Chapter 2 Intervention #2
He huffed out a breath that failed to reach the status of a proper laugh. “You gotta be shitting me. What am I, Cinderella? How do you expect me to believe that shit?” He wasn’t even sure he believed in ‘genuine love.’ He’d sure as fuck never seen it.
Ella lowered her arm back to her lap. “It is a difficult decision in your position, I recognize that. In fact, your odds of making the one that leads to a happy ending—without any intervention—are nearly zero. Which is why I chose to pop in. You’re a good man, Lance Blackburn.
A modern-day hero. And heroes deserve better rewards than scraps of colored fabric and imprinted metal. So, I’ll make you a deal.”
He scowled, mostly at the disrespectful way she referred to his medals, but again, she kept talking.
“I’ll give you twenty-four hours to make your choice.
” She reached out and laid her palm directly over his bandaged leg.
“I’m going to forcefully reduce your body’s natural healing abilities to that of an ordinary man, and temporarily make the doctors forget the dosing instructions your dear friend drilled into them. ”
Panic surged up in Lance’s chest. Nothing about that sounded good. If she stripped away the enhanced healing his power provided, his leg wouldn’t heal right.
Ella drummed her fingers over the wrappings.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “If you choose the familiar path, the moment you make the conscious choice, your functions will return to normal. If you should see the potential I’m offering, or even merely decide to hope for it, and choose the path you’ve not yet traveled, then your healing will return more gradually.
Either way, you will make a full recovery.
But whether you’ll be back on your feet by mid-week, or not until the next, is up to you.
” She patted his leg once before standing and stepping from the bed. “Remember, twenty-four hours.”
The dull ache he’d been ignoring immediately blossomed into an angrier, throbbing sensation that had him gritting his teeth. What the fuck?
Ella walked around to the foot of his bed, smiling as if she hadn’t done something strange to his system. “Oh, and that pretty nurse I promised? She’ll be here in about thirty seconds. Try to compose yourself. She’s a real keeper.”
He swallowed hard. “What?”
Ella only let out a soft laugh before turning and quite literally disappearing into thin air. As if she’d never been there at all.
What the fuck?
He was still staring at the vacant space across from his bed when the door opened, and the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on stepped into his room. Dressed in nursing scrubs.
“Good afternoon”—she glanced at the tablet tucked into her arm— “Master Gunnery Sergeant Blackburn. I’m Lynnette.
” She raised a smile to him that sucked the air right out of his lungs.
He couldn’t look away. Her thick, soft-looking hair was the perfect shade of auburn and piled up on her head, a few whisps curling around her face.
Her brown eyes sparkled like gold in the angled lighting.
His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as she stepped closer. He felt like a damn teenager again.
“That’s pretty impressive, as I understand it,” she said. “My father was Navy, and he tells anyone who listens how proud he still is to have made it to Petty Officer Second Class.”
Lance smiled. “He should be.” The words managed not to come out broken and for a moment he thought about stopping while he was ahead. But he’d never been that type of guy. “Wish we were meeting under better circumstances, but you can just call me Lance.”
A sound like a muffled laugh escaped her, and her eyes followed the movement of his arm as he rolled it over and raised it at the elbow for a proper handshake. Awkward as shit, really, but he was already doing it.
To his surprise, she adjusted her hold on the tablet and tucked her hand into his. Her skin was warm and he noted an edge of roughness before the smooth softness of her palm settled over his. He hoped that came from manual hobbies and not something worse.
When their hands fell apart, Lynnette switched her gaze to the obnoxious machines positioned around the top half of his bed like the ruins of a shelter. “Your vitals all look stable for now, but how’s your pain?”
“Heh.” The pain in his leg was probably what was keeping him from saying anything too stupid. “I’ve felt better,” he admitted. He gave a shrug. “I’ve also felt worse.”
She frowned and he immediately wanted to reach up and smooth the crease in her forehead away.
“None of that sounds good to me.” She glanced at her tablet, scrunched up her lips, and met his gaze again.
“It’s a bit too soon to give you another dose, unfortunately.
But I’ll make a note for the next nurse to administer something when she pops in to check on you. ”
“Next nurse?”
She smiled. “I’ll be clocking off soon,” she said. “But you’ll have me for most of tomorrow, so I thought I’d slip in and introduce myself. See if you need anything.”
Well… Was he really disappointed because this gorgeous nurse was going to leave him until after the next sunrise? Pain radiated up his leg and Crazy Ella’s voice whispered through him.
“The one whose future is meant to be tied to yours.”
Shit. That sounded way heavier than he’d initially processed.
And he was disappointed. That was not a good sign.
He drew a frustratingly shaky breath and looked into Lynnette’s eyes again. “I’m as good as I’m gonna get for now. I’ll hold out ‘til morning for you, don’t worry.”
That time she did laugh, just briefly, and she patted his arm. “Well, that’s good. You rest, and don’t be too proud to push that button if you need something between check-ins. I’ll see you tomorrow, Lance.”
She whisked out the door as easily as she’d entered and something in his chest constricted.
Fuck. Did he believe that crazy blonde who’d literally evaporated into thin air? Never exactly seen anyone do that before. So maybe he did. And she’d said something about a choice.
His eyelids grew heavy as his mind spun.
Vengeance on the goddamn shifter who’d shot up that bakery and nearly ripped off his leg? Or … a fucking … fairytale?