Chapter Three
DOC KNEW HE had shocked the doctor. Julie—he liked that name. It had a beautiful ring that lingered in his mind. He wasn’t serious but wanted to see if she had a sense of humor, a spark of wit that could brighten his day. Strangely enough, he felt an inexplicable urge to engage with her despite their recent introduction amid the turbulence of the hospital environment. But damn, she was a striking woman. Tall, standing at least six feet. He could imagine her as a runner with her lean, athletic build. However, the baggy scrubs and oversized lab coat concealed the full extent of her physique, leaving her a tantalizing mystery yet to be unraveled.
A searing pain ricocheted through his back like a shockwave, and he couldn’t hold back a low, desperate groan of anguish. The fading effects of the pain medication filled him with dread.
She skillfully dodged the question, just as he had done with her inquiry about being a doctor. “Let me examine you first, and then we’ll arrange for some pain relief to alleviate your discomfort as you recover,” she said, her voice soothing and professional.
Doc wanted to embrace his tough persona and stubbornly refuse the pain medication altogether. Still, he wasn’t naive enough to overlook his ability to heal quickly. “Just light meds,” he conceded.
As Julie started her meticulous examination, he glanced up at Chief Wise, who was watching him closely and with concern. “How’s it going, Chief?”
“Not too shabby, Doc. Care to explain what the hell happened?” Wise’s tone was sharp, yet it carried an undercurrent of concern.
A flicker of memory swept through Doc’s mind like a shadow. “How’s Simon?” he asked, dread slowly creeping into his chest.
Julie’s hands froze briefly on him, her expression shifting to worry as the chief shifted uncomfortably. He knew the answer, and his heart sank further at the thought of Simon not making it after Doc had been so eager to invite his friend to visit.
“Dr. Garcia worked on him for five grueling hours, but ultimately, the extent of the damage was too severe….” Julie began, her voice trailing off as Doc raised his hand to interrupt her.
“I got it,” he said, his voice laced with anger—not directed at her, but at the unyielding situation before them.
Simon had always admired and envied Doc’s life: first, as the fearless paramedic rushing headfirst into danger; then, as a steadfast Navy SEAL team leader; and ultimately, as the compassionate protector, guiding civilians and military personnel through crises. This deep-seated envy may have fueled Simon’s misguided belief that he could fend off an attacker with a sharp knife.
Exhausted, Doc wiped his hand across his tired face, weighed down by guilt. It was his fault, and the realization loomed over him like an unwelcome shadow.
Julie gently examined the tender wound on his back, her fingertips gliding across his skin, each delicate press eliciting a response that was a strange mix of pain and unexpected longing. What was happening to him? His friend lay motionless, the weight of guilt heavy on his conscience, yet here he was, his mind betraying him with thoughts of the doctor’s skilled hands intimately exploring his body. He was in urgent need of help, both physically and emotionally.
“Everything looks good,” Julie reassured, her voice calm and warm as she focused intently on the tablet before her. “I’ll send in those pain medications for you right away. Once we’re finished here, we’ll move you to a private room, and if all goes well, you’ll be on your way home tomorrow.” She offered an encouraging smile, her eyes sparkling with genuine care.
Doc felt utterly detached from himself, the weight of his impending journey pressing heavily on his chest. The thought of returning to his empty home did little to comfort him. Before long, he would make his way to Kissimmee, Florida, to attend Simon’s funeral. As he envisioned the sorrowful faces of Simon’s family, a sinking feeling settled in his stomach—they would mercilessly blame him for their tragic loss. Deep down, he knew they were right. He shouldn’t have taken Simon down that alley shortcut. He was all too aware of the lurking dangers that haunted the streets of Baltimore. The joy of laughter and camaraderie had clouded his judgment, and now he faced the bitter consequences of his choices.
Doc stared at the stark white wall ahead, oblivious to Julie as she quietly slipped away from his recovery room. A heavy silence filled the space, punctuated only by his faint voice, “Chief, can we do this later?”
Chief Wise stepped forward, his presence immediately filling the air with tension. “We can handle this later, Doc. But I need you to know that we caught the two who attacked you and your friend. As the police rushed to the scene, they were seen fleeing with bloody knives in their hands.”
Relief washed over Doc like a fleeting wave in a sea of despair. This was good news. Yet, deep down, he felt an unshakable weight of sorrow. He nodded slowly as resignation and acceptance overtook him.
The chief reassuringly patted his leg before stepping back.
What should he do now? With his job suspended in limbo during his recovery, an unsettling, suffocating emptiness enveloped him like a thick fog. Work had always served as a sanctuary for him, a bustling escape that distracted him from the relentless, spiraling thoughts tormenting him like shadows in the night. Now, the vivid memories of his last moments with Simon flickered like a film playing in slow motion in the alleyway, surging forward and invading his mind with each painful heartbeat.
“Hello, Mr. White,” a nurse greeted as he entered the room. “I have some pain medication for you, along with another dose of antibiotics prescribed by Dr. Banks.” Rodney nodded appreciatively at the young man who skillfully maneuvered a computer cart beside him.
How could he smile when Simon’s laughter had been silenced forever? A heavy weight settled in his chest as memories rushed back, memories filled with the anguish of survivor’s guilt. He had struggled with that deep-seated feeling during his years in the military, enduring countless hours of counseling after a harrowing overseas operation that had cost him part of his team. While he recognized that this wasn’t the same brand of guilt that gnawed at him now, something felt far more unsettling. It was the burden of knowing that he had unintentionally taken Simon away from the world, a truth that shattered him to his core, pushing him toward the brink of despair.
Another male hospital employee entered as the nurse passed him the prescriptions and a glass of water. “I’m here to take him to a room,” he announced.
“Thanks, Kevin. Just give me a moment and I’ll walk you over. He should be heading to Room 312.”
The other employee nodded with a slight smile. “That’s what I have, too,” he confirmed.
Usually, Doc would have been eager to ask probing questions and engage in meaningful conversations with the two individuals beside him. However, a heavy blanket of sorrow enveloped him, making it nearly impossible for him to initiate dialogue. He felt a profound indifference toward the mixture ominously pumped into his veins. His focus was consumed by the storm of grief raging within him. At that moment, all he craved was solitude, a chance to confront the profound loss weighing on his heart.
Matt Hamilton awaited him as he was rolled into the brightly lit confines of Room 312. As a fellow former SEAL team leader and co-owner of Hamilton Investigation and Security, Matt wasted no time. “The chief filled us in on the situation. How are you holding up?”
Knowing all the men at HIS, Matt would best understand his loss and how he compared it to military losses. Doc spoke the truth. “Shitty.”
“I understand,” Matt said, his voice steady yet laced with concern. “We can discuss it whenever you’re ready. But tell me, how does the wound feel?”
Doc shrugged in a familiar gesture of indifference. “Fine, as far as I can tell.” He tried to hold a brave front despite the throbbing pain.
“I imagine you want some time alone right now,” Matt continued, his tone softening, “but the men found out about your stay in the hospital. I suspect they’ll swing by to check on you at some point.”
Damn it. Doc craved solitude but couldn’t deny that the agents had good intentions. “Got it,” he said, resignation creeping into his voice.
“Okay, I won’t hold you up any longer,” Matt said, his words hanging in the air. After a moment of silence, he continued. “Doc, I’m just a call away if you need me.”
“Thanks, Cap,” Doc replied, the shortened form of the military term “captain” flowing easily from his tongue, a reminder of their shared rank, history, and camaraderie.
Matt opened the door to find Cowboy with a pizza box balanced in one hand. The aroma of melted cheese and spicy pepperoni wafted behind him.
“The food here will kill you,” Cowboy joked, suddenly stopping as he recognized the weight of his words. “Sorry, man.”
Doc nodded in acknowledgment, fully aware that Cowboy’s comment was harmless.
As the hours passed, agents began to file into his cramped room, each bringing a delicious pizza to share. Laughter and chatter filled the air, the scent of freshly baked pies mingling with the sterile smell of the hospital. With so much food piling up, Doc directed some of the surplus to the nurses’ station and the doctors’ lounge, ensuring everyone could enjoy the unexpected feast.
As the men slowly departed, the quietness enveloped Doc like a warm blanket, bringing a wave of relief he had desperately craved. Yet, after only a few brief minutes of solitude, he felt restlessness creep in and called the nurses’ station, his voice sounding even more fragile than he felt. “Would you ask the doctor if I can have something to help me sleep?” he inquired, his tone a mix of hope and defeat.
Deep down, he understood that true slumber wouldn’t come to him as the weight of the night’s events pressed heavily on his eyelids. Only the soothing embrace of medicine could coax him into a dreamless oblivion. Otherwise, he feared the relentless replay of the fight would haunt him throughout the night.
A bright presence entered the room before the nurse could fulfill his request for a sleep aid. Pup bounced in with cheerful energy, followed by their newest puppy trainee, Casey, who wore her adorable “Service Dog in Training” vest. Casey’s tail wagged energetically as she sensed the shift in the atmosphere.
For the first time that day, a genuine smile spread across Doc’s face, lighting up his weary expression. His heart swelled with affection for the dog. She embodied love and warmth, and her presence comforted him.
“I thought you might like some doggie kisses,” Pup said. A wry smile danced on his lips as he observed Doc’s demeanor change with the arrival of the beloved furry companion.
With the word “kisses,” Doc’s mind drifted back to the enchanting Dr. Julie Banks, her vibrant smile and sparkling eyes remaining in his thoughts. The mere anticipation of seeing her again made his heart race, filling him with excitement and longing.
“Yeah,” Doc said, “I’d love for Casey to join me.”