Commander in Briefs

by Kristy Marie

  Tears blind me and I turn to Cade as I get myself under control. Strong. Be strong. Be brave, Anniston. I give Cade a small smile as Lou adjusts his aim to my chest. Cade’s eyes track the movement and when they meet mine I mouth, “I love you,” and then I force out the order no one would ever deny.

  “I am your Commander. I am ordering you, soldier, take your shot!”

  Hayes looks at me, panicked. He readjusts the grip on his rifle several times and presses it hard to his cheek.

  I give him the same tired smile and say calmly, “I love you, I love you all, now fire, Handsome.”

  A silent tear falls down his face as he moves his finger to the trigger. A click is the only sound in the barn, and it echoes like it’s in surround sound.

  I close my eyes. A pained roar carries through the barn as a loud boom deafens me. A shot is fired, and then another, an impact knocking me to the ground. I think of the guys, hoping that they will survive the aftermath of this clusterfuck. I pray that I had enough time with them, that the wounds they have are healed. I pray for Theo. I pray that he finds love and happiness, even if it isn’t with me.

  My heart aches as I lay in the dirt, pleading with God. Asking for forgiveness, begging for mercy for my boys.

  Seconds tick by and I never lose consciousness. I’m still alive. Shit. Did he hit a nonfatal spot? My endorphins must be kicking some major ass. The pain isn’t bad. Not like I thought it would be to take a bullet. Maybe I will have a cool scar like the guys, or maybe I am about to bleed out and die.

  Suddenly, a large form hits the ground next to me. Indigo eyes meet mine before they close.

  Theo.

  “Dammit, Theo! You fucking moron! If you don’t open your fucking eyes right now I swear I will tell Cade you bought your own rookie card off eBay for an obscene amount of money.”

  Apparently, the reason my gunshot wound didn’t hurt was because my dumb ass wasn’t shot. The impact was from Theo knocking me out of the way, taking the bullet for me.

  With bated breath, I watch his eyes flutter, then hear, “That’s a low blow, Ans.” He moans, cracking one eye open and tries to roll over to his side. I breathe out a sigh of relief and help him up to his feet.

  He stands on wobbly legs, and Lawson and I quickly support his weight with our shoulders and pull him from the chaos of the barn. Killer’s barking is wild as Cade tries to secure the scene behind us.

  “Are you hurt?” I ask.

  What the hell, Anniston? Of course, he’s hurt. He was shot for goodness’ sake.

  He shakes his head. “The vest caught it. Just sore.”

  “Okay. But I am taking a look at you when we get to the house.”

  He mumbles a quiet, “Okay.”

  Tim opens the door to the barn for us to make our way outside. Theo is stumbling but hopefully it’s the adrenaline wearing off and nothing dire.

  “Come on, Teddy. Almost there,” I encourage.

  His weight becomes too much as he starts to pitch forward. Lawson moves in front of him but Theo collapses to the ground before either of us can catch him.

  I drop to my knees and bark at Lawson to help me roll him over. His eyes are distant, his face pale. What the—he has to be injured somewhere.

  “Theo! Theo! Look at me, dammit! Do not fall asleep.”

  He mumbles and tries to focus his eyes. They roll back in his head, his breathing becoming more and more shallow.

  “Can’t… breathe… Ans.”

  He attempts to roll over, but I push him back down and look at Lawson. “Go to my office, get everything you can get your hands on. Take all the guys.”

  Lawson regards me for a minute, unsure if he should leave us.

  “Go!” I yell.

  This time, he sprints off without a backward glance.

  I snatch the Kevlar vest off and find… blood. Buckets of it. Oh shit. My heart sinks as I realize the bullet missed the vest, hitting Theo in the upper ribs where the Velcro should be secured. It’s not. The vest wasn’t on properly. Dammit!

  “Why didn’t you have the vest secured properly?” I’m yelling, asking stupid questions that aren’t really relevant to the situation, when he admits softly, “Tim knew I wouldn’t stay in the house, he left it on the bed for me.”

  I want to rage that Tim should have put it on him instead of leaving it on the bed. Theo has no idea how to put on a Kevlar vest properly! But I don’t because Tim was right in his assumption: Theo never does as he’s told and something was better than nothing.

  I pull at the seams of Theo’s shirt; the damn thing is triple stitched, making it hard to tear. After a desperate scream and adrenaline rushing my veins, I make a small rip, giving me a starting point to tear it the rest of the way. “Theo,” I choke. “I need to roll you over and see if the bullet went through.”

  I already know it didn’t but there’s no shame in hope. Theo doesn’t respond, his breathing is very shallow, giving me a sense of impending doom.

  “Keep breathing,” I encourage him while I roll his shoulder, confirming that the bullet is still lodged in his beautiful chest.

  Tears prick my eyes. I will not cry!

  Sniffling, I scream at Nicole to go find Cade and call an ambulance.

  “I’ll be fine,” Theo whispers painfully.

  His patronizing only pisses me off. “You’re damn right, you’ll be fine. Keep breathing!” My voice cracks. “You will not die on me! Do you fucking hear me?” There’s no holding back the fat tears running down my cheeks. “You will not die for me!” I sound like a lunatic screaming out demands.

  Theo twines his fingers with mine, interlacing our bloodied hands. “It’s Thursday. You can’t tell me what to do.”

  His terrible timing for a joke makes my throat squeeze closed. I can’t laugh, can only clutch his paling form as uncontrolled sobs wrack my body. This can’t be it for us. We don’t have enough memories. Don’t take him from me!

  I begin to rock, anything to soothe him and myself, bring comfort when there’s nothing but fear. Theo grunts, his hand tightening in mine.

  “Stay with me,” I beg.

  He squeezes my hand again. “I’m with you, Ans. Always.”

  My heart sputters at his confession, his voice stirring bits and pieces of broken memories. Visions of our first Christmas in our apartment. The puny tree we put up, decorated with the earrings left behind from all Theo’s one-night stands. Our first time at the fair, when his clown fear was revealed. The way he wakes in the morning, rumpled and sleepily, whining that it doesn’t rain enough. The way he tells me he loves me when he thinks I’m asleep.

  “Hurry up!” I shout into the open air.

  Cade comes running, his eyes jumping everywhere before finally landing on me. “The barn is secure. Lou is dead.”

  I look at him, defeated. “I need help.” A pained cry rips through my chapped lips. “Theo needs help.”

  Cade kneels next to me, his green eyes flickering over Theo’s limp body. He swallows thickly and very bluntly says, “Then help him, Dr. McCallister.”

  Later, I will realize that rude comment saved Theo’s life. I wipe off my tears, pull my shit together and act like the badass doctor I am.

  “We got the stuff,” Lawson shouts. All five of my boys run to me with their hampers full of medical supplies. My eyes well again with salty tears. You will not cry.

  “Anniston.” Cade shakes my arm, grabbing my attention. “What do we need to do?”

  I gaze into his confident eyes that tell me I can do anything. That these men, these heroes trust me to save Theo’s life. I can feel myself growing taller, more confident by the second. These men believe in me. I am surrounded by family. I can do this!

  “I need dressings. We need to stop the bleeding,” I say to all of them.

  “On it,” Hayes responds, dumping out his hamper.

  “Scissors. Someone cut off his shirt.”

  “Got it,” Vic replies. He starts to cut Theo’s shirt carefully. “Commander,�
�� he says with unease. “I think we need to hurry.”

  I look at Theo, who is gasping for air. “I need the intubation kit!” I scream.

  In med school, you are taught to remain calm but no one taught me how to do that when it’s Theo struggling to breathe. My hands are a shaking mess. My cerebral palsy only flares when stress is heavy. Right now, I am on the verge of a breakdown. I take a deep breath, forcing my lungs to expand. You can do this. Theo needs you.

  I tighten the muscles in my forearms, controlling them. The nerves jump but I have a better handle on the shaking by the time Cade tosses me the intubation kit. I crack it open, ripping off the protective plastic and move closer, nestling Theo’s head between my knees.

  I look at Hayes and Cade one more time for reassurance. “I need you to hold him down.”

  They nod, both pushing down on his shoulders without question.

  As calmly as I can, I whisper to the boy who holds my heart in his hands, “I’m going to put a tube down your throat to help you breathe. It’s going to feel weird and you’re going to want to pull it out, but I need you to resist the urge and relax. Okay?”

  His tired eyes relay his understanding. It’s getting harder for him to breathe. I need to do this quickly.

  Tilting his head back, I grab the tube and ease it into his mouth. He gags and tries to flinch away but we hold him tight. “Try to relax,” I repeat, continuing to use pressure to move the tube. This has to be done. I can’t sedate him, not in these conditions. He can handle this. He’s strong.

  I visualize his trachea, minding his vocal chords, as I thread the tube delicately through his airway. He begins to flail. Hayes and Cade grunt as they keep him restrained.

  “I know, I know. Think of something else. Think of something fun. Like, getting blow jobs.” Cade chuckles beside me as I remove the guide wire and scope after verifying proper placement of the breathing tube.

  Theo settles down a bit but strains to free his hands.

  “We need to keep this tube in for a little while,” I explain, taping the excess tubing to his cheek. He grunts and tries to talk before I shush him. “Don’t talk. It will only damage your vocal chords.”

  This factoid seems to stop his fighting more than anything else. He still flexes his arms and struggles against the guys. He’s never been one to like restraints.

  Releasing his head, I move back to his chest where the angry hole mocks me. Vic hands me some gauze before I have to ask.

  “Tim. Grab that bag there. Place it on the tube in Theo’s mouth and squeeze it in rhythm with your breaths.” Tim looks at me like he might upchuck his dinner, but he manages to push down his revulsion and gives me a curt nod before getting to work.

  I watch him for a second, making sure he is doing it properly. When I see Theo’s chest rise higher, I wink, and tell him to keep it up.

  I ask for some antiseptic next, which appears in my hand in seconds.

  “This is going to sting, baby,” I tell Theo, right as I douse his chest in the cold liquid.

  He bows off the ground, unnatural noises coming from his throat. A sharp pain hits me in the center of my chest, almost like his pain is becoming mine. In times like these, I wish I could have werewolf powers, where they take the pain from each other. I can’t stand that I am inflicting more pain when he is already enduring so much.

  The guys push Theo back down and tell him to hang in there. Even Cade.

  His chest wound is bubbling frothy liquid. Not a good sign. His lung is collapsing.

  “Keep bagging him, Tim.” I jump up, digging through the hampers of medical supplies.

  “What do you need, Commander?” I ignore Lawson and continue my search. Finally, I find a needle that will suffice for what needs to be done.

  I fall back by Theo’s side. “This is going to hurt, love,” I warn him with a sweet caress to his face.

  He groans and scrunches his eyes as a wave of pain courses through him.

  With two fingers, I feel along his ribs until I reach my intended mark.

  “Deep breath,” I tell him just as I stab the needle in between his ribs.

  He thrashes against his captors, moaning. Hayes turns his head, looking a little green. Only Cade holds my eyes, urging me to continue. I tape up the wound and the new chest tube at an efficient pace. He’s going to need a shit-ton of antibiotics after this, but he’s alive and right now, he’s stable. And that’s all that counts.

  “All done, baby,” I soothe. Moving to his head, I stroke his forehead and breathe with him. I start talking about random things, something Theo does when the silence becomes too much. “Six thousand, four hundred, and eighty. That’s how many strikeouts you have had in your professional career. Five thousand, eight hundred and eighty is how many innings I have watched you pitch.”

  Every game, whether on the bench or in front of the TV.

  I. Was. There.

  Cheering for him. Coaching him. Loving him.

  I begin weaving my hands through his thick waves, allowing the strands to slide between my fingers. I find comfort in the normality of the repetition.

  “Three thousand, seven hundred, and seventy-nine. That is how many days I have known I love you.” Sniffling, I bend down, place a salty kiss to the corner of his mouth. He tries to speak around the tube but I shush him sweetly. “Zero is the amount of days I am spending without you. We’re going to get through this. And when we do, I plan on kicking your ass as soon as you’re healed.”

  He grunts, attempting to laugh. It’s a pitiful sound and makes me squeeze his hand harder like that alone is going to keep him with me forever.

  Minutes pass then, finally, red and blue lights blaze down the gravel driveway, coming to our rescue.

  The medics take no time to strap Theo to a gurney. I stay beside him while the medics take over bagging him. Theo’s eyes are closed, making me even more nervous. I just want to get to the hospital as fast as humanly possible.

  I pile in behind the two medics, containing myself from barking orders. I am not the one in charge here. I did all I could but time seems to be moving like syrup when Theo puts it in the refrigerator. Tears sting my eyes as the memory of the syrup argument plays in my head. My thoughts are all messed up when I look at Cade standing outside the doors.

  “We’ll be right behind you.”

  A lone tear falls down my face, melting into my bloodied shirt. The medic slams the door, the impact startling me. My nerves are completely shot. Is this how the guys feel when they hear fireworks on the Fourth of July? If so, we are going to vacation every year in the Caribbean so they will be away from it all.

  “Go, go, go!” Someone taps on the side of the van, signaling we’re ready.

  The younger medic is at my side as the ambulance lurches forward. He begins inserting a line in Theo’s arm, quizzing me about any allergies, etc. I sound unsure in my answers, my mind racing through all the events that just transpired. I was prepared to die for my boys.

  Lou shot Theo.

  My hands begin to shake more now that the adrenaline is wearing off.

  “Are you a doctor?”

  I pull my eyes from Theo’s chest, locking onto the older gentleman who looks like he’s nearing retirement age. “Ye—” I clear my throat, pushing down the tears. “Yes, I’m his physician.”

  He nods, looking Theo over one more time like he’s trying to figure out who this celebrity is with his own private physician. “Did you intubate him?”

  I nod, more tears threatening to fall. My hands are shaking so bad, they remind me of that damn chihuahua Theo’s mom had when we were young. Before I can get it under control, Theo reaches for me, his big hand enveloping my small one.

  Sniffing, I squeeze it back. He mumbles something around his breathing tube. His hand is heavy as his strength wanes but he manages to brush against my knuckles, and I know he’s attempting to comfort me when he’s hanging on by a thread.

  “Don’t do that,” I sob. “Don’t comfort me.”
<
br />   He doesn’t try to speak again, he only rubs… until he doesn’t.

  The heart monitor pierces the silence. It takes me a second to realize what’s happening. His chest has stopped moving.

  “He’s coding! Get the paddles,” the medic behind me orders.

  “No!” I’m on my feet, squeezing his Ambu bag, giving his lungs the oxygen they need. The older medic is giving chest compressions while the other readies the paddles. When he asks us to step aside, I freeze. I know they need to get to him. I know this. It’s totally illogical that I, a doctor, would hesitate now, but this my Theo. This is my person. If he dies right here on this gurney, I want to be holding his hand. I want him to know I am here, that he isn’t alone.

  “Miss.”

  I level the young medic holding the paddles with a fierce look. “You bring him back.”

  He nods, pushing me out of his way. I go easily this time, taking a seat in one the chairs alongside the wall of the ambulance.

  “Clear!”

  I flinch at the sizzling noise as they hit him with the first shock. My hands go to my hair as he yells “clear” again.

  That’s not good. The more shocks it takes the less likely they’ll get him back.

  Oh, God.

  “I got a pulse!”

  Immediately, I’m on my feet, relief coursing through me. I lunge to Theo’s side, taking his cool hand in mine. One of the guys is radioing the hospital, we aren’t far now. The other continues to bag Theo.

  Pulling his hand to my cheek, I selfishly snuggle in, taking every ounce of comfort from the steady sound of beeps coming from the monitor attached to his chest.

  “Almost there, baby. You’re gonna be okay.” My voice is garbled by tears, but at this point, I don’t even try to be brave and control them. I’m sure these medics have seen worse.

  Minutes tick by and Theo doesn’t squeeze my hand again. I try not to let the fear get the better of me.

  “We’re here,” the medic whispers softly so as not to startle me. “We need to take him. This is as far as you can go.”