by Chrys Fey
Eyes still shut, she went to roll over onto her right shoulder, to relieve the ache in her back, but couldn’t move her legs. Something had her ankles.
The nightmare of Jackson Storm hanging onto her ankles, dragging her to the bottom of the ocean, resurfaced. Hysteria bubbled up inside her. Her eyelids snapped open. Padded belts were strapped around her ankles. Sitting up, she was brought short. She looked down at the strap around her right wrist.
“Get them off,” she shouted and tried to pick at the contraption with her fingernails. Every movement of her fingers sent darts of pain up her arm to her shoulder.
She jerked her legs, wanting to break the leather. The bed beneath her vibrated with her rampage. “Get them off!”
People rushed into the room. She looked at them as a cornered animal would, as though she would kill them before they could kill her. Except none of them had the faces of the men who had been tormenting her for days. That didn’t make her feel any safer, though, when they surrounded her and pressed her flat against the bed.
“Let me go!” She tried to fight them off, but her left arm was in a sling and her other limbs were tied down. “Let go, let go, let me go!” They weren’t letting her go. Their hands applied more pressure to stifle her rocking. All she could do was shake her head from side to side.
“Stop!”
The command halted her heart. She would recognize that voice anywhere. Blinking the haze from her vision, she looked to where it came from. A gap formed in the crowd and Donovan appeared like an apparition. He shoved the people out of his way to get to her.
His hands tenderly cupped her face. “Ssh. It’s okay, Beth. You’re at the hospital.”
Hospital? Frowning, she reexamined her surroundings. The swirling colors settled, and she made out the objects that were so strange before—the beeping came from the machines monitoring her vitals, the snake biting her arm was an IV, and the monsters were doctors and nurses. Her gaze drifted back to Donovan. A growth of beard darkened his cheeks and jawline. His face was tanner, but his eyes were as bright as ever.
“You’re…you’re real?”
Donovan’s smile melted her heart. “Yes, I’m real.” He kissed her forehead. The contact brought tears to her eyes. She hadn’t felt love or compassion in days.
“Can you undo the straps? I don’t want to be tied down.” The tears leaked from her cheeks, leaving wet paths.
He turned to the doctors and nurses. “Take them off her.”
“We put them on her so she wouldn’t harm anyone, or herself,” someone in a white coat said.
“Do you realize the nightmare she was in before we brought her here? She was scared. I’m here. She’s not going to hurt anyone.” When they didn’t move, he advanced toward them. “Remove the straps. Now.” His voice was a low growl.
The doctor nodded and the nurses set to work freeing her. Once her ankles were released, she curled up her legs. An odd burning and pulling sensation between her legs made her shift. The strap was removed from her right wrist, and she lifted her hand to see it bandaged. Her middle and ring fingers were splinted. “Broken?”
Donovan’s eyes softened. “Yeah.” His answer was a breath. He gently took her wrist with his fingers and held her bandaged hand between his. She could barely feel his touch. He was trying so hard not to hurt her.
Her eyes shifted to the foot of the bed. She was relieved to see they were alone. The doctors and nurses had quietly excused themselves.
“How long have I been here?”
“Three days. They patched up your…” his voice cracked. “They patched up your gunshot wound and gave you a ton of medicine to battle the infection you were developing. They gave you a blood transfusion and bag after bag of fluids. You have a catheter and, for a while, you were hooked up to oxygen.”
Well, that explained the weird sensation between her legs—a catheter.
Donovan lowered his head. “I was terrified.”
“I’m sorry,” she croaked.
He shook his head, leaned forward, and kissed her lips, which she doubted felt good against her dry, cracked lips.
“How’d you find me?”
“Thorn…and these.” He dipped his hand into a pair of shorts she didn’t recognize and showed her what lay in his palm. Her charm bracelet and infinity engagement ring.
She gasped. “You found them.” More tears developed. “I hated leaving them like that. I felt as though I was leaving parts of myself behind. The most important parts.”
“I know, but I’m glad you did.” He wiped her cheeks with his thumbs.
“What about the men who grabbed me?”
“We got them. It’s okay now. Rest.”
Rest sounded like a great idea, but she was still afraid of what she’d see if she closed her eyes. “You’ll be here while I sleep?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Her mouth tilted up in a smile. “That’s what you said before.”
His eyebrows lowered.
He didn’t understand, so she elaborated, “You were with me in that hellhole during my darkest time. You were with me. It might’ve been a hallucination, I realize that, but it comforted me.”
“I’m glad I could be there for you.”
His smile revealed he wished he had really been there, and been there sooner.
For the rest of the day, she slept on and off. In the morning, she woke feeling less groggy than the day before, but in more pain. The drugs they had pumped into her after her operation had worn off, and it was time for another dose. A kind nurse gave her some pain killers. Another brought her some lunch consisting of pureed soup, orange Jell-O, apple sauce, and a bottle of ice-blue Gatorade. Donovan tended to her when she was incapable and fed her the soup one spoonful at a time. She appreciated his patience and affection, but she hated being so injured she couldn’t even feed herself. Beth, the self-defense instructor who took on a hurricane and an earthquake, wouldn’t even be able to recognize the Beth in that hospital bed.
Later, a nurse removed her catheter. The tug of the small object leaving her body made her wince. She felt better with it gone, though. A couple of naps and another meal of soup and custard replenished her strength.
That night, Thorn visited. He stepped into the room, barely moving beyond the threshold, and stood there with his hands in his pocket as if unsure what to do next.
“How are you doing?”
She smiled. “Better.”
“I’m glad.” He rocked back and forth on his heels. His eyes resembled the eyes of a puppy staring up at her from the floor while she lay in an empty bed. How could she resist those eyes?
She sat forward. “Thorn, come here and give me a hug.”
He crossed to her in two strides. His arms wrapped around her waist, and his cheek pressed to hers. He held on for a moment before kissing her on the temple and pulling away. “I’m so happy to see you.” His fingers trailed along the strap of her sling. “Even with this.”
She nodded. “I’m happy to see you, too. I could’ve died from happiness when you answered my first phone call.”
His smile wobbled. She never thought about what he went through after she called him. And how in the world did he link up with Donovan?
She asked just that.
“That’s a long story.”
“Thorn, have a seat and tell her,” Donovan said. “She needs to hear it.”
Thorn sat in a chair on the other side of her bed. “Right after you hung up the first time, I drove straight to the airport and got on the first flight to San Fran. During the whole flight, I went through dozens of strategies for how I was going to get to Oahu and find you. When I got to the coast, I went to a Navy Yard. I figured if any military force in the United States would came to Hawaii’s aid, it would be the Navy base stationed in California. When I got there, I ran into a few problems. Let’s just say, there was a fight. I was detained until Chief Cormac vouched for me. I was released and told to never come back, or I’d be arrested
and charged with some bullshit. Anyway, I went to the docks next and tried to bribe fishing vessels to take me across the ocean. They were tempted but too scared to make the journey because of the tsunami. I tried to tell them a tsunami in the open ocean is about a foot tall, but they wouldn’t budge. Not even when I raised my offer.”
“To what?”
“Fifty thousand.”
Beth’s mouth opened in shock. “You…you were going to pay that much just for me?”
“Just for you.” Thorn glanced in Donovan’s direction. “Beth, you’re a good person. The best. The lives of so many would be destroyed if you died. You’re worth forty times that amount.”
She dropped her head. Tears fell onto her lap, creating dark spots on the cotton blanket spread over her lap. She shook her head, not wanting to believe she was worth that much. Or worth the trouble he went through.
“When the fishermen wouldn’t help, I was roaming around like a chicken with its head caught off for a while. Then I heard on the radio that the Hawaii Emergency Management Agency in Honolulu sustained damaged and was having a hard time bringing aid to the island; I went to the Bay Area American Red Cross. They were loading up supplies when I got there. I was able to get the person in charge to agree to let me come along. It took a lot of persuading, but when I said they’d be responsible for another death, one they could have prevented, I was allowed onboard. We landed at the Kalaeloa Airport and drove to Honolulu. Some went to the Shriner’s Children’s Hospital and another group went to the Kapiolani Medical Center. I went with the latter because I remembered you said you were heading to the same one when they grabbed you, so I went inside and asked if I could use their PA. system. At first, I was told no. But I showed my badge and told the nurse a message wouldn’t hurt anyone. She said Donovan’s name a few times and told him if he was there to come to the front desk. And he did.”
Thorn grinned. “The son-of-a-bitch was alive, and he was there. We went off together. I saw your bracelet, and Donovan found your ring. I convinced the police chief to send help. In fact, he sent a SWAT team. We stormed the building, took down Jackson’s men, and found you in the closet.” His eyes lowered a moment before he continued. “We brought you here in the SWAT truck. Donovan carried you in with an escort of a heavily armed team. There was no way you weren’t getting admitted. They took you straight to surgery.”
His eyes said what his voice didn’t, seeing her nearly lifeless on the floor would forever stay with him.
The terror she endured in that building, in that closet, came back to her as strong as the tsunami, as strong as a bomb. Combined with the things Thorn did to find her and the unspoken events Donovan went through, she couldn’t stop her onslaught of emotions. She broke down. She couldn’t bury her face in her hands, though, and felt naked to the world as she wept.
“Beth, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head from side to side. She wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but sobs came forth from her mouth. A hand touched her knee. Through the wet shield over her eyes, she recognized Thorn’s hand with the small scar and the plain platinum band he wore. She knew he wasn’t married, had never been, but she didn’t know the significance behind the ring or why he wore it daily.
“I’m gonna go. I’ll check back in tomorrow.”
Beth could’ve laughed. Every time she cried, Thorn wanted to flee. What would he do if he had a woman and she cried for whatever reason? The thought of him panicking wasn’t strong enough to make her laugh, though. She continued to sob, her body rocking with the violence of it.
Donovan sat on the edge of the bed and put an arm behind her. “It’s okay, baby. You survived. You’re safe.”
She cuddled into his side and cried into his chest, needing to feel as safe as he said she was, but unable to believe it.
Chapter Twenty One
The doctors kept Beth in the hospital for two weeks. Balancing a spoon on her splinted fingers, her hand shaking, she was able to feed herself small amounts. She couldn’t eat much, though. Those fourteen days in the hospital, including the three days she was unconscious, plus the three days she was locked up in the closet, resulted in her losing fifteen pounds.
The doctor said losing weight was normal in her circumstances and reassured him she was above the line where they’d be concerned about her weight. Even so, her collar bones and hip bones stuck out of body. Black hollows swallowed her eyes. Her skin was too pale. The veins in her arms looked like blue snakes. Dark, straight hair grew from her unshaved legs.
She was a fragile creature with a small resemblance to the woman he married. Her voice was even different. Scratchy as if her vocal cords had been burned with acid. Whenever she spoke, she sounded miles away. Her words empty. She was like a shell of who she used to be. Seeing her like that broke Donovan’s heart. All he could do was be there for her, although he wanted to do more.
During the two weeks, the doctors closely monitored her vitals and blood count, making sure infection didn’t return. She was extremely lucky the bullet had made a clear path through the meat of her shoulder and didn’t shatter bone. Her physical therapy went well, too. Tears would stream down her cheeks as she rotated her shoulder and lifted her arm, but she never uttered a complaint or let loose a sob.
At first, a nurse had to support her frail body whenever she got out of bed, helping her to take baby steps to the bathroom. After a couple of days, she was able to walk under her own power. Then she was able to take short walks with him around the hospital’s wing. He’d push her IV pole, and she’d shuffle along beside him.
Once during their walks, she stopped in front of a window. He didn’t know until there was a tug on the IV pole. When he turned, he found her immobile. Her right arm, with the IV taped to the crease in her elbow, was stretched out toward him. He had pulled on the IV. “Shit, sorry.” He backed up. “What are you doing?”
“I wanted to see the ocean.” Her voice was toneless. “I wanted to see if it was different.”
He peered out the glass windowpane. The sky overhead was a soft blue. No clouds in sight. The crowd of homeless, helpless people were gone, transported to other hospitals throughout the islands of Hawaii or to shelters. A crew had cleaned up the debris they had left behind. Donovan was glad. He didn’t want Beth to see any remnants from the tsunami. Not even a piece of trash. It would be too much for her delicate mind.
In the distance, he could make out a strip of blue.
“Let’s go back to your room.”
She didn’t resist as he took her elbow and steered her away from the window.
Her doctors said she was excelling in her recovery, but Donovan knew psychologically her health was a different matter. He didn’t know what happened during her sessions, but he knew what she was like with him. And if she wouldn’t talk to him, then he knew there was no way she would talk to a stranger. Unless, of course, it was easier for her to talk to someone she didn’t know, didn’t care for. That was a thought he didn’t like.
The day before she was released, her doctors removed the bandages from her shoulder to inspect the gunshot wound. Beth kept her eyes straight ahead and her chin lifted. She didn’t want to see it, so Donovan looked for her. Black stitches closed the holes on both sides. The skin was pink as if raw. It didn’t look as horrific as it did before the doctors rushed her into surgery, but it looked foreign. His jaw clenched.
While staring at the bruises blanketing her skin from shoulder to collar bone, he recalled another nasty bruise he had seen there. When Hurricane Sabrina visited Florida, Beth had risked her life to retrieve him from his crushed car. The gale force winds sweeping down the road pitched a rock the size of his fist into her shoulder. Many weeks went by before that bruise dissolved into the natural color of her skin.
The doctor cut away the stitches. Without them, the scaring became more visible. She’d forever bare a mark of the tsunami, of the pain inflicted by Jackson Storm’s men. A small, ragged circle that would
remind her of her fear in that God forsaken closet. And she had two of them—one to haunt her from the front, and the other to taunt her from the back. If he could erase them with kisses, he would. He’d kiss them night and day, but his lips held no magic, only love.
The next day, Beth was allowed to go home. Home was half a world away, though, and she wasn’t well enough to travel. A cab drove them to their honeymoon suite. Donovan’s foresight to get a hotel farther inland to save money had been a smart move, because the surge waters didn’t reach their hotel. With the room paid for a whole month, they were able to settle back into their room with no difficulty.
Beth lowered onto the edge of the bed and onto her right shoulder with her arm stretched out to keep her fingers safe. Donovan gently stretched out behind her. He was trying to figure out how to hold her when her arm, trapped in a sling, lifted a few inches. He slipped his arm underneath hers and rested his hand on her right wrist. It was the best he could do until she healed.
They slept together for hours. Having Beth in his arms helped Donovan to sleep more peacefully than he did in the chair next to her hospital bed. Every half hour, he’d wake up, check on her, and try to reposition his cramped limbs and crooked neck. He dropped into a sound sleep, knowing with great certainty Beth was okay. She was next to him, not hooked up to machines or tubes.
When he eased awake, he opened his eyes to a different ceiling than he was used to seeing. For a moment, confusion cocooned him. He had to recall the moments before his nap to remember where he was and to realize Beth wasn’t asleep next to him. He sat up with her name on his lips.
Flashing colorful lights and the hum of noise drew his eyes to the TV. The words “Devastation in Honolulu” dominated the screen. Then footage from the tsunami and the aftermath flashed by, fading into each other to reveal increasingly more heartbreaking still-shots. A child wailing atop a pile of debris. Strangers carrying a woman through floodwaters, her clothes clinging to her by a few fibers. A man cradling a baby in a bloated diaper to his chest; his bare feet were bloodied. Planes tossed belly-up at the Honolulu Airport, boats stranded inland, houses reduced to nothing, the hotels on the coast stripped away.
