t Harlan she was bathing. As she washed his chest, her eyes strayed to every scar, which there were many, and some she’d never seen before. His body was a road map of the many coups in which he’d partaken. Each scar pained her. She’d never realized how much action he’d actually seen.

  Not an outwardly muscular man like Nate, Harlan’s lean body had hidden excessively toned arms, shoulders, and abs. It occurred to her that she’d never actually seen him without his shirt. Unlike Nate and Jackson, he wasn’t nearly as proud of his battle scars. She found it difficult not to stare and even more difficult to forget the man she lovingly washed. She cursed herself for lingering over the washing process. She cursed herself for remembering old feelings she had for the war-torn hero. Once she rinsed off the soap, Harlan followed through with the drying process, his sad fingers sticking out of casts containing his broken, extensively pinned together bones. He behaved professionally and remained mostly silent while she gave him his bath, although she caught the stray looks he cast at her. She wasn’t sure what was going through his mind, but his mind was definitely reeling with information.