SWORN TO PROTECT: An Everyday Heroes World Novel

by Readnour, Kimberly

  I hear the sound of a pull tab, and something is shoved into my hand.

  “Here. Drink this.”

  I pull my gaze away from the sky and direct it to the man standing next to me and to the soda pop he’s given me. Did he drag this from his bag?

  “I don’t drink soda.” Of all the words in the dictionary, why I choose this combination, I have no idea. The last thing I’m worried about is calories and sugar intake.

  “Drink the damn soda, Mackenzie. You need sugar.”

  Knowing Nate’s right and I’m probably going into shock, I concede and take a large gulp of the warm sugary liquid. I want to gag. But to appease him, I take a few more sips.

  That’s when I notice Jordan picking up the dirtbike. Fury overcomes the weakness I felt moments ago. I march over to him and slap him across the face. He barely has time to recover before I unleash the crazed bitch.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Nate

  The cat’s out of the bag.

  I shove my hands through my hair, busying myself to keep from bursting through the metal doors that lead to the patient bays. Back to where Mackenzie and Liam are. I feel helpless and useless. I never realized how bad it sucks being on this side of the emergency—not knowing the extent of Liam’s injuries and the inability to contribute. The combination is maddening. But not being with Mackenzie cuts me the worst.

  No one should face this alone.

  I take in the light mocha-colored walls. No doubt they chose the soft tone for a calming effect. Newsflash. It doesn’t help. I shift my gaze to the fancy tiled floor that compliments the fabric-covered cushioned chairs—the entire room coordinates. I bite back a sigh. Every piece of furniture, the soothing hue, is a stark contrast to the makeshift hospitals I’ve spent working for the last ten years.

  Quietness ate up the cab of my truck the entire drive after I peeled Mackenzie off her brother. To my surprise, he didn’t strike back. She didn’t even question me about my profession. Not one word. I’m not sure if I should be relieved or petrified.

  Another thirty minutes tick by, and Mackenzie finally walks through those doors. I stand.

  “Hey,” she says. Her eyes laden with exhaustion, defeat heavy in her tone.

  “How’s Liam doing?”

  “Stabilized. They came and did X-rays of his leg.” She shakes her head. “That was traumatic in itself. The technician asked him to twist his ankle to the right more. Can you believe that? The bones aren’t even connected. How the hell is he supposed to move it? I had to yell at them that he was in too much pain.”

  I bristle. It’s important to get the right angles to assist the surgeon, but common sense has to come into play. “Are they doing a scan of his spleen?”

  “Yes, they’re taking him now. They’ll come and get us when they send him to the pre-op holding room.” Her lower lip quivers, causing a pang in the pit of my stomach. God, I wish I could take the pain away. I pull her tight against me and feel the moment she caves to the bravado holding her together. Her body sinks into mine. I continue to hold her as her pent-up tension releases for the first time since unloading on her brother. The selfish prick. He may have more rights to be here than me, but I’m glad she forbade him to come. I don’t know if I could’ve kept from strangling the bastard. If it weren’t for focusing my attention on Liam, I would’ve pummeled him in the field. It seems having these kids around has kept me from getting into a lot of fights lately.

  Her body stops quivering as her sobs lessen. “Why don’t we sit down?”

  When she nods, I guide her to the seat. I want to explain how I’m a surgeon. Why I’m here. Why I’ve been deceiving her this entire time. But now isn’t the time. Mackenzie needs my help more than ever. I can’t risk her pushing me away. Am I a coward for thinking this? More than likely, but she needs help. Liam will be in a leg cast for weeks. His soccer days have ended abruptly, but the recovery will be a long haul.

  My entire purpose for being here revolves around consoling her and the kids. People I care deeply about. I’m putting them at risk now. The timing for the truth will present itself, and then I’ll come clean.

  The doors open, and two physicians dressed in blue scrubs walk over to us.

  “Ms. Gillman, the scans don’t show any active internal bleeding. My recommendation would be to wait and watch for any signs of change. The bruising on the spleen should heal on its own after a few weeks.”

  “That’s a relief,” Mackenzie sighs, but she still holds so much worry.

  “They’re bringing him to the surgical floor now. If you follow me, I’ll take you to him,” the other doctor says. I assume he’s the orthopedic surgeon. They must have talked to Mackenzie earlier since she seems to be familiar with them. “You’ll be able to see him right before he goes back to surgery.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re fortunate your boyfriend is a surgeon. His assessment and quick skills helped save his leg,” the general physician says.

  “Thanks.” I stiffen but don’t correct him on the boyfriend title. That isn’t what freaks me out. Him calling me a surgeon in front of her does. Why is that?

  Probably because I’ve been lying.

  There’s a special place in hell for me.

  Mackenzie’s gaze meets mine, loaded with so many unspoken questions. I half expect her to unleash on me and demand to know why I’ve held back. But she remains quiet while we follow the orthopedic surgeon to the preoperative holding room.

  I should feel right at home. The drip of the IV line. The beep from the pulse oximeter. It’s a familiar old worn-out tune. But this song takes on a different meaning when it’s associated with someone you love.

  “Hey, buddy.”

  Liam’s weak wave is bogged down by grogginess, the pain medication taking full effect.

  “They’ll fix you up before too long, okay?” Mackenzie kisses him on the forehead. Her bottom lip quivers and I can tell she’s barely hanging on. Liam gives her a sleepy nod.

  It isn’t long before the nurse wheels him back, and we’re sitting in the surgical waiting room.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were a surgeon?” The monotone pitch to her question throws me off. The tone isn’t accusatory, but it’s not hostile either. It’s just a simple question, as if asking about the day’s weather.

  Her phone rings, buying me some time. But I don’t know what I’m going to say to get out of this. How can I work around the one secret I need to keep?

  “Yes, they just took him back.” Mackenzie gives me a weary smile and mouths, “Mom.”

  I settle in my chair and wait until the end of the conversation.

  She gets off the phone with her mom and sighs.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, she picked up Nick from school.” She leans the back of her head against the wall. “She wants to come here, but I don’t want him staying with Jordan. Stan may be doing better, but he’s in no condition to watch a five-year-old.”

  “I can go get him, but I hate leaving you by yourself.”

  “You don’t mind? He may have some homework, but it’s not much.”

  “No, I don’t mind. I can wait until after the surgery, though.”

  “As much as I hate being alone, I am worried about Nick.”

  “There you are,” someone says as they enter the waiting room.

  I turn toward the voice to see Jill run over to Mackenzie and hug her, and that’s my cue to leave. I hold Mackenzie’s stare over Jill’s shoulder. Her eyes hold so many questions, yet there’s also regret. I’d like to think she’s regretting the fact I have to leave.

  She and Jill exchange a few words as I stand. She breaks away from her friend.

  “Thanks again for everything, Nate. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

  I pull her into a hug and hold on for an extra moment. I breathe in her scent, hoping beyond anything she forgives me. When we pull away, she looks up at me with tears in her eyes.

  �
��He’ll be okay,” I reassure.

  “It makes me sick. Physically sick.”

  “I know. Me too. We’ll talk later, okay?”

  She nods, knowing what I mean. I lean down and kiss her forehead. “I’ll let you know once we get settled.”

  Then I leave, hoping the entire drive back to her mom’s house our relationship can survive this. I feel as if I just got her. I don’t want to let her go. Ever.

  Chapter Thirty

  Mackenzie

  Who exactly is Nate Dixon?

  The question plays through my mind as I sit beside Liam and watch him sleep. From the moment Nate crashed into our lives, he has been there to help. From the chance meeting alongside the highway to him saving my son and a slew of other accolades in between, not once has he complained. Even now, with his text letting me know he got home safely with Nick. Nate is always there like a knight in shining armor. But I don’t understand the need for secrecy. Freelance was what he told me. But a freelance surgeon? Do they even exist?

  The steady staccato of Liam’s heartbeat fills the otherwise silent room. My gaze shifts to the monitor and then back to my boy. My boy, who I would’ve never found if it wasn’t for Nate. Jill left in search of coffee, and her absence gives me too much time to think. Nate once said he was married to the country. I wondered what he meant by that, but didn’t press. I figured it was a weird twist on American pride or something similar. Like being dedicated to a job. His job . . . as a surgeon? Dedication. Country. I gasp as everything clicks. Of course, it makes total sense. He’s military. Or he was. He certainly has the discipline of a soldier. The way he conducts himself. The way he folded my clothes. Why haven’t I noticed that before?

  And why didn’t he tell me?

  I run my fingers through Liam’s soft blond strands. His calm breaths are a complete contradiction to the turmoil brewing in my gut. Nate probably didn’t want to mention anything military since I lost my husband. When I mentioned Ethan was a soldier, he didn’t act surprised. Because he knew. Of course he knew. He pretty much told me so. Someone had already gotten to him. Probably Chatty Cathy. God, I miss being discreet. At least in Georgia, no one knew my business. Never mind the fact I never had any business for anyone to share. But my actions, the things I did, weren’t broadcasted across the town’s airwaves.

  “Here you go.” Jill waltzes into the room and hands me a much-needed jolt of caffeine. I take a sip, which warms my insides. I hadn’t realized how cold the room temperature even was.

  “Thank you. I really needed this.”

  “It’s what I do. All day, every day.”

  “True that.”

  “So.” She drags the word out as she holds her cup to her lips. “A surgeon, huh?”

  “Yeah, who knew?”

  “Well, that’s rather delicious.”

  “The coffee?”

  She levels me with a look. “Ha ha. I guess we were way off on the writer part.”

  I laugh, but it holds more sadness than anything. “Definitely off. I don’t know. I still feel as if I’m missing a connection or something. Why does he have this overpowering need to protect the kids and me?”

  “Maybe because he likes you?”

  “Hmm.”

  “You seriously doubt that?” she scoffs. At my half shrug, she continues, “The first day he walked into the café, he took one look at you, and I knew.”

  “Knew what?” I take another sip.

  “That the two of you are destined to be together.”

  I almost choke on my drink. Sputtering, I say, “You’re crazy.”

  “Girlfriend, please. From day one, he looked as if he wanted to own you.”

  “Own me? I’m property now?”

  “No, I mean in the—” Her gaze shifts to Liam and then back to me. She mouths, “Bedroom.”

  “I’ll give you that.” My lips curl into a tiny smirk. He does own me there. I’ve never experienced that kind of passion before. He takes charge, and I like it.

  “I knew it!”

  I shake my head in disbelief and then sigh from the weight of the stress.

  “Hey, look at it this way. You’ll have a professional to help take care of Liam.”

  “Silver lining. Nate said he’d take care of Liam while I work and go to school.”

  “Speaking of work, you can take all the time off you need. Don’t worry about the café. I can handle it for a while.”

  “Thanks.” I shift in my chair. These hospital chairs aren’t the most comfortable. But then again, who am I to complain? I’m not the one with a broken leg. My stomach rolls. “I don’t know how anything is going to go right now.”

  My classes or my clinical. I don’t want to leave the boys at Mom’s. I can’t trust them around them. That becomes more obvious every day. I may have to drop my classes. Again.

  But Nate’s right. We need to talk, and I need answers.

  “How’s my boy?”

  I cringe at the sound of my mom’s voice. Jill gives me a side-eyed glance. Yeah, she knows the last person I want to deal with right now is my mom. I’m not prepared to listen to excuses about Jordan. Mom will defend him and try making me feel guilty. But it won’t work this time. Forgiveness is the last thing on my mind while I watch my banged-up boy lie helplessly in the hospital bed.

  “He’s pretty sedated, but he’ll be fine. You didn’t have to drive all the way here.”

  “Sure, I did. I left once Nate picked up Nick.” At least she waited until Nick was in capable hands.

  “Were there any problems?” Like Nate tearing into Jordan? I saw the distaste in Nate’s eyes when we were back in the field. If it wasn’t for the fact he needed to attend to Liam, I’m pretty sure he would’ve punched him.

  “It’s good seeing you, Mrs. Turner. I’ll let you visit with your family.” Jill pushes to her feet. “As I said, take whatever time you need. I’ll check in tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Jill. I appreciate you coming.” I’m so lucky to have someone like her in my corner.

  “Oh, my poor boy,” Mom says as she eyes Liam. The stitches across his forehead. The cast on his leg. The shiny bruises peppering his arms. She makes the sign of the cross and whispers the Hail Mary.

  “As I explained on the phone, we’ll have to keep an eye on his spleen. But it’s bruised, not ruptured. His leg will heal in time.” Only now he’ll set off the security scanners every time he travels. He gets to look forward to reliving this day for the rest of his life. I shudder.

  Mom kisses Liam on the head and then settles in the seat beside me. I must be scowling because her mouth dips to a frown. A look she gets whenever she’s about to defend Jordan.

  “I know you want to murder Jordan right now, but he feels awful.”

  “He had no right taking him out without my permission,” I quip.

  “I’m not saying it’s right, but don’t shun him away.”

  Is she for real? I look at my mom. Really look at her. The worry lines framing her eyes. Her mouth drawn taut. She actually wants me to forgive him.

  “Mom, what Jordan did is unforgivable. Liam almost died. If his spleen had ruptured, he would have.”

  She at least has the decency to flinch. “I’m not condoning what Jordan did, but—”

  “It sure sounds like you are.”

  “No, I’m not. But he realizes the ramifications of his actions.”

  “I’m surprised,” I scoff. Mom’s pulling out the big words. I’m instantly suspicious. “What’s really going on?”

  “This is the first time he’s come back in years. I don’t want him disappearing again.”

  Her words couldn’t be more precise—to hell with what he has pulled on my son and me. We should handle Jordan with kid gloves, so his precious pride doesn’t get wounded, and he runs and hides for another five years. Jordan never could do anything wrong in her eyes. Apparently, being neglectful doesn’t rank. Fuck that.

  “I appreciate that you don’t want him to leave, but what he did is bey
ond forgiving.” I motion to Liam’s leg. “Liam’s literally lying here broken, and you’re defending the person who’s responsible for his injury.”

  Her sigh reverberates through the space between us and punches my chest. I feel it down to my bones. It’s the kind of sound that lets you know how disappointed she is with you.

  “Mom, I know I’m being harsh, but my kids are all I have left. They’re my entire life. I won’t let anyone threaten them, whether intentional or not.” I say the words wholeheartedly but also know they’re not entirely true. There is one other person who I’ve grown to depend on and yes, care for him. He may have some explaining to do, but he has undoubtedly edged his way into my life. And I intend to get those answers.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Mackenzie

  Like a military dog that’s fiercely loyal to its handler, Nate comes through for us yet again.

  “Thank you for picking us up.” I watch Nate as he lowers Liam onto his bed. I try not to notice the flex of Nate’s muscles, but I’d have to be blind. The man aces the looks department, but that isn’t what sends quivers through my insides. It’s the natural way he looks when handling Liam. It’s as if he belongs with our family. And that scares me more than anything, considering I don’t know how long he plans on staying.

  I run my hand through my hair and cringe. Nate may portray a sexy beast, but I, on the other hand, look like a dumpster fire. What’s left of my eyeliner is smeared. Thank God I don’t wear much makeup. My mouth tastes like something crawled inside and died. And I can smell myself. Believe me. It’s not Chanel N° 5. I need a hot shower and a glass of wine.

  “Mom, will I be able to play soccer again?”

  Nate and I exchange a glance before I thread my fingers through Liam’s hair. I knew he’d be concerned about playing. “It will take several months for your leg to heal, but by next year, you should be strong enough to play.”

  “They’ll let me play even with the plates and screws?”