“I’m going to pick up some coffee from the cafeteria. Want some?”
“Sounds good.”
“I won’t be long,” he said, heading out of the room.
“I’m not going anywhere.” She reached between the bed rails and squeezed Lincoln’s hand. He was still too sedated to respond.
Someone knocked at the door.
“Forget something?” She turned. “Oh! Damien.”
“I came as soon as I heard. I was tagging along with some of the sentinels on patrol.” He walked into the room and stood at the foot of the bed. “How is he?”
“Physically fine.” His mental state had her worried. What if the episode had triggered some sort of psychosis and he couldn’t find his way back to the real world?
“I guess you really are his guardian angel.”
“What do you mean?”
“The picture of you he carries in his pocket. It goes everywhere he goes. He told us that you were his guardian angel and as long as you were with him, everything would be all right.”
“What picture?”
“It’s an old faded photo. I think you were sitting in a café because you were holding a large foam coffee cup and there’s a pastry on the plate in front of you.”
“It couldn’t be me. I didn’t know Lincoln before he came to Walker’s Run.”
“Oh, it’s you.” Damien tucked his hands into his pockets. “If the team was here, they’d all agree.”
“Your Dogman team?”
“Yep. In fact, a couple of times when we were pinned down by hostile fire, the lieutenant would ask Cap if his angel was still in his pocket.” Damien laughed. “We did all kinds of crazy shit. Sometimes one of us caught a bullet or two, or some shrapnel, but nothing too serious. Until—” he shrugged “—the explosion.”
It didn’t make sense. “Where would Lincoln get an old picture of me?”
“Off a dead guy is what I heard.”
Angeline’s heart froze, but her stomach churned nauseous waves. The man couldn’t have been Tanner. What were the odds?
Why hadn’t Lincoln told her? About the picture? About the man?
“How long is he going to be out?” Damien tapped the bottom of Lincoln’s foot.
Lincoln showed no sign of waking up.
“He’ll probably sleep through the night.” At least, that was what Doc had said.
“I’m going to meet up with some of the sentinels for dinner. I’ll check on him later.”
Damien nodded his goodbye and Angeline was glad for him to leave. She’d always felt a sense of unease around him and he hadn’t earned any brownie points with his revelation.
Quietly, she closed the door and then searched through Lincoln’s things. She found no photo in his pants’ pockets or duffel bag, so she opened his wallet. Three photos were stuffed in the card slots.
One was of an adorable little boy with a short crop of Afro-textured hair. His face radiated with pure joy as Lincoln, kneeling on one knee, gave him a tight hug. One of the sweetest things Angeline had ever seen, the tender moment tugged at her heart.
Dogmen did not claim mates while in the Program, so the child obviously could not be Lincoln’s biological son. But even in the photo, Angeline could see the two were bonded. It must’ve broken Lincoln’s heart to have left him behind. It broke hers just thinking about it.
The second photo was a group picture of Lincoln and five others standing in front of a tank. All were dressed in camouflage pants and T-shirts, wearing mirrored sunglasses, bulletproof vests and holding assault rifles. His team. As in the photo with the boy, Angeline could see the bond between the soldiers.
She didn’t see Damien in the group, but Lincoln stood next to a woman with his arm casually draped across her shoulder. Lila?
More petite and not at all how Angeline had pictured her, the woman had to be Lila. Lincoln had mentioned she had been his best friend. And according to Zach, she had been the one Lincoln had called out for several times during his traumatic flashback.
Jealousy nipped at Angeline’s heart but she ignored the feeling in favor of the empathy she had for Lincoln losing two important people in his life.
Removing the third photo, Angeline dropped the wallet. Her hand flew to her mouth to silence the gasps.
Tanner had taken the snapshot on their first date at the café on campus.
Tears stung her eyes. She’d assumed when Tanner had left her for the Program that he’d gotten rid of any reminders of her and the time they’d spent together. But if Damien was right and Lincoln had taken the photo from a dead man, then he must’ve been with Tanner when he died.
Heart hurting, she walked to Lincoln’s bedside. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Whatever his reason to hide the truth, when he woke up, Angeline expected answers.
Chapter 23
Suddenly awake, Lincoln tried to get a bearing on his surroundings. The smell of antiseptic lingered in the air. A droning beep behind him and to the right sounded at regular intervals. He lay in some sort of bed, covered in a white sheet. Window blinds were closed but a soft light lit the room.
He tried to sit up, but something held him down. “What the hell?”
“Glad to see you’re awake.” A voice drifted from the dark corner.
“Brice? What’s going on?” Lincoln forcibly blinked to sharpen his vision.
Brice stepped forward. “How are you feeling?”
A bit panicked at the moment. “Why am I tied down? What’s going on?”
“Easy. You were combative when they brought you in.” Brice placed a calming hand on Lincoln’s shoulder. “Do you remember what happened yesterday?”
“Yesterday is relative.” Lincoln tried to force the fog from his brain. “What day is today?”
“Friday.” Brice worked his way around the bed, unfastening the restraints.
“I remember leaving the hospital with Angeline after Tristan’s baby was born. Oh, God. Did we get into an accident?” Lincoln’s stomach clenched and he struggled to sit up. “Where’s Angeline?”
“She’s fine. Cassie took her to the cafeteria.”
“What happened? Why am I here?”
“Doc thinks you suffered a traumatic flashback. Do you remember being at the resort with Zach yesterday?”
Lincoln concentrated on mentally retracing his steps, but nothing came into focus. “I’m blank after Angeline and I left here. How did this happen?”
“A car with a modified muffler backfired as you and Zach were leaving the resort. Zach said you stopped talking in the middle of a sentence and had a faraway look. When he touched you, suddenly you began yelling for someone name Lila. The sentinels had to subdue you.”
Lincoln’s gut fisted. “Did I hurt anyone?”
“A broken nose and some cracked ribs, but the guys are not too sore about it. They can claim bragging rights with those injuries.”
The sentinels might not be too upset, but the news thoroughly horrified Lincoln. “I must’ve been acting out my nightmare and didn’t see them as a threat.”
“Has this ever happened?”
“I have nightmares most nights, but never acted on one while awake.” A flashback like that could screw up everything. “Yesterday, I got the call from my CO. They want me back at HQ and are putting me on a flight from Atlanta Saturday evening.
“They found Dayax in a rebel camp. He’s being held with about a dozen other kids, and he isn’t the only wolfling the insurgents grabbed. HQ wants me to go in with ground forces for hostage extraction. If they find out about this flashback, they could scrap me from the mission.”
“Doc wants a psychologist to see you. If she says you’re okay, then our lips are sealed. But if she thinks you’re unstable, there’s no way I’m letting you board a plane to HQ alone.”
“I’m no
t unstable.” Lincoln felt fine, except for his dislike of hospitals and the worry beading in his gut because he hadn’t had time to tell Angeline that he had to leave. “If it makes you feel better, I’m sure Damien wouldn’t mind flying back with me.”
“About Damien.” The grim line of Brice’s mouth made an unhappy curl downward.
“Has the pup done something wrong?” Young Dogmen were often brash, egotistical and a little bullish at times.
“Did he mention to you that he suffered a traumatic brain injury in the explosion in Somalia?”
“He mentioned smacking his head but didn’t say anything to me about a brain injury. How bad is it?”
“I don’t know the specifics, but my understanding is that his neuropsychological evaluation revealed some significant concerns. He was suspended from active duty, pending further evaluation.”
Damien had told Lincoln that after his med leave expired, he would be deployed with a new team. But he hadn’t mentioned how long that leave would be. “When is his next eval?”
“There isn’t one.” Brice’s gaze seemed to inspect every inch of Lincoln’s face and Lincoln wondered if Brice was looking for signs of instability in him. “Damien suffered a violent breakdown when HQ advised him of the medical suspension from active duty. Once he stabilized, he was discharged from the Program.”
Lincoln sucked in his breath as if he’d been punched in the gut. Dogmen lived and breathed the Program. Getting tossed out was a fate worse than death.
He’d gone through significant denial and anger upon learning of his own medical discharge. But Lincoln had found Angeline. No longer resentful, he looked forward to his discharge and starting a new life.
“Damien hasn’t mentioned any of this to me. How long have you known?”
“Councilman Bartolomew called this morning. He’d heard that two Dogmen were here and wanted to confirm that Damien had come here to see you.
“He also knew Dayax had been found. Before the Woelfesenat started the paperwork to get the wolfling out of Somalia, he wanted to know if Walker’s Run would accept a refugee into the pack, even if something happened to you on the mission.”
Lincoln’s heartbeat paused and he didn’t dare to breathe.
“Of course we will. We would never turn away a child.” Brice offered a small smile. “My best friend was an orphan from another pack and he’s become an invaluable member of Walker’s Run. I’m sure Dayax will, too.”
The air in Lincoln’s lungs rushed out. “I plan to be on that return plane with him.”
“I have no doubt about that.” Brice’s grim expression returned. “What concerns me is Damien.”
“You thought I knew?”
Brice nodded. “It would almost be better if you did, although I would’ve been disappointed that you kept the information from me.”
“I only keep secrets that I’m required to by the Program. That would not have been one of them.” Except he hadn’t told Angeline of his plans.
Tonight, he would, although it would be a watered-down version because he did not want to cause her unnecessary worry.
“Good to know.” Some of the strain in Brice’s expression eased. “Is Damien wanting to settle in Walker’s Run?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. He showed up, said he had nowhere to go and wanted to stay with me until his deployment.”
“It’s my understanding that Damien needs ongoing treatment. If he wants to remain in Walker’s Run, he’ll be required to be compliant with the Program’s recommendations. Neither my father nor I will put the pack or our human neighbors at risk.”
“I’ll talk to him.” Lincoln didn’t want anyone to get hurt, either.
“I trust that you will.” Brice’s demeanor became less formal and his expression turned friendly.
Lincoln had seen the same transformation in Romania when Brice had switched modes between a hard-hitting negotiator dealing with hostile, warring Alphas and an easygoing nightly campfire companion telling Lincoln stories of Walker’s Run. Stories that had made his heart ache for a home and family of his own.
“I noticed that you and Angeline have become quite close. Does she know of your plans to return to Somalia?”
“I told her that I have some things to wrap up before my retirement is finalized.”
Bound by a mate-bond, he had faith she would understand. Once Lincoln returned with Dayax, he would claim Angeline as his mate and they would become the family he’d always wanted.
A simple plan, really. What could go wrong?
* * *
Lifting a cup of fresh coffee to her lips, Angeline inhaled the robust aroma and forced herself to relax as the rich, bold flavor laced with hazelnut slid down her throat. She glanced at the digital clock on the wall behind the registration desk in the waiting room.
Ten forty-five.
Great! She’d been waiting an entire fifteen minutes. The psychologist said she’d be with Lincoln for at least an hour.
Between having breakfast with Cassie in the cafeteria and the nurse kicking her out of the room for Lincoln’s psych consult, Angeline had barely had five minutes alone with Lincoln since he’d woken up this morning. Maybe it was for the best. The hospital wasn’t the place for the conversation they needed to have.
Reaching for her purse, Angeline fumbled through the contents for her phone then dialed Miriam’s number.
“Good morning, dear,” her aunt answered on the first ring. “How’s Lincoln?”
“Awake and alert.” Angeline slouched in the chair. “He’s with a specialist now. If all goes well, Lincoln will come home today.”
“A specialist? That sounds serious.”
“Just a precaution.” At least, that was how Doc had explained it.
“And how are you?”
“Better now that Lincoln is awake.”
“If you need tonight off, I’ll call Ginger to come in.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Angeline said. “She covered for me when I left early on Valentine’s Day. I’m not going to ask her to give up another Friday night.” If Lincoln came home, he’d need to rest. If he didn’t, Angeline would need to keep herself busy.
“Jimmy and I don’t need to be at the restaurant for a while. Do you want us to come to the hospital and wait with you?”
“No.” She glared at the clock’s red LED display, announcing the time as ten fifty. When had a morning ever passed more slowly? “How’s Zach?”
“He’s fine. A little shaken to have had a front-row view of a Dogman’s meltdown.”
“Lincoln didn’t have a meltdown,” Angeline said defensively. “He suffered a traumatic flashback and relived the most horrific moment of his life. He didn’t lose just his leg in the explosion, he also lost his best friend.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you, dear.”
“I know. I’m just edgy.”
“Everything will work out.” Always positive, Miriam truly believed her mantra.
Life had taught Angeline that although everything eventually did work itself out, it wasn’t always the way she expected.
“I’ll see you at Taylor’s later.”
After her aunt said goodbye, Angeline pulled up Solitaire on her phone. Though not particularly challenging, the card game allowed her mind to vegetate rather than race.
When the nurse called her name, more than an hour had passed.
“Yes?” Angeline put away the phone.
“Lincoln is asking for you.” Carmen smiled pleasantly.
“Thanks.” Angeline tossed her empty coffee cup into the nearest garbage can.
“I bet it’s exciting,” Carmen said, grinning. “Dating a Dogman.”
“To me, he’s just Lincoln.” Angeline had once imagined Dogmen as narcissistic, coldhearted bastards but being with Lincoln had helped her see past her own prejudic
e.
“Aww.” Carmen laid her hand over her heart. “That is so sweet.”
“I’m gonna go check on him.” Angeline collected her jacket and purse then walked down the corridor to Lincoln’s room.
The door was partially closed, so she knocked before easing into the room.
“Hey, Angel.” Lincoln’s smile warmed her inside and out. “Come to break me out of this place?”
“That depends on whether or not you’ve been cleared for discharge,” she said, watching him put on his prosthetic leg.
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” He winked. “Mind handing me my pants?”
Angeline doubted he would be in a playful mood if the doctors had wanted to keep him longer for observation.
She retrieved his clothes from the small corner closet and laid them on the bed. “Mind telling me what the psychologist said?”
Lincoln put on his jeans. “I’m okay, but she wants me to get counseling to help me cope with what happened.”
“Do you plan to follow through?”
Lincoln shoved his arms down the sleeves of a black sweatshirt, poked his head through the neck and tugged it down over his scarred, muscular chest. “I agreed to a few sessions because I don’t want to snap and hurt you or anyone else.”
Angeline’s heart melted. She hadn’t expected him to admit that counseling might be beneficial. Her father and brothers would’ve flat out refused.
Lincoln closed the distance between them, then drew her into his arms and held her snugly against his chest. Although warm and safe in his embrace, she sensed a cold chasm emerging between them. One she hoped to close once she learned the meaning of the photo.
After the nurse brought by the discharge papers, Lincoln held Angeline’s hand as they left the hospital.
He seemed his regular self, yet Angeline knew he was keeping secrets.
A Dogman and their missions were often top secret. Those secrets, she wouldn’t demand to know. But the one concerning her...absolutely.
Tamed by the She-Wolf Page 20
