Chapter Eleven
Shane leaned against the wall, his face tilted up to the cloudless sky, eyes closed.
He wouldn’t ever take warmth for granted ever again, not after this.
All around him there was excited chatter as the family members of Hell Week survivors waited to pick up their loved ones, a cheer going up when a dark blue bus turned off the Strand and inched through the gate.
It pulled up in front of the training center and Shane caught a brief glimpse of disheveled men stumbling off and being directed inside.
He searched the group eagerly for Matt but was unable to pick him out of the crowd, so he paced up and down the sidewalk, hands crammed in the pockets of his jeans.
His stomach roiled with nervousness. This so wasn’t gonna be pretty.
One by one his former classmates emerged from the building, this time dressed in clean, dry clothes. They looked—there was no other word for it than shell-shocked. Despite the grins on their tired faces as they greeted their loved ones, they were obviously drained and running on fumes.
When Shane finally saw Matt trudging toward his room, he muttered a quick prayer and jogged to intercept him, heart in his throat. “Hey.”
Matt froze when he saw him, his mouth dropping open as he did a double take. “I really am delirious.” He started to shuffle off again and Shane blocked his way.
“You’re not hallucinating me, I promise.” He tried a grin.
It didn’t work. Matt’s face darkened with anger even as he swayed a little on his feet. “Yeah, unfortunately not. What the hell are you doing here?”
“I, uh—”
Shaking his head in disgust, Matt pushed past him. “Get outta my fuckin’ way, loser. I need to sleep.”
“I know.” Shane hurried to get in front of him again.
“It’s just—I thought maybe you’d want to come home with me.
No, not for that,” he rushed on, horrified, when Matt’s lip curled up in a sneer.
“Christ, no. I just thought you might be more comfortable in a real bed than on those cardboard mattresses we have in the barracks. It’ll be darker, quieter… ” His voice trailed off lamely.
And I really, really want a chance to talk to you.
Clearly debating with himself, Matt looked up at his room, then back at Shane, then back at his room, his face pale with exhaustion. “Well, those beds suck ass.”
A cautious relief surged. “They do.”
“And you’ll make sure I get back here by noon tomorrow for medical check?”
“Of course.”
“Okay. I can’t believe I’m doing this, but gimme a sec.” Pulling himself painfully up the stairs to his room, Matt reappeared a short time later with a backpack over his shoulder. Shane resisted the urge to offer him help, slowing his steps to match Matt’s hobble.
“You look…bad.”
“Says the quitter.”
Shane winced but didn’t reply. This wasn’t the time, and besides, he wasn’t at all sure Matt would remember any of this later. He looked like he’d been dragged through the streets of hell by a particularly sadistic cat.
Matt tossed Shane his keys, and once in the truck, fumbled with the lever to recline his seat.
The simple task seemed beyond him, so he tried propping his elbow on the center console with his cheek in his hand but it kept slipping off.
Finally Shane reached over and pulled Matt’s head against his shoulder.
With a sigh, Matt burrowed in, and he was asleep before they even left the base.
Shane drove the short distance as carefully as he could, Matt’s quiet snores filling the small cab. After he’d rolled to a stop in his driveway, he patted Matt’s cheek.
“Wakey, wakey.”
No response.
Shane tried a few more times to rouse him, at last easing his shoulder free and hurrying around to the passenger side. He unbuckled Matt’s seat belt and grabbed his legs, pulling them toward him so that Matt was slumped sideways in his seat.
He took him by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. “Matt, you need to walk into the house and then you can sleep. C’mon.”
Matt mumbled something but couldn’t seem to make his brain engage, so at last Shane said loudly, “Go get wet and sandy!”
Matt’s eyes popped open and he leapt to standing, shouting, “Hooyah!” As he looked wildly about for a beach, Shane slipped his arm around his waist and guided him toward the house.
He ended up half-carrying him most of the way, Matt’s body shutting down as the willpower that had kept him going all week finally gave up the ghost.
Shane wrestled his T-shirt over his head and got his sweatpants off before helping Matt lie down on the soft bed.
He made sure his legs were elevated with a few pillows to keep the swelling down, then pulled the fluffy duvet over him and tucked him in like a child.
In seconds Matt was dead to the world, and Shane lingered, studying him.
He was thinner, much thinner. Scrapes and bruises covered almost all of his visible skin and his fingers were swelling up like sausages as the fluid pooled in his extremities. His body was clearly in revolt and it was a little disquieting to see Matt lying there so defenseless, so vulnerable.
Unwilling to leave him just yet, Shane puttered around the room, listening to Matt’s heavy, rhythmic snores. Ugh, he was gonna feel like shit when he woke up.
“I’ll be here when you do,” he whispered, at last tiptoeing toward the door. “Sleep well, Soup. You earned it.”
All throughout the rest of the day, Shane checked on him every hour or so. There wasn’t much movement from the bed, but sometime late evening he heard a muffled thumping. He hurried into the bedroom to find Matt on his feet.
“I can’t find the head,” he muttered groggily, bumping once again into the dresser.
Shane put his hand on his shoulder and wordlessly guided him toward the en suite bathroom, waiting while Matt noisily used the toilet before helping him lie back down.
“Oh, shit,” Matt groaned as he sank into the pillows. “Everything hurts.”
“I know.” Shane pulled the covers over him. “I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning.”
“Why’d you quit?” Matt asked suddenly, his dark eyes intent on Shane’s.
“We’ll talk about it later, okay? Get some sleep.”
Matt heaved a disgusted sigh as he turned on his side away from him. “Whatever.”
At midnight Shane slipped into bed beside him. He was sleeping peacefully, his breaths slow and even. Shane watched him for a while until he drifted off, too, only waking when Matt rose to make another head call around dawn.
Not sure if he wanted to go back to sleep or not, Shane kept his eyes closed, opening them when Matt collapsed back down and said, “Stop faking it. I know you’re awake.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Like hammered dog shit.” Matt’s voice was stronger, clearer, his eyes not so glassy. “Sleeping definitely helped.” He paused, his next words sounding grudging as all hell. “And having a decent bed. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Shane turned on his side to face him. “Did you sleep at all during the Week?”
Matt stared at the ceiling. “I tried, but I couldn’t get my mind to turn off, you know?
After forcing myself to stay awake for so long, when we were finally allowed to rest, I couldn’t.
” He grimaced. “A couple of guys who slept the first time said the pain of waking up was so bad, they refused to sleep the second time. It wasn’t worth it. ”
“Shit.”
He fell silent. Shane was wondering if he’d passed out again when he asked, his voice hard, “So why’d you quit?”
Here we go.
Blowing out a breath, Shane sat up and propped some pillows behind him. “Well, Alexis got into a bad car accident on Tuesday night.”
“What?” Matt gasped, rolling to face him. “Is she all right?”
“Yeah, but she was pretty messed up. Broken ribs, broken collarbone, shattered wrist.”
“The baby?”
“She was in the car, of course, but luckily didn’t have a scratch on her.” Shane’s voice wobbled and Matt reached over to grip his arm with strong, comforting fingers.
“Thank God.”
Shane leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes. “One of the instructors pulled me out of the water at that steel pier because there was a cop on the phone. Alexis had told them where to find me.”
Matt kept rubbing his thumb in soothing circles over Shane’s wrist.
“They put me in the ambulance and rushed me back to the training center. Bernson was already there and he was—everyone thinks he’s a hard ass and he doesn’t care about us, but he was amazing, Matt.
He personally drove me to the hospital, stayed with me until I knew she was gonna be all right… ” He choked off.
Matt squeezed his arm. “She’s gonna be okay?”
“Yeah. She had surgery on her wrist and they released her from the hospital this morning.”
Matt blew out a relieved breath. “So where is she? Here with you?”
“No.” Shane shook his head. “My parents flew out and took them both back to Florida this afternoon so she can recover. Bernson put me on emergency leave so I could take care of Libby till they were able to get here.”
“Fuck, Shane.” Matt let go of his arm with one last squeeze. “I’m glad everyone’s okay.”
“Thanks.”
A few beats of silence until Matt said, “I thought you’d just…quit, and I was so fuckin’ pissed.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “So pissed.”
Shane peeked over at him. “Did your anger keep you warm, at least?”
Matt grunted. “Yeah, actually, now that I think about it. At least for a few hours.”
“Once everything settled down, I hated knowing what you probably thought of me.”
“There’s no ‘probably’ about it,” Matt said harshly. “I was so disappointed in you, Shane.”
“Yeah.”
“What’s next for you? Do you know what your fleet assignment is yet?”
Shane’s mouth opened and closed a few times as he searched for the words, and Matt’s gaze sharpened. “Wait. You said he put you on leave. Are you really out or—”
“No.” Shane paused. “Bernson rolled me back to the next class.”
Matt’s eyes widened in outrage. “That wily bastard! He let us think you DORed!”