Chapter 3
Three months later, Rocker knocked and entered Scarlett’s room. He glanced around at the unmade bed, the food tray on the bedside table untouched, and the curtains drawn.
He frowned as he spotted the woman who saved his ass more times than he could count.
Scarlett sat in a wing chair in the corner of her room.
Beside her, sat a large bookcase bursting with books, her favorite activity.
She appeared disheveled with uncombed hair, wrinkled pajamas, and wore two mismatched socks.
“Hey, Sassy Pants,” he greeted warmly.
Scarlett never turned her head to acknowledge him.
Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he sat across from her. “I hear you’re going through a tough time. I came to kick your ass. Do you remember what you told us when we reported we didn’t have a way out?” Rocker waited for her to reply.
When she didn’t, he continued. “You threatened to have your boss fly you to our location and promised to drag our asses out. All the time, letting everyone know a woman knew the directions. Talk to me, Sassy Pants,” he encouraged.
Scarlett turned her head toward him. “Don’t call me that anymore,” she said quietly. “I’m no good to anyone.”
“What the hell do you mean?” he said, taken aback.
Rocker glanced toward the door where her brother stood silently watching.
“You’ve saved a ton of men and women, and you have the nerve to spout that garbage.
Where’s your courage, soldier? Do I need to pull you up by your bootstraps and remind you of who you are? ”
“Listen. I’m sorry you made this trip for nothing,” she said tiredly. “My family doesn’t understand. I want everyone to leave me alone.”
“Sassy Pants,” he softly admonished. “It’s common for people to go through depression after they experience what we went through. You suffered a huge blow to the noggin, and your brother says you’re refusing to go see the specialists.”
“He’s got a big mouth,” she growled under her breath. “I’m blind, Rocker. The specialists all say the same thing. I’m living it, I don’t need someone else to confirm it.”
“You never know when they might come up with another treatment, or your brother mentioned something about searching for a donor.” He took her hand. “Don’t give up, now.”
“I’m not. It’s called accepting the diagnosis,” she said stubbornly. “Stop pestering me. Since you came all this way, tell me about Sledge.”
“He got accepted into The Winters Foundation. They’re helping him with his stump, and eventually he’ll get a prosthesis. Sledge sent us pictures of his little girl. She’s got a head of black hair and the biggest blue eyes you’ve ever…seen.”
“At least he can still hold his kid. How about you?” she asked.
“My leg feels stiff, and my shoulder will require another surgery at some point. We’re more concerned about you,” he reported.
“Everything’s dark. I can’t make it from my bed to the bathroom without stubbing my toe. If I rise too fast, I get dizzy,” she confessed. “They gave me a medal and thanked me for my service. They let me go, Rocker.”
“I know, Sassy Pants. It doesn’t mean your life ended,” he urged. “You can do anything you put your mind to.”
She started to say something, then stopped. “Thanks for coming, Rocker. It’s good to see you.”
He stood, shaking his head. “I’m not giving up on you, Sassy Pants,” he said before walking to her brother and patting his shoulder.
They met downstairs. Ryan ran his hand through his hair and paced the floor. “Do you see what I mean? She hasn’t left her room in two months. I asked you to come while my parents went into town to run errands. They’ll do whatever she asks, including leaving her alone for days. This can’t be good.”
“She’s depressed,” Rocker said as he took a cup of coffee from Ryan. “Maybe we can get her admitted to the hospital Sledge raves about. He’s happy with the care he’s received.” Rocker scratched the overgrowth under his chin. “How can we get her to go?”
Ryan shook his head. “I’ve tried everything. Scarlett likes to feel needed, and now she barely moves except to feel her books as she walks to the damn chair.”
“Sledge has a friend who told him about the place. Maybe he’ll have some ideas. How about I give you a call after speaking with him?” Rocker asked as he sipped the coffee.
“I appreciate any help. I’m spinning up next week, and I’m concerned about her.
Mom says to give her some time. Scarlett rarely eats.
She spoke more to you than she has in two months.
It’s like something inside her died. I get it, she’s blind.
For once, I don’t know what to do to help her,” Ryan lamented.
“I’ll make the calls, and we’ll figure it out. Your sister made a name for herself in Iraq. We’re not letting her down,” Rocker said, determined to help his friend. Standing, he shook Ryan’s hand and left.
Operation Sassy Pants commenced as soon as he got into his car.