Page 7
Story: Handling Haven
Panic was setting in again. Ignoring her friends, who were now both trying to calm her down with words that were no longer making sense to her, sheripped her hand from Jordyn’s grasp and threw the covers off her legs. She gaped at them, willing them to move, but they didn’t even twitch. A sob rose within her as tears rolled down her cheeks.This can’t be happening! They’re wrong! Oh, God!
CHAPTER 6
Two Months Later. . .
You wanted to see me, Captain?”
Ghost looked up from the pile of paperwork on his desk. “Yeah, Frisco. Come in and close the door. Have a seat.”
Relaxing at the use of his nickname and not his rank, Frisco did as ordered and sat on one of the two gray, utility chairs across from the other man. He’d been a little surprised when his own captain had told him to report to Bryson’s office. While they were in the same squadron and troop, Frisco was on a different team. However, they often trained together and went on the same missions depending on the number of Deltas needed. In fact, twenty minutesago, he’d been in the base’s gym where a bunch of guys from both teams had been working out. He’d just come out of the shower and thrown on a pair of tan BDUs—Battle Dress Uniform, the military’s version of cargo pants—and a green “ARMY” T-shirt when his captain had told him to get his ass over here. Now, he waited patiently for the reason why.
Leaning back in his rolling desk chair, Ghost stared at him. “I got a call a little while ago that I thought you might be interested in.”
“From whom?” He wracked his brains trying to think of anything he might be in trouble over, but he drew a blank. Plus the captain didn’t appear pissed ... more like bothered.
“A man with one name.”
Carter. On the flight back to the States in the Trident Security jet, Frisco had learned a little bit more about T. Carter. Not much, but enough to know nobody knew what the T stood for, except maybe his woman, and he had a knack for being in the right place at the right time when people he cared about were in trouble. Frisco had also found out that as far as anyone not on the mission was concerned, the man didn’t even exist. Being on Delta, Frisco knew all about not beingable to tell anyone who he was and what he and his teammates did for their country. The only time he’d ever be able to tell anyone he was on Delta Force was if he had a wife, and even then, he wouldn’t be able to tell her much past that—not that he was getting married anytime soon. Hell, he wasn’t even dating anyone. And ever since that clusterfuck in India, he’d had a hard time thinking about any woman other than Haven. It’d been two months, and the only thing he’d been told was that after two weeks in the Landstuhl Medical Center, she’d been transported back somewhere in the US and was recovering. What that entailed, he had no idea.
Frisco sat up a little straighter. “About Haven?”
Picking up a Post-it note from his desk, Ghost reached across and handed it to him. “Apparently, Agent Caldwell is rehabbing not too far from us. She’s over in Temple, at Everest Rehabilitation Hospital, and our friend thought you might want to visit her.”
His heart thumped faster in his chest at the thought of seeing her again. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head and had even been dreaming of her at night. At first, they’d been nightmares—reliving the moment she’d been shot and then her begging him to leave her to die. The anguish in herbrown eyes haunted him. Then at some point, his dreams had changed. They’d turned erotic. She’d no longer been lying in pain on that lawn, covered in blood, soot, and dirt. Instead, she’d been gloriously naked, inviting him into her bed. The first morning he’d woken up from one of those dreams with his hand around his stiff and throbbing cock, he’d been mortified. She’d been badly injured and paralyzed—which he hoped was temporary as the surgeon had suggested—and all his subconscious mind and body wanted to do was imagine her straddling his hips and riding him hard.
He was tempted to jump out of the chair and run to the door—the hospital was only about a half hour away—but he was under the impression the captain had more to say, so he forced himself to remain seated.
“This is off the record—not Captain to Sergeant. This is Ghost to Frisco, all right?” When Frisco nodded, he continued. “Are you okay with everything that happened that night? I know I asked you that on the plane and a few days after we got back, but ... from what Hollywood told me, Haven wanted you to leave her there. That had to be tough.”
It shouldn’t be a surprise Ghost was asking him about it, but this was the first timeFrisco was aware, despite everything happening at the time, that anyone else had overheard her pleas. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Obviously, there was no way I was leaving her, but ... Jesus, Ghost, the look in her eyes when she realized she couldn’t move her legs—I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. I also can’t help but think I made things worse with the roll, then running with her bouncing on my shoulder.”
Leaning forward, the captain rested his arms on the desk in front of him. “Frisco, you didn’t have a choice. If Hollywood had been the first one on his knees, and you were covering his six, he would’ve done the same thing.Iwould have done the same thing, and so would every other Delta out there. You can’t live in the world of what-ifs when you didn’t have a choice. You got her out of there alive, and she’s got a fighting chance because of it.” He paused. “To tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure if I was going to pass that message onto you.”
Frisco’s eyes narrowed. “Why not?”
“Well, apparently, she’s having a hard time dealing with everything. Instead of fighting to get back on her feet, Carter believes she’s given up, like the doctor said some people do. But for some reason, he thinks a visit from you might help. Don’t ask why, because I have no idea. I stopped trying to questionhis thought process a long time ago. But he knows her a lot better than we do. It’s up to you if you want to go.”
“I do.” There had been no hesitation in his answer, even though he was as confused as Ghost about what Carter thought he’d accomplish by going to visit her. However, there was no way he was looking a gift horse in the mouth. He was finally going to see the woman he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. Maybe he should go and get some flowers for her ... a get-well bouquet or something. Or maybe a teddy bear or balloons from the hospital gift shop. He mentally shook his head. No, those weren’t anything a kick-ass woman like Haven would appreciate. He’d have to give it some thought on the way there. And he was definitely going straight there as soon as this conversation was over.
“All right,” Ghost said with a nod. “I just hope it doesn’t blow up in your face.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, don’t go there expecting too much. She may not want to see you.”
Frisco hadn’t thought about that. Hell, he wasn’t even sure she’d remember him—she’d been conscious for no more than three or four minutes in his presence and filled with painand fear. Well, he wouldn’t know until he saw her, and now the urge to go running to the hospital was even stronger. He needed to see her. Was it because of his guilty feelings that maybe he’d caused more damage to her spine than the bullet? Or was it something more?
CHAPTER 7
That fucking hurts, bitch.”Haven knew the real bitch was her, but she just wanted the physical therapist to stop manipulating her legs. There was no point for them to put her through this day after day. She’d never walk again. Hell, she couldn’t even go to the bathroom without assistance.
“Muscles have a way of being vindictive if you don’t keep using them,” the thirty-something blonde responded, just like she’d done twice a day for the past six weeks. She brought Haven’s left leg up and bent it, then stretched the quadriceps, pushing her knee toward her chest. “You may have given up on your walking again, but I haven’t. You’ve got to stop putting yourself down. Your life is far from over, and one of these days you’ll realize you’ve got a lot to livefor. No one’s going to think less of you because of your limitations, so there’s no reason for you to. For as long as you’re here, you’re stuck with me doing these exercises to help keep your muscles healthy and strong, and get you moving again. If not, atrophy will set in.”
Haven scowled at the woman. “Screw you. Don’t tell me how I should feel. Until you’re lying in a bed next to me, unable to stand or walk, then you have no fucking idea how I feel. I’d rather be dead than stuck here, helpless and in excruciating pain.”
It’d taken a few days in Landstuhl for Haven to realize the doctors had been right—what she’d been feeling at first had been “phantom pain.” From the waist down, it’d all been in her head. She’d watched them stick her feet and legs with sharp instruments, trying to elicit a response, and each time, she’d willed her lower limbs to respond, but it hadn’t happened. People thought when a person became paralyzed they didn’t feel anything, but many times, the brain filled in the blanks. It knew its body was injured and should be in pain, so it provided a fake substitute, which was just as bad, if not more so, as if it had been true.
Four weeks ago, she’d started getting sensation back, all the way to her feet, but it felt like athousand ants were crawling up and down her legs, and she was hypersensitive to touch. It was even worse during these stupid therapy sessions. The doctors had told her it would begin to fade as the swelling and bruising around her spine continued to heal, but after four weeks, it hadn’t happened, and she didn’t think it ever would.
CHAPTER 6
Two Months Later. . .
You wanted to see me, Captain?”
Ghost looked up from the pile of paperwork on his desk. “Yeah, Frisco. Come in and close the door. Have a seat.”
Relaxing at the use of his nickname and not his rank, Frisco did as ordered and sat on one of the two gray, utility chairs across from the other man. He’d been a little surprised when his own captain had told him to report to Bryson’s office. While they were in the same squadron and troop, Frisco was on a different team. However, they often trained together and went on the same missions depending on the number of Deltas needed. In fact, twenty minutesago, he’d been in the base’s gym where a bunch of guys from both teams had been working out. He’d just come out of the shower and thrown on a pair of tan BDUs—Battle Dress Uniform, the military’s version of cargo pants—and a green “ARMY” T-shirt when his captain had told him to get his ass over here. Now, he waited patiently for the reason why.
Leaning back in his rolling desk chair, Ghost stared at him. “I got a call a little while ago that I thought you might be interested in.”
“From whom?” He wracked his brains trying to think of anything he might be in trouble over, but he drew a blank. Plus the captain didn’t appear pissed ... more like bothered.
“A man with one name.”
Carter. On the flight back to the States in the Trident Security jet, Frisco had learned a little bit more about T. Carter. Not much, but enough to know nobody knew what the T stood for, except maybe his woman, and he had a knack for being in the right place at the right time when people he cared about were in trouble. Frisco had also found out that as far as anyone not on the mission was concerned, the man didn’t even exist. Being on Delta, Frisco knew all about not beingable to tell anyone who he was and what he and his teammates did for their country. The only time he’d ever be able to tell anyone he was on Delta Force was if he had a wife, and even then, he wouldn’t be able to tell her much past that—not that he was getting married anytime soon. Hell, he wasn’t even dating anyone. And ever since that clusterfuck in India, he’d had a hard time thinking about any woman other than Haven. It’d been two months, and the only thing he’d been told was that after two weeks in the Landstuhl Medical Center, she’d been transported back somewhere in the US and was recovering. What that entailed, he had no idea.
Frisco sat up a little straighter. “About Haven?”
Picking up a Post-it note from his desk, Ghost reached across and handed it to him. “Apparently, Agent Caldwell is rehabbing not too far from us. She’s over in Temple, at Everest Rehabilitation Hospital, and our friend thought you might want to visit her.”
His heart thumped faster in his chest at the thought of seeing her again. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head and had even been dreaming of her at night. At first, they’d been nightmares—reliving the moment she’d been shot and then her begging him to leave her to die. The anguish in herbrown eyes haunted him. Then at some point, his dreams had changed. They’d turned erotic. She’d no longer been lying in pain on that lawn, covered in blood, soot, and dirt. Instead, she’d been gloriously naked, inviting him into her bed. The first morning he’d woken up from one of those dreams with his hand around his stiff and throbbing cock, he’d been mortified. She’d been badly injured and paralyzed—which he hoped was temporary as the surgeon had suggested—and all his subconscious mind and body wanted to do was imagine her straddling his hips and riding him hard.
He was tempted to jump out of the chair and run to the door—the hospital was only about a half hour away—but he was under the impression the captain had more to say, so he forced himself to remain seated.
“This is off the record—not Captain to Sergeant. This is Ghost to Frisco, all right?” When Frisco nodded, he continued. “Are you okay with everything that happened that night? I know I asked you that on the plane and a few days after we got back, but ... from what Hollywood told me, Haven wanted you to leave her there. That had to be tough.”
It shouldn’t be a surprise Ghost was asking him about it, but this was the first timeFrisco was aware, despite everything happening at the time, that anyone else had overheard her pleas. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Obviously, there was no way I was leaving her, but ... Jesus, Ghost, the look in her eyes when she realized she couldn’t move her legs—I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. I also can’t help but think I made things worse with the roll, then running with her bouncing on my shoulder.”
Leaning forward, the captain rested his arms on the desk in front of him. “Frisco, you didn’t have a choice. If Hollywood had been the first one on his knees, and you were covering his six, he would’ve done the same thing.Iwould have done the same thing, and so would every other Delta out there. You can’t live in the world of what-ifs when you didn’t have a choice. You got her out of there alive, and she’s got a fighting chance because of it.” He paused. “To tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure if I was going to pass that message onto you.”
Frisco’s eyes narrowed. “Why not?”
“Well, apparently, she’s having a hard time dealing with everything. Instead of fighting to get back on her feet, Carter believes she’s given up, like the doctor said some people do. But for some reason, he thinks a visit from you might help. Don’t ask why, because I have no idea. I stopped trying to questionhis thought process a long time ago. But he knows her a lot better than we do. It’s up to you if you want to go.”
“I do.” There had been no hesitation in his answer, even though he was as confused as Ghost about what Carter thought he’d accomplish by going to visit her. However, there was no way he was looking a gift horse in the mouth. He was finally going to see the woman he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. Maybe he should go and get some flowers for her ... a get-well bouquet or something. Or maybe a teddy bear or balloons from the hospital gift shop. He mentally shook his head. No, those weren’t anything a kick-ass woman like Haven would appreciate. He’d have to give it some thought on the way there. And he was definitely going straight there as soon as this conversation was over.
“All right,” Ghost said with a nod. “I just hope it doesn’t blow up in your face.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, don’t go there expecting too much. She may not want to see you.”
Frisco hadn’t thought about that. Hell, he wasn’t even sure she’d remember him—she’d been conscious for no more than three or four minutes in his presence and filled with painand fear. Well, he wouldn’t know until he saw her, and now the urge to go running to the hospital was even stronger. He needed to see her. Was it because of his guilty feelings that maybe he’d caused more damage to her spine than the bullet? Or was it something more?
CHAPTER 7
That fucking hurts, bitch.”Haven knew the real bitch was her, but she just wanted the physical therapist to stop manipulating her legs. There was no point for them to put her through this day after day. She’d never walk again. Hell, she couldn’t even go to the bathroom without assistance.
“Muscles have a way of being vindictive if you don’t keep using them,” the thirty-something blonde responded, just like she’d done twice a day for the past six weeks. She brought Haven’s left leg up and bent it, then stretched the quadriceps, pushing her knee toward her chest. “You may have given up on your walking again, but I haven’t. You’ve got to stop putting yourself down. Your life is far from over, and one of these days you’ll realize you’ve got a lot to livefor. No one’s going to think less of you because of your limitations, so there’s no reason for you to. For as long as you’re here, you’re stuck with me doing these exercises to help keep your muscles healthy and strong, and get you moving again. If not, atrophy will set in.”
Haven scowled at the woman. “Screw you. Don’t tell me how I should feel. Until you’re lying in a bed next to me, unable to stand or walk, then you have no fucking idea how I feel. I’d rather be dead than stuck here, helpless and in excruciating pain.”
It’d taken a few days in Landstuhl for Haven to realize the doctors had been right—what she’d been feeling at first had been “phantom pain.” From the waist down, it’d all been in her head. She’d watched them stick her feet and legs with sharp instruments, trying to elicit a response, and each time, she’d willed her lower limbs to respond, but it hadn’t happened. People thought when a person became paralyzed they didn’t feel anything, but many times, the brain filled in the blanks. It knew its body was injured and should be in pain, so it provided a fake substitute, which was just as bad, if not more so, as if it had been true.
Four weeks ago, she’d started getting sensation back, all the way to her feet, but it felt like athousand ants were crawling up and down her legs, and she was hypersensitive to touch. It was even worse during these stupid therapy sessions. The doctors had told her it would begin to fade as the swelling and bruising around her spine continued to heal, but after four weeks, it hadn’t happened, and she didn’t think it ever would.