Both men stopped and looked at her as if she had three heads.
The doctor seemed to search for his words before he replied, “Umm…Joseph?”
“Joey? He finally agreed to take something for pain. He may have thought it was Tylenol. He is in the other bedroom.”
Doc chuckled and shook his head as he and the tall, sandy haired man easily moved Chief onto the stretcher. His words came slow and measured…almost hesitant. “Let me guess. It wasn’t.”
She suspected the doctor might have a slight speech impairment. His mind was sharp though.
Ember eyed the doctor and shook her head now leery that the man might report her deceit in dealing with her patient. “Drugging a patient without informed consent would be considered unethical. Anyway, you’ll need to run some labs but the wounds are definitely infected. His strength had returned and his injuries were repairing nicely until he went out into the hills. Whatever he had to do up there, it ruptured every laceration that had been remodeling. I believe he may be in the early stages of septicemia. Now that he is out I have him on IV antibiotics.”
The doctor flew into a flurry of sign language and the younger man nodded and bent to lift the stretcher. As the men carried Mike out of the room, the younger one spoke. “Alright we’ll get Chief to the chopper and come back for Joseph. Pack everything you need. You won’t be coming back here. The location has been compromised.” Doc nodded in agreement.
“Ma’am, Fury…I mean Joseph…he recovered a backpack with a computer and a notebook this morning. We’ll need that too.”
“It’s all by the back door. Joey made me pack everything before he would take anything for his injuries.”
She watched the men make quick work of the transport and return quickly. They transferred and loaded Joseph and the bags before bundling her into the aircraft. Doc secured the side door and helped Ember strap in after he assisted her with her helmet.
“We’re heading to Guardian’s new training facility in South Dakota.” He looked out the window as if attempting to recall something. Just before they lifted off the ground he yelled, “A ranch in the middle of nowhere.”
“A ranch? Really?” Ember shouted back.
“Yeah. Good people.”
A disembodied voice came over the speaker in her helmet. “That’s affirmative ma’am. The Marshall ranch is our new training and recovery site. Chief runs it that’s why he was able to come out here to assist you.”
Ember had no idea which one of the two pilots spoke. She watched as the two men’s hands flew over switches, buttons, and LED displays. Doctor Cassidy sat between his two patients and performed all the tests she would have performed.
Left to her own thoughts, Em moved her foot to touch Joey’s as he lay face down on a stretcher. The mere contact grounded her. His wounds wept through the dressings. Looking out over the mountainous terrain, she fought back the tears that suddenly threatened. Seventy-two hours ago life had been so easy. Three days later the tally stood at four men dead, one man critically injured and Joey fighting off toxic infections sustained at the hands of God knows who. Joey. Fury. Assassin. Protector and lover. A deluge of realization hit her jolting her mind with the hard cold facts of exactly who Joseph King was. Oh God! No, no matter what he was, what he had done—she loved him. A single tear rolled down her cheek unchecked. So many lives wasted. So much pain and suffering endured.
*
Ember sat in the same place she’d been for the last seventy-two hours, Joey’s bedside. The plastic chair left a lot to be desired in the way of comfort. She needed sleep. Her judgment on any level was compromised. That’s why she pretended not to hear the exchange between Doctor Cassidy and the man who entered the facility. Frank Marshall had checked on the men several times in the past three days.
“Frank, do me a large and get these women out of here. Dr. Harris hasn’t slept more than a couple hours in days and Desiree is a wreck.”
Frank gave Doc a once over. “I can do that. What about you? You look like shit.”
Doc gave a humorless chuckle. “Sorry I don’t meet the Miss South Dakota beauty pageant standard.” The doctor nodded towards Ember. Frank waited as the doctor searched for the words his mind knew but couldn’t get his mouth to say. Ember had done the same since he told her about his brain injury and the lingering effects. Finally, he spoke. “Get them to stand down. I’ll stay until Dr. Harris comes back and then I’ll catch some sleep.”
“Ahh, huh…sure you will. I’ll send over some food. You need to eat.”
“I don’t need food.”
“Yeah? Well, I say you do. You’ll eat it too or I’ll come back and feed it to you.”
Ember closed her eyes and tried not to smile. The older man looked like he could follow up on his threat. When she opened her eyes, the gruff man’s demeanor had changed radically. His expression softened before he put a work-worn hand on Desiree’s shoulder and shook her gently. “Dee, honey, come on. Mike is sleeping comfortably. You won’t do him any good if you’re so tired you can’t be here when he needs you.” He looked at Ember. “Ain’t that right, doc?”
Ember nodded wearily. “He’s right, Desiree. Mike’s resting comfortably. He isn’t having any issues. You should get a shower, some sleep, and food. When he wakes up and gets ornery, you’ll thank us for making you take a break.”
The man smiled. “Same goes for you, Doctor Harris. Joseph is resting…now. The restraints will keep him from fighting anyone or hurting himself. You need to crash so you can come back and relieve my boy Adam over there.”
Ember’s sly glance his way ended with a raised eyebrow. “Mr. Marshall, I applaud you. That was very well played. I didn’t see that one coming at all.” Her sarcasm held humor and the man’s expression told her he got it. Ember lifted off the chair, bent down and brushed a kiss on Joseph’s temple and stretched. She yawned as she said, “Alright, come on Desiree, food, shower and sleep.”
Desiree lifted from the chair. She bent over and carefully placed a kiss on Mike’s cheek before she took a long deep breath and turned her chocolate brown eyes towards Frank.
“I know Mike doesn’t want me here. He told me last week he didn’t think we should see each other anymore. Felt he couldn’t give me what he thought I deserved. When they flew him in, I was here to tell mom I took a job working at the Hollister Ranch. I thought maybe….”
She pulled her hand through her long brown hair apparently gathering her thoughts. Desiree cleared her throat and finished her thought. “I thought I would stay until he woke. But in all honesty, I don’t want to hurt like this anymore. I can’t.” She looked over at Ember and gave a tenuous smile. “Thank you for taking care of him. He is a good man, even though he’ll never believe that about himself.” Desiree swiped a finger under her eyes as tears brimmed over and fell down her suntanned cheeks. Yet, she straightened her back and nodded as if confirming her own internal convictions. “Bye, Uncle Frank.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him before she walked out the door.
“It probably isn’t my place to say anything, but I think he does love her. He talked about her after he was shot.”
“Hell, Doc, everyone at the ranch knows Chief loves that soft-spoken little sprite. The big man is going to have to scramble to get her back. Once a Marshall woman has made up her mind and set sail, God and all the forces of creation would have a fit trying to alter their course. Almost serves the idiot right for pushing her away. Almost.” He put his hand on the small Ember’s back and gently urged her out the door. “One thing you will learn about the men from Guardian…they will fight Satan’s demons through the burning mazes of hell simply because it’s the right thing to do. But place them in the vicinity of a good woman? Four out of five times they’ll screw it up.”
“Four out of five times?” Her low chuckle and inquiry got a sly smile in return as they exited the little hospital.
“Yes, Ma’am. Jacob got it right straight out of the chute. Figured out what he wanted and didn�
��t stop until he got her. Swept my daughter Victoria off her feet and never looked back. Doc, Chief, your man, and the rest? Far as I can tell, all those boys are in serious need of a kick in the ass.”
Ember stopped and looked at him. She gave him a tired wink and a smile. “Mr. Marshall, I believe you may just be the man to do it, too.” Ember saw a flush rise to his cheeks.
“We all have our crosses to bear ma’am, taking care of these boys is mine. And the name is Frank. We don’t stand on ceremony around here.”
*
The haze that pulled at him lessened. He needed to get up. Get out. His mind demanded his body move and yet it wouldn’t. The uncertainty and confusion multiplied when he felt his muscles flex. He was tied, flat on his stomach. Fuck.
Where am I? What op were you on? Think, damn it, King! What is the last thing you remember? Holy Fuck! Ember! Where the hell was she? Joseph forced his eyes open and pulled against whatever was keeping him down. The florescent lighting jarred his eyes. He blinked rapidly to focus. Tile floor, white walls, stainless steel tray. A sweating plastic cup with a straw sticking out the top. No instruments of torture, no hypodermic needles. Fresh cold water. He was safe. Probably in South Dakota. But why the fuck couldn’t he move? He tensed again and pulled with all his strength. The bed groaned. Restrained. Joseph pulled against the restraints again in a quick sharp snap of movement.
“I’ll take them off when you tell me who you are and where you are.” Doc’s voice was low and soft, but Joseph recognized it immediately.
Joseph slowly turned his head towards Doc. “I’m the man who is going to kick your fucking ass if you don’t come release me from these restraints.”
“Yeah, threats of aggression aside, tell me who you are and where you are.” Doc gave him a seriously jacked up sneer.
“Joseph King. I was in Wyoming, but I’m assuming I’m now at the Annex on Frank Marshall’s ranch in South Dakota.” He face-planted into the soft pillow. “Where is Ember? Why was I restrained? I have a bitch of a headache.” The pillow rendered his questions in to a muffled, rumbling and snarfing noise.
Doc chuckled and Joseph felt him release the restraints. “Don’t roll over. It will screw up all our work on your back. And I don’t speak pillow. Repeat that?”
Joseph turned his head just far enough to be understood. “For the second time, where is Ember? Why was I restrained? I have a bitch of a headache.”
“Yeah, okay. Joseph, look at me.”
Joseph turned his eyes towards him. Doc used American Sign Language.
I have lingering issues with my speech. This is an easier way for me to communicate.
When Joseph nodded his understanding, Doc continued.
The headache is probably because of the fever that caused your delirium. The delirium is the reason you are in restraints. Your woman knocked your ass out until we could pump enough meds into you to lower your temperature. Frank convinced Dr. Harris to stand down. She hasn’t slept much in the seventy-two hours we’ve been back.
“Longer than that. She needs to sleep.” Joseph pulled his arms under his body when Doc released him. “How’s Chief?”
Doc sat back down and shrugged. “SNAFU.”
“Situation-normal-all-fucked-up. Ain’t that the perfect metaphor for our lives?”
“That or FUBAR.”
“Fucked-up-beyond-all-repair? Yeah, that one would work too.” Joseph adjusted his position on the pillow cradling his head with his arms. God that felt so much better than the strapped down position he’d been in.
Doc grinned and nodded. “He’ll be okay. Your lady’s a...good doctor.”
Joseph closed his eyes. The pain Doc’s statement caused was immediate. “She’s not mine. Used to be a long time ago. Now I can’t risk contaminating her life with the death and destruction that surrounds me.”
Doc gave a short whistle. Joseph opened his eyes. Doc signed, I’ve read the reports. About what happened over there? I don’t remember. Tell me what you saw.
Joseph cleared his throat and thought back to the weeks they had spent in country waiting for Doc to get better. “You had a massive head trauma when we pulled you out of the Afghani camp. The first couple of days, you responded well to rest and what little medication I had squirreled away in that God-forsaken wasteland. The enemy forces had us holed up. We couldn’t leave, not just because of you, but because of Jared. He screwed up his ankle. Bad. We all lived on rations meant for one and it weakened all of us. You started to get worse. Your eye? Well, I honestly don’t know if we could have saved it even if we got out the first night.”
Joseph watched Doc focus on one of the granite tiles between his feet. Waves of exhaustion poured over him. He could barely keep his eyes open. “Did you ever tell her?” Joseph felt his eyes close and damned if he could do anything to keep them open.
“Who? Did I tell who what?” Doc’s voice brought him back to the edge of consciousness.
“Huh? Oh yeah, Keelee. You couldn’t talk so you signed when you were in the cave. The night I watched you towards the end? You kept signing you needed to tell her you loved her.” Joseph heard some sort of mumbled reply, but he couldn’t focus anymore. His body felt like it was floating. The waves pulled him over the edge and oblivion took over.
Chapter Twelve
Ember snuggled further into her bed. Soft. So soft, warm and comfortable. Oh, the bliss of waking up in one of those perfect positions that you never want to move from because your body hovers in complete relaxation. No stress, no aches, no reason to get up. Hmmm...why is the light so bright?
Ember bolted to a sitting position, blinking rapidly, pushing her hair out of her eyes. The unfamiliar room confused her. Memories of the previous week shoved themselves into her mind. The ranch. She was at Frank Marshall’s ranch in South Dakota. Guardian’s training and recovery facility. Joey and Chief! No…no it’s alright. They’re okay. The clock on the bedside table explained the sunshine. Noon. Flopping back on the pillows, she rubbed her face.
Double bags of dog crap! She was supposed to have relieved Doctor Cassidy after a nap. Ember flew into the bathroom barely cognizant of the fact she should be exhausted. She beat her patented five-minute shower time by at least a minute. Clothes on, hair and teeth brushed in less than three.
Ember ripped open the door, launched out of the room, and slammed face first into a hard, immovable object. The force of the collision landed her directly on her ass. Not a dainty sit-down. Oh no, this was a boink-rebound-smack-splat that ended in a full double-ass cheek plant of Olympic proportions. Man, hardwood floors hurt like crazy.
A man’s hand presented itself in front of her face. “Dr. Harris, I presume?”
Ember pushed her curls out of her face and looked from the hand, up the well-muscled arm, past to the massive chest on to the dark hair and laughing brown eyes of a rather mature looking man. She wouldn’t call him old, but the grey at his temples and the lines around his eyes indicated he was older than his well-conditioned body let on.
Ember accepted the hand up. Without any dignity, she reached back and massaged her sore posterior. “Ahhh...yeah, that would be me. I’m all about making great first impressions. I didn’t dent you or anything did I?”
A warm rumble of laughter filled the hall. “No, I think you received all the damage during that collision.”
Ember felt the blush rolling up to her cheeks. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Good thing I have ample padding. You Guardian guys are like freaking brick walls.”
Again warm laughter rolled from the man. “Well, I’m not quite sure how to take that. Are we built like brick walls or mentally as thick as them?”
Ember did a double take at the man. “Honestly, from the guys I’ve met so far, I’d have to say a lot of the built and a little of the other. Do you work or train here?”
The man shook his head and motioned towards the grand stairway. “Neither, my name is Gabriel. I run Guardian.”
Ember stopped at the top of the s
tairs. Ahh…the boss. “In charge of everything? Everybody? That means you could tell Joey not to go after the cartel.”
Gabriel put his hands on his hips and gave Ember an assessing look. “Yes I could, but I won’t.”
What? Why not? “But he’s exhausted. He’s been injured and is recovering from a massive infection! Can’t someone else go?”
Gabriel motioned down the stairs and Ember fell in beside him. “I’ll ensure he’s recovered and medically cleared before he’s released to finish this assignment. There isn’t anything in this world that could stop him from taking out the man who put a contract out to kill you. I’d rather he have the support in the field that we, at Guardian, can provide.”
Ember shook her head as he held open the screen door and accompanied her down the porch steps. She started towards the clinic. He kept her leisurely pace not seeming to be in any hurry. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but in addition to the dialog stuck on repeat in her head the lack of conversation teetered on awkward.
Finally, she blurted out what she had been thinking. “I wish I’d never called him. If I had just gone to the police or turned the thumb drive over to Dale’s employers, none of this would’ve happened. Four men are dead because of that damn drive. Dale, the two men on the way to Joey’s and the man they sent to kill me. Chief was shot and Joey was pushed to the limits of his physical endurance.” She stopped on the crush rock path before they reached the hospital.
“Look, I know I don’t have the right to ask you not to allow him to go. He would be pissed if he knew I had. But I’ve come to the hard cold realization I love that man. What he has done? I mean the work he’s done for you? Is it…I mean he’s still a good guy, right? He hasn’t killed anyone that didn’t…I guess what I’m trying to ask is…”
“Let me help you out here. Joseph is a scalpel. My organization uses him to surgically remove cancerous lesions that if left in place, would allow abominations of humanity, beyond our civilized world’s limited comprehension, to flourish. He is the best in the world. Period. And as to your point about none of this happening had you not contacted him? Yeah, you’re right. It probably wouldn’t have. But Dale would still be dead. You’d be dead. That, my dear, is a certainty. Also, an absolute fact—the corrupt politicians, judges, law enforcement officials and businessmen who channel those drugs into our nation would still be making money hand over fist. And every man, woman and child who are addicted to the cocaine, ‘H’ and weed would still have easy access to the drugs that will eventually destroy their lives or kill them. But because you called, that network is now in ruin, those filthy participants are either on the run or in jail. And as an added bonus two confirmed murderers and one ruthless assassin are no longer part of my world.”
Joseph Page 12
