Sixteen
“They found him! Mark and Zack got Harley!” Mother burst into the Sit Room with the news flash, and Judy was off her seat and out the door. She grabbed her purse, but could not run fast enough to the elevator, her heart filled with an urgent need to fly.
Alex already stood waiting for her. “I’m driving. You coming?”
Of all the dumb questions. She didn’t answer, just joined him on the too long ride down to the parking garage, her foot tapping all the way. “How is he?”
Alex took a moment too long in answering.
“He’s hurt, isn’t he?” She raked a hand through her hair, angry that she was not where Harley was at this precise moment in time. She should have anticipated this and been waiting for him at the hospital. She should have been in position. Ahh! She should’ve stayed home last night and joined him in the shower. Maybe none of this would have happened!
“He’s been stabbed, but the paramedics have him stabilized.”
“Stabbed?” Her heart sank. “Where?”
Again Alex hesitated as he remote unlocked the closest vehicle.
“Spit it out, Alex. Stop trying to be a nice guy. You’re not good at it.”
“In the chest,” he said bluntly while he opened her door. “He’s also got a deep laceration on his leg. According to Zack, he was out of his head when they located him. The knife is still in place.”
Some of her panic diminished with this new information. Most people’s first reaction was to pull the knife out of stabbing victims. They thought they were helping when it was actually the worst thing they could do. Thank God Mark and Zack were not most people. “Do they know who knifed him?”
“Some old transient woman.” Alex eased the car through the rolling security gate. “Police have her in custody. She attacked Mark too.”
Judy gulped. “Can’t you drive faster?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He pressed his foot to the accelerator the second he cleared the garage. The man drove like a speed demon, but it still took forever. Suddenly, Alexandria was a long ways from D.C. and traffic too slow. Every red light induced more jitters until she wanted to scream.
At last, the hospital came into sight. Judy leaned forward in her seat and pointed to where he needed to go. “Go around back to the employees lot,” she ordered.
Alex obeyed, coasting past the ER entrance where several FBI sedans were already parked alongside vans from the press. A reporter stood talking into his cameraman’s lens. “We’ve got company. Looks like capturing the wrong guy is big news.”
“I’ll show them.” Judy pulled her employee ID out of her purse and handed it to Alex. “Here. Use this.”
“Got it.” He stopped at the parking lot gate and slid the card through the security reader.
Judy had to look twice. He’d turned into that calm under pressure kind of person while she was pinging off the walls in full-blown battle mode; her lips dry and her feet ready to run. She climbed out of the vehicle before he had a chance to open her door. “Follow me.”
“On your six,” he answered not two steps behind her.
She took him into one of the unmarked doors only medical personnel used. Hospitals had many behind the scenes hallways and off-limit examination rooms. Judy counted on her staff to have her back, that they’d have Harley safely stashed away. She ducked into the staff’s locker room and grabbed two pairs of surgical scrubs, one for her and the other for Alex. No one needed to know a suspected wife-killer and the monument sniper’s girlfriend were in the hospital. She intended to keep it that way.
“Tonight you are Dr. Stewart.” She handed him a surgical mask to match his disguise. “Put this on. Act like you’re important.”
She caught the glint in his blue eyes as he adjusted the mask over his nose. Yeah. That ought to be an easy task. Alex already had arrogance down to a fine art.
Together they passed more reporters and the grim agents from the FBI on their way to the ER. Judy took Alex past the admittance desk and entered through another secure door down the hall. Immediately, they were in the quarantined section where things like suspected Ebola virus or bubonic patients were kept secluded and the rest of the world safe.
Heather, one of her best nurses, looked up from the chart in her hand. “We’ve been waiting for you. He’s in 2A. Raj is with him.”
“Thanks, Heather.” Judy turned into the first corridor and entered cubicle 2A. She could have kissed Raj. He had Harley and Mark in separate examination rooms with two teams working their usual miracles. Not even the FBI could get back here.
Her heart still dropped when she parted the curtains. It’s one thing to see a body prepped for surgery, but when that body belongs to the man you love and a knife protrudes from the middle of his chest.... She couldn’t get her hands on Harley fast enough.
He looked so broken. A nasal cannula provided oxygen while his chest labored with the blade. The back of his skull had been shaved where a jagged laceration lay cleaned and ready for suture. Another nurse attended to the diagonal slash across his lower leg, already orange with an iodine wash. Overall, Judy’d seen worse, but her knees weakened anyway. She leaned into the edge of his exam table and took gentle hold of his bicep. Instant calm filled her.
“Stats on both men are good,” Raj informed her. “Doctor Statler is prepped for emergency surgery. He’ll remove the knife once he’s got the latest diagnostics, but I’m here to tell you, Judy. Your man is one lucky guy. It does not appear the blade hit anything major.”
“Not even his lungs?” Alex asked.
“No, sir,” Raj replied. “Not his thoracic artery either. It’s a good thing his assailant used a fillet knife. Anything wider and he’d be critical.”
Judy glanced at Alex. She’d forgotten he was in the room.
“There is minor bleeding though.” Raj handed her a stethoscope. “Statler won’t know for sure until he’s got him upstairs in surgery, but my guess is there’d be a lot more blood if he’d punctured a lung. Here. Take a listen for yourself.”
With shaky fingers, she inserted the eartips and rested the chestpiece of the stethoscope near the knife wound in Harley’s sternum. Adjusting the diaphragm, she focused on any high frequency sounds emanating from his chest cavity, any wheezing or crackling, anything that would indicate his lungs were compromised. Unexpected tears sprang to her eyes. Raj was right. Everything sounded good, but removing the blade would be the real test.
She lifted her eyes to Alex. He winked, and that simple act of friendship was very nearly her undoing. Here he was offering encouragement when she had nothing to give him in return.
“How’d he score on the coma scale?” She referenced the test emergency responders administered to victims in order to assess the severity of brain injuries. Focusing on the purely medical side of her patient helped get her emotions under control.
“He was coherent and responsive when the EMTs brought him in. I scheduled a CT scan after Statler finishes, but Judy,” Raj placed a hand to her forearm to get her attention. “Harley didn’t recognize me. Didn’t have a clue who Heather was either. He thinks he’s in Iraq.”
“He survived an IED blast over there,” Alex offered. “All of his men were killed.”
Judy turned on Alex, the short fuse to her temper instantly lit. It seemed she stumbled over another secret every time she turned around. “Are you sure? He’s never told me that.”
“He doesn’t know. He was in a coma for months. His doctors refused to tell him he’d lost his squad because it meant nothing to him. He doesn’t remember them.”
The implication of what lay ahead for Harley floored her. The man she loved with her whole heart still had to face one of his worst battles—the truth.
“Would that be Rick, Kent, Garth, Robbie and some guy named Snakes?” Raj asked. “Because he sure remembers them now. That’s who he was asking for when they brought him in. Them and the Knicks.”
“The Knicks?” Judy asked. “The NBA basketball team?”
Raj shrugged. “I guess.”
“You know what? That’s going to have to wait for another day,” Judy muttered. She just plain did not have time for one more secret. “Alex, go see Mark. He needs you.”
Obediently, Alex stepped away.
“Can you give me a minute?” she asked Raj.
“You bet. Let me know when.”
The moment he left, Judy laid her hand on Harley’s shoulder. “I’m here,” she whispered again, her lips against his cheek and her tough nurse persona falling apart. The day crashed around her. “I’m here, and you are going to be fine, and I don’t care what’s happened in the past, do you hear me? You’re going to marry me. We’re going to live happily ever after. I’ll help you through everything. We can do it, just....” She pressed her lips against his whiskered jaw, biting back the worst that could still happen. “Please stay. Don’t leave me. God, I love you.”
If he heard, he gave no sign. She composed herself, but Raj saw right through her when he peered around the curtain. She wasn’t head nurse right now. Judy gulped, not used to being a patient’s distraught companion. It reminded her too much of that other time when she was just a helpless bystander in the ER.
“Hey,” Raj said kindly. “Don’t take it so hard. We’ve seen lots worse. He’ll be fine.”
“I know. It’s just that....” Words failed because they plain got stuck in her throat. Tears she’d been denying fell like raindrops onto Harley’s bare arm. She wiped them away, but they kept coming.
“It’s different when it’s someone we love, huh?” Raj asked tenderly.
She bit her lip. It wasn’t just her man on the table. Connor was right. Opposites did attract. Harley brought spontaneity and joy into her severely controlled life. She might be the person who brought structure and practicality to his, but he put the moon and stars in her sky every single night. In his teasing, self-deprecating way, he always made her smile.
“How is Mark Houston?” She changed the subject.
“He’s lost a lot of blood, but he’ll be okay. His wife’s with him if you want to visit with her while I run Harley up to surgery.”
“They’ll close his other lacerations there?” Judy could not make move her fingers from Harley’s arm.
“You know they will. He’ll be fine. You’ll see. We’re looking out for the both of you. Catch your breath. Go visit with your friends.”
She nodded, swallowing past the lump in her throat. Yes, she respected Dr. Statler and she loved Raj. A girl from the Midwest could not ask for better friends and co-workers. If all went well, Harley should be in recovery within the hour. Her training resurfaced as she brushed her tears away. “Okay. You’re right.”
“Just so you’re prepared, the FBI’s in the building,” Raj warned. “When he’s out of recovery, he’ll be in their custody.”
“Damn it. Do you believe they think I’m his accomplice?”
Raj raised a dark eyebrow. “You?”
“Right. I’m really an undercover sniper when I’m not busting my ass in the ER. Didn’t you get the memo?”
“Sure had me fooled.” He loosened the wheel brake on Harley’s bed. “Don’t worry. I’ll call the minute he’s out of surgery. You’ll get him first.”
Raj roll Harley into the private corridor leading to the elevator up to the surgical floor. The FBI had a fight on their hands if they thought they were going to run roughshod over Judy. This was her kingdom, not theirs.
Seventeen
“Harley,” she whispered. “You’re in the hospital. Everything is going to be fine.”
Judy watched Harley’s vitals like a hawk. It was early Sunday morning. The sun had yet to show, but the FBI still prowled the halls. For now, she had him all to herself.
Once out of surgery, his oxygen saturation was excellent and his blood pressure had fallen back into the normal range. The knife barely nicked his lung. He’d feel some discomfort from the stitches more than anything else. His leg had been treated, his head too. Dr. Statler only used a general anesthetic due to Harley’s obvious head injury. He did not want to take the chance of causing another coma.
Harley huffed through his nostrils, a sign he might be close to waking up. Relief had replaced worry with bone-deep exhaustion. If he were at home, she’d be in that bed with him. Since they were alone, she took the liberty of giving him a sponge bath.
With a plastic basin of warm water, antiseptic soap and a washcloth, she began at his head, smoothing the damp cloth over his short, sandy-colored hair. The simple service of a sponge bath for a patient turned into anointing as she proceeded to cry all over his forehead. He breathed in short, shallow breaths while she kissed each feature—the top of his head, his eyebrows, the straight line of his perfect nose. That he’d never broken it struck her as odd considering all the things he’d lived through, but no. He had a handsome nose, which flared when she lifted the cannula to wipe the rest of his face.
“I love you.” She placed a soft kiss on those too serious looking lips. They pinched together for a second as if he’d felt her love pouring into him. Another kiss and she lingered, drawing the life she thought she’d lost back into her soul. Her tongue traced his bottom lip, tasting him as automatically as loving him.
A pang of guilt sneaked up on her. Poor Alex. He wasn’t breathing Kelsey’s breath this morning. He wasn’t kissing her lips. Judy wiped that thought away along with the tear that went with it. She could only handle one disaster at a time. Harley was hers. Alex would have to deal with his.
The scruff of a two-day beard graced Harley’s cheeks and chin, not his usual look, but handsome. She washed gently around his ears, and down his neck to his collarbone. Touching his skin brought instant calm. He was alive and for the most part in good condition. Many of the accident victims from the pile-up on the freeway fared much worse.
Any moment now he would flutter those thick eyelashes open, peer up at her, and everything would be okay. He’d wink and pour on his usual Texas twang. She’d climb in bed with him and together, they’d work through whatever problem came up.
Easing the damp cloth just inside the round collar of his hospital gown, she pledged a more thorough scrubbing when he was awake. A recovery room was not the proper place for the kind of attention she had in mind. This man needed to be loved, and this woman needed to do the loving.
Judy contented herself with washing his arms and hands next with deliberate strokes. He did not have heavily muscled arms like his friend, Mark. Harley ran marathons, and, as a dedicated runner, he was athletically lithe and lean.
Judy settled for one more swipe down his elbow to his wrist before she placed his limp arm beneath the blanket. His groan brought her attention back to his face. Those eyelashes fluttered. She smiled as his nose scrunched beneath the plastic cannula. He brushed his fingers over his brows. His blood pressure spiked on the monitor. His eyes blinked open. Harley was awake.
He gasped, rolling from side to side as a full-blown panic attack hit. She wasn’t quick enough. One minute he was flat to his back on the bed. The next he’d tossed the blankets aside and leaped over the bedrail, taking his heart monitor and IV lines to the floor with him.
“No, Harley. Stop—”
“Incoming!” He pulled her down with him, jerking the sensors and lines off his chest. “Get down, dumb ass!”
She joined him, but he couldn’t work his body beneath the hospital bed like he seemed determined to do. He cowered next to it instead, wheezing from the too quick exertion he’d put his injured body through.
“You’re in the hospital.” She knelt next to him with her hand firmly on his elbow. “Let’s get you back into—”
“Back off!” He scraped her fingers off his arm along with the IV line. “You seen my guys? You seen the CO?”
“Harley, it’s me. Don’t you—”
“No!” He roared, pushing her back to her butt. “Don’t you get it? I gotta find ’em, and you gotta keep down.”
His inte
nsity scorched her. Judy had never seen him as angry or as focused—or such a stranger. He didn’t seem to know her.
Raj’s face appeared at the door window. He turned on his heel and backed off.
“Who are we looking for?” Judy played along, hoping Raj hadn’t decided she could handle Harley on her own, that he’d gone to find Alex.
“My men. There’s six of ’em. No, five. No, wait.” Harley raised his fingers, becoming angrier as he counted off the names she’d only recently heard. “Rick. Kent. Carlton. Snakes. Robbie, and....” Starting over with his thumb extended, he shook his head, his breath coming in short hard bursts. “Rick. Kent. Carlton. Garth....” Another growl rumbled from deep in his gut, and Judy was scared. Who was this guy? The gentle man she knew was gone.
“Who are they? Do you know?”
She gulped, trying to be all he needed her to be. “Umm, Rick. Snakes. Carlton. Robbie. Kent. Garth.”
“Oh yeah. I think you might be right. But... But....” A shadow replaced the momentary calm. His face turned into a savage mask. “It don’t matter how many! We save ’em all. Never quit. Never fail. Never! You got that?”
“Yes, sir,” she acquiesced as quickly as she could. He needed to know she was on his side. Right now, he didn’t act like he knew any such thing.
“Who the hell are you, soldier?” Disgusted hazel eyes blinked over her without recognition.
She blurted the first thing that came to her mind. “Private O’Brien, sir.”
“Guess you’ll do.” The door cracked open and he ducked, his hand clamped on the top of her head, pushing her to the floor with him. “Get down!”
“Corporal Mortimer!”
Judy peeked over the edge of the mattress, thankful for the intervention. Poor Mark was white as a ghost, supported by wide-eyed Libby at his side. “Atten-shun!”
Harley gasped, his Adam’s apple bobbing like he couldn’t swallow. “What the f—?”
“On your feet, soldier!” Mark stiffened and marched into the room. “I gave you an order.”
“But....” Harley groaned, the fight gone out of him. He climbed to his feet. “But how... How’d you get here, sir? How’d you find me?”
Harley (In the Company of Snipers Book 4) Page 14
