Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Pain was there, but somehow far away. God bless pain meds, Nick thought.
He hurt, but it was as if his body were in another room, together with the pain.
Eyes closed, he took stock. He hurt everywhere, but most particularly his shoulder and lower abdomen.
There was a reason those two places hurt, but he couldn’t actually pinpoint it.
Something had happened—something important—but the memory danced just beyond his reach.
He knew where he was. A hospital. No mistaking that smell and the faint sounds of machinery beeping. Nick hated hospitals, but something, some deep knowledge his body had, told him he couldn’t simply get up and walk out. He was stuck.
And there was something warm and soft on his hand and something warm and soft and tickly on his face.
With great effort, he cranked his eyes open. Yep. Hospital room. Not light but not dark. He had no idea what time it was or even what day it was. He lifted his hand and found there was something on it.
Parker’s hand. Parker’s hair, on his face because her head was next to his. She drew in a breath, lifted her head, smiled at him.
She was mussed, pale, without makeup. She was so beautiful.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey.” He coughed. His voice came out like a frog’s.
“You can have a sip or two of water. Would you like some?”
Considering his throat hurt when he spoke, he just nodded his head. She reached out for a blue thermos, unscrewed the top and put a straw in. She bent the straw to his mouth, and he sucked in blessed, ice-cold water. It felt like heaven. After only a few sips, though, she removed the thermos.
“I was told you can only have a little water at a time, but as often as you like. Don’t worry, I’ll be here.”
He clutched her hand. “What—” his throat seized up.
“What happened?” He nodded.
“Well, in a nutshell, we won. The bad guys came swooping in for the kill, but you shot the first one and I shot the second one after the first one shot you.”
His eyes widened.
“Yes indeed. I shot someone. Twice. I hit him, too, because I was highly motivated. He’d just shot you after you ran across the tunnel to shield me.
I was so angry. I thought he’d killed you.
He was walking toward you with a machine gun held in one hand just like in the movies.
But I sighted along that gun you gave me—flipped the safety, red is dead—and aimed for the chest. But then his head exploded and that definitely wasn’t me.
It was your friend Dylan, who is great, by the way, and the cavalry was right behind him.
He’d taken a chopper. So all the bad guys were either killed or taken into custody.
And Dylan told me to tell you that no one got a look at us.
And no one knows us, knows we were there.
And indeed, only three people know we were there.
Not even the US soldiers who were there know who we are. Dylan made sure we were shielded.”
He blew out a breath of relief. The mob had long memories, and if it was general knowledge that he and Parker had thwarted a major heist of nukes, their lives wouldn’t be worth living. They’d have to go into hiding forever.
“What about—” he croaked.
“The nukes? I don’t really know, but Dylan said to tell you that NEST is on site and taking care of things. And that you guys don’t have to worry anymore.”
Nick’s shoulders relaxed. NEST officers were among the best and were guaranteed to keep the Davy Crocketts and man portables out of enemy hands. Stateside, the nukes would probably be destroyed.
“Dylan also said that we are never to talk of this to anyone.”
Nick felt his eyes widen in horror and he shook his head violently, then stopped because he had stitches in his neck.
“Don’t worry about me. I have no intention of ever saying anything to anyone except you and maybe Dylan.
Also—I discovered that I have a violent and bloodthirsty streak I never knew I had, and I’m not proud of it.
I have killed a man, and I feel absolutely no remorse.
He’d just shot you and I thought you were dead, and I wanted him dead right back. ”
Nick felt a smile sneak across his face.
Parker looked indignant. “You find that funny?” She stopped, considered. “Maybe it is funny, a little.” She squeezed his hand tightly. “I’m so glad you survived,” she whispered.
“Glad I survived, too,” he whispered.
Parker gave a sly smile. “You know, I saved your life. I think. Or if not, it was a saving-your-life adjacent act. You owe me.”
Nick let his eyes roam over that beautiful face. “I do. Big time.”
She cocked her head. “How are you going to reward me?”
Well, that was easy. The woman of his dreams had saved his life. How was he going to pay her back?
“Anything you want,” he croaked, voice flat. “Anything at all.” His voice was weak, but he meant every word with every fiber of his being.
Parker looked startled. She’d been teasing him and wasn’t expecting his sober answer. “Oh! Well, what I want is for you to get better. I hate seeing you like this.”
He rolled his eyes, and she laughed. “Yes, I know. You hate it more than I do.”
There was a soft knock and immediately after Dr. Crowley stepped in, pushing a cart. “Mr. Garin. And Dr. Parker! This is a delightful surprise.”
Parker smiled. “Do you want me to leave?”
“That is entirely at Mr. Garin’s discretion. Do you want Dr. Parker to leave?”
Nick shook his head no.
Dr. Crowley turned to Parker. “Ordinarily, yes, we’d ask visitors to leave, but it was made clear to me that we are to accommodate the two of you as much as possible.
” He smiled, pointing a thumb at the ceiling.
“Whatever you did, it pleased someone in power. Or several someones. And now, Doctor, I’ll have to ask you to move aside. ”
She stepped aside, back against the wall.
The doctor put on latex gloves and fiddled with things on the cart. Nick did not want to know. He hated being sick, he hated doctors, he hated hospitals. Dr. Crowley held gauze in a forceps-type…thing. He poured a smelly liquid over it. A disinfectant.
“Mr. Garin, can you sit up?”
The fuck kind of question was that? Of course he could sit up. Except…he was finding it hard. He placed a hand with an IV line running into it on the bed and pushed, schooling his face to impassivity. It freaking hurt!
So quickly it was over before he realized what she was doing, Parker stepped forward, put a hand on his uninjured shoulder and pushed and he sat up. Before he thought to tell her he didn’t need help, she’d stepped back again against the wall.
The doctor slipped the hospital gown down over his shoulders. “Let’s look at the wound,” he said.
Nick twisted to see what he was doing. The doctor deftly peeled off thick gauze from his back. Nick had to stretch to see the wound. The wound was as long as his index finger, very neatly stitched up. Didn’t look bad at all, and the skin was clear.
Parker gasped.
“It’s okay, honey,” he said. “It’s just a scratch.”
“You military types,” the doctor said absently, swabbing the wound. It hurt, a little, but Nick would rather be fed to alligators than show anything.
“Not military,” he said between clenched teeth.
The doctor stopped, the swab held in the air and stared at him. “You were. You definitely were. I’d bet my degree on it.”
Bingo. Nick nodded briefly.
In a moment, the wound was cleaned, together with the wound on his shoulder, and bandaged back up.
Doctor Crowley straightened. “Well, it looks like you’re healing nicely. No infection, clean margins. In a couple of days you can go home. Is there anything we can do for you?”
“Yes.” Nick put his legs over the edge of the bed. “Can I be released now?”
“Now?”
“Now. I have my clothes.” Nick reached for the IV needle in his hand.
Dr. Crowley put his hand over Nick’s. It was much smaller than his hand, but sinewy and visibly strong.
“Nope,” Dr. Crowley said cheerfully. “I know you’re used to being the alpha male, but in here, I am.
And you stay for as long as I say so. I know you’re also King for a Day for something you did that no one can know about, but you do not want to cross me. ” He smiled. “Trust me on this.”
Nick knew when he was beaten. He sighed and pulled his legs back up onto the bed. Parker pursed her lips, trying not to smile.
“Can he eat, doctor?” she asked.
Dr. Crowley was walking out and stopped, one hand on the door, considering.
“He’s lucky. The bullet didn’t hit the intestines.
He can eat very bland food. Soon dinner will be served.
Cream of wheat and a boiled potato.” He shot Nick a smile.
“Buon appetito,” he said, in what even Nick realized was an atrocious accent and disappeared.
Parker approached the bed. She bent and kissed him on the forehead. “It’s a good thing I brought you some food, then.”
His eyes widened. “You did?”
“I surely did. Food fit for a convalescent, which you are, much as you’d like to deny it, but not food straight from the hospital equivalent of the Consulate kitchen.”
“You owe me a home-cooked meal,” Nick said, trying to keep a whine out of his voice.
They should have had a romantic evening at her place—including food—whereas instead he’d been under anesthesia being stitched up.
Though in his heart of hearts, he knew he wasn’t up to much today, and it was better to be in bed, hurting, with stitches, than six feet underground.
He’d be better tomorrow. He was a fast healer, and he had the best motivation in the world to heal up fast.
That motivation was right by his side, laying out a dinner for him on the table next to the bed.
First, a pretty light green table mat. Then a pretty bowl with flowers around the rim, the flowers matching the color of the table mat. He laughed when he saw what she pulled out next, though laughing freaking hurt.