21. Michael
CHAPTER 21
The beeping of machines is the first thing I hear as I come awake. Next thing I notice is the dryness of my mouth and the bone-deep ache throughout my body. I feel like I got hit by a truck. And then it backed over me. Oxygen blows into my nose, and as I open my eyes, I have to blink rapidly until my vision clears.
The room is fairly dark, though the light pouring in through a crack in the curtains illuminates Reyna curled up on the couch, a blue blanket draped over her body. Her red hair is splayed over the white pillowcase, and I’m struck at the sight of her.
Alive.
Well.
Sleeping.
I glance around the room, trying to figure out just how I got here, and where here is. Are we still in Florida? Did Caleb get us out of the swamps? How do I not remember? There’s a board across from me with the nurse currently assigned to me, and right above it, Doc Harding is scrawled beside the assigned doctor.
Doc? Are we back in Hope Springs?
I scoot up, trying to be quiet about it, but the bed squeaks, and Reyna shoots up, her eyes wide and full of sleep. “I’m sorry,” I manage. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s fine.” She wipes the sleep from her eyes and stretches. “How do you feel?”
“Okay. Are we back in Hope Springs?”
She nods. “We got here last night.”
“How?”
Reyna stands and walks toward me, her movements slow and pained, then sits on the edge of the bed. Having her so close soothes my soul. Especially when she reaches out and brushes some hair off of my forehead. I close my eyes, her touch a salve for my brokenness.
“Your team tracked us down in the swamps. Then Caleb led us out as Lance and Elijah carried you.”
“Is Caleb okay?”
“He’s fine. We said our goodbyes, and he went home.” She smiles softly. “We wouldn’t have made it out without him.”
“No,” I agree. “We wouldn’t have.” I take a deep breath. “Carried me—I was that bad?”
Her eyes fill with tears. “I thought you were going to die, Michael. You were so pale. And your fever—” She sniffles. “Because of the accident, you had a concussion, three fractured ribs, a collapsed lung, and then there’s the gunshot wound. You almost died.”
“But I didn’t.” I reach out and take her hand. “I’m sorry I failed you. It was my job to keep you safe, and you ended up having to protect me instead. That’s now how it’s supposed to be.”
Her brow furrows. “You did protect me. Because of you, I wasn’t grabbed outside the party. Because of you, we made it to the swamps.”
“You’re the one who pulled me out of that room,” he tells me. “You’re the one that got us to the swamps.”
“Maybe physically, but—no. We’re not doing this. We got each other out of there. As a team.”
“Fair enough.” I lean back against the pillow. “Do they know who took us yet?”
“Yes. My brother’s set up a virtual meeting with your team this afternoon. My parents are with him back in some undisclosed location in Boston. They send their well-wishes.”
I snort. “Good of them.”
“I don’t know that I can forgive you for what you put me through before—when you left.” Her change of subject is so abrupt that I wonder if I misheard what she’d said. “But I want you to know that I’m trying. Even if I’m not sure—” She closes her eyes. “I can’t move on. I’ve tried. God knows I’ve tried.” She wipes her eyes. “No one is you. And I can’t tell if that’s me refusing to let go of the shell of what we had, or if it’s something more.”
I’m afraid to speak. To breathe. Because she’s saying all the things I’ve been desperate to hear since the moment I returned.
Before she can continue, the door opens, and a blast from the past strolls in, her obsidian hair in a tight braid over her shoulder. Wearing black combat boots, dark jeans, and a grey Army sweatshirt, she looks almost exactly as she did the last time I saw her. Piercing blue eyes find mine, and she grins. “Look who’s back from the brink of death.”
“Bianca? What? How?—”
“Lance phoned a friend when you were MIA. He said you’d been shot and were missing. I owed him one for saving my life, so it seemed a fair trade to rescue your tail.” She smiles at Reyna. “You’re looking better.”
“Amazing what a few hours of sleep and a shower can do.”
Bianca laughs. “Girl, don’t I know it. It really is good to see you, Anderson.”
Bianca Theodore was the best trauma surgeon I’d ever seen overseas. She handled more than a few injuries of mine and had been first on the scene when I’d nearly died. I hadn’t even realized she was out of the service. “You, too,” I tell her. “When did you get out?”
“About three years ago. I’m a veterinarian now. I prefer animals to people.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just surprised to see you,” I say as I realize I’m staring. Bianca and I had a date. One single date, and we both decided we were better off as friends. Me because I was still in love with Reyna. She never told me why she’d felt that way, but I always assumed it was someone back home.
“It’s all good. I was quite shocked to get the call from Captain Knight. And when I heard that it was the Reyna that you were with, I knew I couldn’t say no.” She winks at Reyna, who blushes. Bianca has never had much of a filter, so I’m not sure why I’m surprised that she blurted it out.
“I may have mentioned you a time or two,” I tell Reyna.
“A time or two?” Bianca laughs. “He couldn’t stop mentioning you. It was quite adorable.”
Reyna smiles softly, though I note the heaviness of her expression.
“Well, what’s the prognosis? Am I going to live?”
“As far as I know,” Bianca replies. “But I’m not your doctor.”
The door opens, and Lance walks in, Eliza at his side. “Thank God,” Eliza says and rushes forward to wrap her arms around me.
I return her hug with my good arm, grateful to be back home with friends. “It’s good to see you,” I tell her.
“It’s great,” she replies as she pulls back, tears falling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I can’t stop crying. I feel like it’s all I do right now.” She steps away and leans into Lance, who presses a kiss to the side of her head.
When her hand goes to her belly, joy flashes through me. “Are you?—”
She nods. “Just found out a few days ago.”
“That’s wonderful! And perfect news when I’m laying in a hospital bed.”
“You’re alive,” Eliza says. “And that’s what’s wonderful.”
“I’m going to go grab some coffee. Anyone want some?” Bianca asks as she gets to her feet.
“Please. I can come with you.” Reyna stands.
I long to reach for her. To pull her back down and ask everyone else to step out so we can continue our conversation, but I doubt it will go anywhere. Not after the interruption. So instead, I focus on being grateful that I get to see my friends again.
She leaves the room, and my gaze lingers on the door.
“She was a mess, worried about you,” Lance says.
I shift my attention to him. “Thank you for coming for us. For getting us out.”
“Brother, I would walk through fire for you.” He takes a seat on the edge of the bed as Eliza sits on the couch. “How are you feeling?”
“Alive. Sore.”
“You were in bad shape when we got to you. According to Bianca, Caleb removing that bullet and sterilizing the wound is likely the only reason you survived. The word blood poisoning was thrown around.”
“I’ve survived worse.”
“It’s not a competition,” he replies.
I chuckle. “Fair enough. What’s the update? Reyna said Carter’s calling in for a meeting later? I want to be there.”
“Not a chance. We’ll keep you updated, but it has to be done on the encrypted connection at the office, and you aren’t getting out of here for at least another day.”
“The warehouse was stocked with crates, Lance. There’s no telling what they were shipping out.”
“Drugs,” he replies. “At least, that’s what local authorities said they suspected after we called it in and they raided the place.”
“What did they find?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “They’d already cleared out before we got there.”
Frustration ebbs at my exhaustion, and the desire to get out of bed and do something is overwhelming. “Did he give you any idea as to why Reyna is being targeted?”
“Not yet. Though my guess is she’s collateral damage. A way to try and control him.”
“Which means he’s known from the beginning she was in danger.”
Lance doesn’t respond, but I know he agrees, and it infuriates me. Why wouldn’t Carter tell us? How could he keep something like this from us? She’s his little sister, and he left her completely unprotected!
“I know that look,” Lance says. “You need to keep it together. Long enough that we can figure out what’s going on.”
“All you’re seeing is my desire to get out of this bed and actually do something.”
“You will. Just give yourself time to heal.”
“I have.”
“You’ve only been in that bed for eleven hours,” Eliza says. “Stop being stubborn.”
“She’s right.” Lance stands and crosses his arms. “I promise that we’ll keep you apprised, but right now you need to stay safe. Sheriff Vick has a deputy on your door, and Jaxson will be with Reyna.”
“She’s not staying here?” I know it’s ridiculous, but the idea of her leaving the hospital terrifies me.
“That’s up to her. Either way—” The door opens again, and another part of my past walks in, though this one is even more shocking than Bianca.
Silas Williamson, a former Navy SEAL, was injured in the line of duty and ended up in the same VA hospital as the rest of us. He’d been badly traumatized and barely spoke, but Lance has a way of connecting with people that has always astounded me. He managed to get the former SEAL to open up, and through it, helped him find faith in the midst of his pain.
“Good to see you alive, Anderson.” He closes the door behind him and moves farther into the room.
“It’s good to see you at all, Williamson. How have you been?”
“Managing.” Last time we saw him, he was packing up himself and his four-year-old niece and moving off-grid after the murder of his sister. That was two years ago. We’d flown out for her funeral and spent the week helping him pack up her things and get them moved.
Haven’t heard from him since.
“Silas tracked you through the swamp,” Lance says, “and has agreed to come on temporarily until we manage to get all of this figured out.”
“You’re an asset, my friend. How is your niece?”
“Good. She’s spending time with Andie and Mrs. McGinley right now.” He shoves his hands into his pockets.
“All right. We need to get to the office.” Lance takes Eliza’s hand as she stands. Then he gently touches my arm with his other hand. “I’m grateful God pulled you through again. Life wouldn’t be the same without you.”
As they leave, I stare at the door, hating that I can’t follow.