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“Is it classified?” she asked.
“Nope.” He worked his fingers into the top of the hose and gently pulled the fabric to her knee. With care, Nutsbe worked to dislodge the fibers from the cut that had already crusted with a wide, coagulated scab. “The fresh blood will help clean out your wound from any tiny rocks and dirt.” He slid the rest of that pantyhose leg off, and it was bizarrely seductive. Olivia chalked those sensations up to survival hormones, a bit of a crush, and that she’d only read of such things in her bathtub smut novels.
“How did I get hit?” Nutsbe asked, “String of bad luck and miracles. This is going to burn.” He swiped over her knee with an alcohol pad. “Not the best first aid practices, but it’ll have to do in a pinch.” He turned the pad over and swiped it on the other side while Olivia tried not to wince. “I was flying a mission in Afghanistan. There was a massive sandstorm and high winds. Those storms could come up unpredictably. At the time, I had been skimming over a mountain range, trying to keep my bird in the shadows so I could poke out and drop my load without the guy manning the surface-to-air missiles seeing me in time. They could hear me for sure. I’m assuming it was the debris in the air that made both my engines cut out. I made an emergency landing in the middle of Taliban territory.” He tore the packet of petroleum jelly and swiped it over her cut. “They sent the SEALs to save my butt and blow up the plane.”
“Wow.”
“A little bit wow, yeah.” He placed a cotton square over the cut and reached for the cling bandaging. “I never needed rescuing before. It’s an odd sensation. In the Air Force, we’re on a team but also alone.” He lifted her leg and tucked it under his arm, trapping it there.
For Olivia, this was one of the most confusing moments of her life—being turned on by his gentle touch and attention while focusing on understanding the desperate straits he’d survived and not knowing if the sniper was still actively stalking the area now, looking for someone to put in his crosshairs. She wished she had control, that she could focus on a single thought or emotion—but obviously, her nervous circuitry was misfiring.
“There are skills I have that the SEALs depend on. I have done more than my share of bomb runs to protect them or cover their tracks. But that day, I was completely dependent on their unique skills. The relief is something incredible—there’s a profound sense of debt and brotherhood.”
Nutsbe wrapped the bright blue cling bandaging around her leg, setting her leg back on the ground to start again on her other side.
Olivia sucked in a stuttering breath, then released it in a rush.
“You okay? Hanging in?”
“I’m not going to cry, I promise.” She wasn’t a crier, but this might just be the time to start. It seemed like it would be a good way to let go of this pressure in her head and chest.
Their eyes met, and a slow grin spread across his face. She wanted to kiss him. That was inappropriate given the circumstances, not the least because of her need to brush her teeth and gargle with something very strong.
That look from him was what she needed, not tears.
Nutsbe gently slid the cool sheers between her flesh and the Nylon.
“Were you hurt putting the plane down?” Olivia asked.
“It was a bumpy ride in, but I was fine. After the SEALs blew up the plane, they had another mission to jump on, so they got me as far as the first convoy they could find outside the wire. That convoy would give me a ride back to the fort. From there, a helicopter was supposed to take me back to my base.”
He gently worked her stocking down her leg.
“But the convoy didn’t make it,” she whispered.
“It did not. The truck in front of us flew up in the air, and whatever it hit seemed to trigger along the chain behind us. That was bad. Four vehicles.”
“Wait. So the terrorists were able to rig it so that when the lead car got to the explosives, the entire convoy blew?”
“Wicked crazy stuff. That’s exactly what happened. So, yeah.” He paused for a long time, Scrutinizing her face; his mind seemed hard at work. Finally, he reached over and tapped the mute button on the phone. He licked his lips and said, “I’ve only ever told one other person this part of my story.” He paused as if he were reconsidering, then said, “Here it is. When I was lying there with my limbs fucked up—excuse my language.”
“Seems appropriate here.”
“This is kind of out there.” He looked around, focused up at the sky, then back at her. “I’ll just tell it like I did that time before. As a kid, my grandmother always knew when I was up to no good. Even if I was just thinking about it, the phone would ring. It was always Nan asking me what the hell I thought I was doing. It’s important to know that she died when I was a Doolie at the Air Force Academy—that’s freshman year. Okay, fast forward to after the convoy blew. I opened my eyes, and Nan was kneeling beside me. She was yelling at me. Cussing me out.” Nutsbe paused with a lopsided smile, but Olivia could see he was trying to wrangle his emotions.
“You should also probably know,” his voice had turned husky, “that my Nan was a rule breaker. She liked to drink and liked to smoke. So she didn’t look like an angel with wings and a halo. She was herself with white hair and long red nails, cigarette in her fingers, highball in hand.” He shook a finger in the air and made his voice wobble. ‘What’s wrong with you? You know what to do. Get your tourniquets on your legs.’” Nutsbe quickly turned to look at the judge, then back. “She said, ‘It’s not your time, young man. Don’t you even think about it. Get yourself out of this junk pile and get yourself moving to the north. Move it.’ I did as I was told. In my household, growing up, the kids didn’t ever ignore Nan. I wasn’t about to start ignoring her then. Olivia,” he put his hand over his heart, “she saved my life. Everyone who was with me was already dead. I was lying there in shock. I wouldn’t have crawled off my X if it hadn’t been for her. Wouldn’t have gotten far enough away when the second RPG hit the wreckage, nor when the Taliban moved in to make sure the job was complete. That’s that part of the story.”
“That’s crazy wonderful.” Olivia wasn’t blinking.
“Wanna hear something even more freaky?” He popped his brow at her.
“Absolutely.” She wanted to know everything about this man.
Right now, Olivia was filled with profound gratitude for Nutsbe’s grandmother.
“One of the marines later told me that an old lady in a pink pantsuit had told him where to find me in the trees. The marine scanned over to where she was pointing, and when he turned back to ask how she got out there in the middle of nowhere, she was gone. Why was a woman in pink pants in the middle of Afghanistan? He said he was afraid she’d set him up for an ambush, so they went in slow. He was able to describe her to me. It was Nan. It was definitely Nan.”
Olivia believed his story with every fiber of her being. But the implications of that belief … She’d have to think long and hard about all of this. His story was overwhelming, all of it. “I am retrospectively terrified for you. What? How?”