by KB Winters
“Well, they’re different than me.”
She didn’t argue, but she stood from her seat beside my bed. “You’re right, they are different. I have to go make my rounds. Call if you need anything, okay?”
“When can I get out of here?” I growled at her retreating form.
“Probably another twenty-four hours.”
I grunted my acknowledgment and she disappeared from the room, leaving me to stew in my self-loathing.
Chapter Five
“Aaron! Aaron! Help me!” Talia’s screams wailed through the space between our seats like an air raid alarm. “Aaron!”
I jerked my head to look at her and my stomach plummeted at the panic in her dark eyes. She clawed her hands up my arm, clinging for a handhold, but just as she latched on, the side of the plane hit the bluff and split open and she was sucked right from her seat, falling into the dark night.
Her screams echoed through my mind.
“Aaron!”
The voice changed. It sounded far away now. And…softer.
“Aaron.”
A bright light flashed and I jolted awake. My eyes squeezed closed until the light faded.
“What the fuck!”
“Sorry.”
It was Gemma.
I opened my eyes again, this time finding the room around me softly lit with only the light from the bedside lamp on the wall. “Where am I?”
The answer came back to me before Gemma could explain. My head throbbed and my body was slick with sweat. I hadn’t been able to shower since the crash and I’d never felt grimier in my life. And that included the months overseas in the desert.
“Are you okay? Your heart rate and blood pressure spiked and triggered the alarm on your monitor,” Gemma explained, her eyes studying the numbers on the screens for a moment longer, before dropping back to meet mine.
I sucked in a deep breath, willing things to stabilize. “I’m okay. I was dreaming. Well…nightmaring…to be more accurate.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I pinched my eyes closed. “Can I get some aspirin or something? My head’s killing me.”
“Yes. I can get you something.”
Gemma’s footsteps faded from the room and I got myself back under control in her brief absence. The dream had been so real and vivid. The only other time I’d had a dream that clear had been after I’d witnessed a street market bombing overseas. A suicide bomber had detonated his vest in the middle of a busy market. I hadn’t even been on the ground. I’d watched the whole thing from the feed a drone was providing over the site. But even then…it had stuck with me as though I’d been standing among the bodies and rubble. It had taken months to stop those terrors from coming for me at night.
“Here you go,” Gemma’s voice stirred me and I opened my eyes to find her holding out a couple of small, white pills. “It’s ibuprofen, they won’t interact with anything else you’re taking.”
I nodded my thanks and took them with the small paper cup of water she held out in her other hand.
“You want to talk about it?” Gemma asked, sitting beside me.
“Not really.”
She nodded and folded her hands in her lap. “What do you want to talk about?”
I sighed. “I have no idea. You got any cracking ideas?”
Gemma smiled. “I think I’ve pretty much been brain dead for the last two hours.”
“That’s comforting,” I said, an edge of teasing in my voice as I met her eyes.
She laughed softly. “It’s been a crazy day. Or, at least, crazier than most of the ones I’ve seen here.”
“Fair enough. I’ve got a question.”
“What’s that?” She tilted her head, waiting for me with a look of curiosity crossing her beautiful face.
“Do you fuckin’ live here in the hospital?” I asked.
She laughed softly. “Sometimes it feels like it. I’m actually off duty. I was using the gym.” At her comment, I looked over and realized that she wasn't wearing her scrubs with the white coat that she'd been wearing every other time she’d visited my room. Instead, she was wearing a pair of tight black shorts, a white tank top, and a black athletic jacket, with long sleeves held over her hands with loops on each thumb. Before I could stop myself, my eyes roved down her shapely thighs, and I wondered how the hell I’d missed the fact that she was practically half naked sitting beside me on the bed.
"Feeling better?" she asked, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she watched my wandering gaze slide back up her thighs.
"Much," I replied, feeling more myself since the crash.
"You know, I'm not sure that ogling my legs is really an official therapy, but hey, whatever works.”
I laughed, her joke in stark contrast to all the other interaction we've had so far. Gemma had always been polite, and very attentive, but I hadn't picked up on the lighter side of her personality up until that point. And definitely not any flirtation. Unlike several of the other nurses, who had paraded in and out of my room like it had a revolving door. There were two nurses in particular who’d made it their point to check on me—at least during my waking hours—every half an hour. They always came in as a pair, and judging by some of their comments, I'd come to the conclusion that they did other things in a pair as well—and that was fine by me.
"Well, thanks for bringing them by,” I replied, holding her gaze, wondering when she’d break away. She didn’t. “Speaking of, what are you doing still hanging around if you’re off duty? You just had to see me one more time before leaving for the night, huh?"
Gemma rolled her eyes. "A decision I'm starting to regret."
“Now, now. That's cold, baby," I tossed back, grinning wider. "In all seriousness though, I appreciate you taking such good care of me."
Gemma nodded, and I waited, expecting her to call our time to a close. "Actually, there was something I wanted to tell you.”
“Shoot.”
“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for before."
My eyebrows raised, not understanding what she was talking about. I’d only seen her once that morning, when we’d shared the coffee. After that, the other nurses had been the ones to check in on me.
"For what I said about you flying again. I shouldn't have pushed you so hard.” She dropped her eyes to stare at her hands, twisting a silver ring on her middle finger. “Everyone processes traumatic events at their own pace and it's not my place to force my opinions on you like some kind of therapist. I was out of line and I want you to know I'm sorry. You've gone through something I can't even imagine and instead of letting you work through it, I tried to shove you ahead.”
Her words left me dumbfounded. I was so used to people subjecting their opinions on me—and immediately disregarding them—that what Gemma had said hadn’t even phased me. It had obviously weighed on her a lot heavier than it had on me.
I shrugged. "Don't worry about it. You were just trying to help."
"Thank you."
"And, hey, for what it's worth, I hope you're right. Flying has always been my life, my therapy, and I'm not sure what I would do without it. Before all of this, giving up flying, wasn’t something I would've even considered. I always imagined I'd be this kick ass, ninety-nine-year-old clinging to my pilot's license with everything I had," I said, smiling up at her.
Gemma's eyes sparkled as she laughed at my colorful depiction, the gray lifting like fog. "Well I hope you will. I’d like to learn to fly and it seems you’d be a hell of a teacher."
I gave a hollow laugh. All things considered, I wasn’t sure if that was the case.
“Like I was telling you this morning, I used to be a nurse with the Army. I did a lot of in-flight stuff, and sometimes, I wondered if I’d missed my real calling. There was something about being a pilot that…I don’t know…it kinda spoke to me.”
“Not enough excitement in the back, huh?” I’d never personally flown a medical chopper, but I’d heard enough horror stories from a few guys who had, to
know I hadn’t missed out on anything I wanted to be a part of. Between going into the worst of the worst to retrieve injured soldiers, there was also a heightened amount of stress to not only get out safely—but do it as fast as humanly possible or else you’d be flying a hearse instead of an ambulance.
There was pressure, and then there was just insanity.
I’d never been much for choppers anyways. Jets were my passion. Old, new, rusty, whatever. I loved them all the same.
“Plenty of excitement. Sometimes—most of the time—more than I really wanted. But, I loved it. I was never the type of girl to sit behind a desk.”
“I can see that,” I said, letting my eyes wander towards the hospital corridor outside my room. “Why haven’t you taken lessons? If you’re seriously interested?”
She shrugged. “I haven’t had the time. I got out of the Army, took a position as a triage nurse in Chicago, and after a year of that, got the offer to come out here.”
“Got it.” I nodded, processing what I’d learned about Gemma so far. She had so many layers it was hard to know where I wanted to start unwrapping. She was a beautiful woman, no doubt about it, but there was something else that had me hooked. A depth and history that intrigued me. "So, I know you worked your ass off with the Army, you’re a crackerjack doctor, and you obviously put in your time in the gym," I paused, a flicker of amusement at her subtle blush. "But what else? What else does Dr. Gemma like to do?"
"Well technically, I'm not a doctor, but that aside, I’m not sure yet."
"You're not sure you know what you like to do?" I raised an eyebrow at her.
"No, no. Not necessarily. I just mean that I'm new in town and I'm still figuring out my routine. I just moved here from Chicago about a month ago so I don't really know anybody. I haven’t even finished unpacking. All the stuff from my apartment in Chicago is still boxed up, and I kinda open boxes as I need stuff. It’s a little pathetic.”
“That’s not pathetic. Unpacking is the worst.”
“It really, really is!” She giggled. “Anyways, I've been spending what little free time I do have, soaking up the sun and the sand. After all, that was the big draw that got me here in the first place."
"A beach bunny in the making," I said with a grin.
"Something like that."
"Well, I'll be out of here soon enough, and I make one hell of a tour guide." I waggled my eyebrows at her, smiling even broader when she burst into her melodic laugh. "What? That's not a convincing enough offer?"
"It is," she hurried to reply, still giggling. "I was just picturing you in one of those safari getups, you know the khaki shorts and the broad brimmed hat to match. Like the guy from Curious George."
"Shit, that's even colder, baby."
Gemma’s giggle faded, but the amusements still glimmered in her eyes. "You're right. Just for that, I’ll agree to go on your grand tour."
"I don't know if I want to take you anymore," I said with mock disapproval.
Gemma punched me lightly on the shoulder and I cradled the spot as though she’d dealt a mortal wound. "Hitting your patients? I think I'm going to need to speak to your supervisor, young lady."
Gemma ignored my protest. "I have tomorrow off, but I'll make sure they take good care of you when you're discharged." She stood and started towards the door of my room. My eyes followed after her, taking in the way her shorts clung to her subtle curves with each purposeful stride.
“Stop staring at my ass, Rosen,” she called over her shoulder, not looking back.
I chuckled and lay back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling tiles. This is gonna be fun.
Chapter Six
“You ready to rock and roll?” Jack asked, the following afternoon, once all the red tape had been cut in order to get me out of the hospital. He braced his hands on the handles of the wheelchair I’d been forced to use.
“Yep. Let’s blow this popsicle stand,” I replied dryly.
Holly and Carly came around the corner and they both broke into wide smiles at the sight of me out of bed and dressed in street clothes that Jack had brought from my house. “Looking good, Rosen,” Carly said.
“You too, gorgeous.”
Holly laughed. “I don’t know why you two can’t be a couple. You’d be absolutely adorable together.”
Jack chuckled and started pushing me forward. “Don’t bother, Holly. Carly’s too smart to fall for Player’s tricks.”
“It’s true,” Carly replied. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to my cheek as Jack rolled me past. “I am glad to see you back to your old self. I’ll see you at the cafe, soon, okay?”
“You got it, gorgeous,” I agreed, although it was hard to think ahead to when I’d be back to my old self. It was odd to get dressed in normal clothes. A nurse had been there to assist me—happily, I might add—but once she’d left the small bathroom, I’d looked in the mirror and almost didn’t recognize myself. My normal scruff had grown out into the beginnings of a full beard, my eyes had dark circles under them from the fitful sleep I’d been getting since my arrival, and there was a spooky hollowness to my expression that hadn’t been there before.
I wanted to blame it on the lack of sleep, but I knew it was a deeper problem. A few days with a bottle of sleeping pills, a comfortable bed, and black out shades wasn’t going to fix it.
Unfortunately.
Boomer and Holly got me into the backseat of their rental car and we took off, down the highway from the hospital to Holiday Cove. The hospital serviced three nearby cities and was in the middle of all three of them, right off the 101. As we got closer to Holiday Cove, I looked out the window, knowing we were nearing the crash site.
“Aaron, you might—”
“I know,” I said, interrupting Jack’s warning. “I need to see it.”
A few seconds later, it came into view. “Fuck, man.”
“Yeah. You’re lucky to be alive.” Holly said, as we gawked at the crash site. I know she didn’t mean anything, but I couldn’t help but think about Talia. She wasn’t so lucky.
The area was taped off with a yellow police tape, and I was surprised to see the area was still secured with police cars and some important-looking men in suits.
“Are those the FAA agents?” I asked, not tearing my eyes off the wreckage. The nose of the plane was what had impacted the beach, and despite the sand, the crash had been too fast, too sudden, and the damage was evident. The windshield was shattered, all the glass blown out. The side was twisted and mangled—torn apart like a tin can and it looked like there were charred pieces of metal lying amongst the broken plane. Had there been a fire? I couldn’t remember it, but I’d blacked out before the paramedics had even arrived.
I shuddered at the thought that a fire could have been erupting around the plane with Talia and I still inside of it. I couldn’t imagine what would have happened if the rescue crew hadn’t arrived when they did. I’d seen burn victims before, and knew that in many cases, survival was almost worse than death. The sheer pain of treatment was enough to make it damn near impossible to get through it.
From the highway, I couldn’t see any blood, but I knew from my fleeting memories, that the inside must be coated in it. From both Talia and me.
“Do you want to go look?”
I shook my head. “Nope. I’m okay. I just want to get home.”
Boomer cleared his throat and pushed the gas a little harder as we started up the hill to the bluff overlooking Holiday Cove.
Jack and Holly helped me get inside my house and showed me how they’d rearranged the furniture in my living room to accommodate my bed. That way, I didn’t have to worry about going up the stairs. My stitches and incision were still painful and it didn’t take much to get me winded and exhausted. Going up and down the stairs multiple times a day wasn’t an option. At least not now.
“Thanks you guys, this looks great.”
“There’s a bunch of food in the fridge, too,” Jack said, crossing to the small kitchen. He
threw open the fridge to prove his point and I peeked over his shoulder at the stack of casserole dishes and full Tupperware containers. “Holly cooked up a bunch of stuff and then Carly sent some stuff too.”
“Thanks Holls,” I said, turning around to look at her. Jack had sure found a good woman. I wasn’t the type to settle down, but Jack was, and he’d found the perfect woman for him when he’d met Holly. Lucky bastard.
A flare of pain radiated through my side and I moved to sit on the edge of the bed in the living room. I grunted as I maneuvered to get comfortable and Holly rushed over to help, moving pillows and blankets out of my way, until I stilled and exhaled deeply. “How long until you guys have to go back?” It was the question I’d dreaded asking for two days. I’d missed Boomer more than I’d been willing to admit, and seeing him again had brought those feelings back up to the surface again. The idea of him flying back to Germany and not coming home again for another year was more than I could take. Especially with everything around me going to shit.
Jack cut a glance at Holly. “In a couple of days. I have to get back to work, and we need to get back to Princess and Hunter. They’re at a kennel right now, but we don’t want to leave them locked up for too much longer.”
I nodded. “I understand. I’m surprised you were able to leave in the first place. I mean, we’re not technically family…”
Jack laughed. “Well, you’d be surprised what you can get away with once you become a national hero.”
Holly rolled her eyes, but I could tell from the glow in her cheeks that she was proud of her man. I laughed along with him. “I’ll bet.”
“So, any requests before we go?” Jack asked, coming to take a seat on the couch they’d relocated to the far wall, wedged between the coffee table and love seat.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I probably should get back over to the museum sooner or later.”
Jack and Holly exchanged a dark look.
“What?” I snapped. They both offered me blank looks. “What’s going on?”
Jack sighed. “There’s some issues over at the museum.”
“Issues?” My body stiffened. “What kind of issues?”
