Page 106
He knew where that would lead and no way was he going to let that happen.
His leg was fucked, but it was his leg and, goddammit, they were not going to take it from him.
It was the only thing he lasted long enough to say between bouts of consciousness.
“Do not take my leg.”
He said it over and over, over and over. The doctors would say We’re doing the best we can, Lieutenant, and he’d say, “Goddammit, do not take my leg!”
Then he’d be gone again.
He lost track of the number of times they operated. Of the drugs they gave him.
Last time, he’d fought the drugs. He’d seen what happened when the drugs took you. Guys in the ward. Guys on the res. Addiction was addiction whether you had it dripped into your arm in a hospital or you shot up on the street, and he wasn’t that going to go that route.
This time…this time, he pressed the button on the PCA hooked into him until they told him he’d used up his allotted dose of happy juice and he’d have to wait to get more.
Really? Then what was the point of a patient controlled analgesic delivery system? he growled, except the words came out a pathetic whisper and all he got for his plea was another visit from an overworked resident who did more poking and prodding until Tanner bit through his lip to keep from screaming.
It was better when he was under.
The pain was gone, sure, but it was more than that.
When he was under, he dreamed.
Of her.
Alessandra.
Alessandra, in his arms. Alessandra, smiling at him across the kitchen table. Alessandra, standing before the mirror, naked, and him coming up behind her, pressing his body against hers, his hands cupping her breasts, his mouth against the nape of her neck, her sweet sigh as she leaned back against him…
“Lieutenant.”
The feel of her. Her softness. Her scent…
“Lieutenant Akecheta. Can you hear me?”
A woman’s voice.
“Alessandra?” Tanner whispered.
A cool hand swept over his forehead.
“He’s burning up,” the voice said.
“Alessandra. Sweetheart…”
“Temp is one-oh-four,” a brisk male voice said. “I want him in surgery. Stat.”
“Sweetheart. I didn’t mean what I said.”
“Hush,” the female voice said. Gentle fingers meshed with his. “You’re going to be fine, Lieutenant. Just fine.”
“I didn’t mean it,” Tanner said, “didn’t mean it. I love you, Alessandra. I love you…”
“Hang on, dude. You hear me? Just hang on.”
Chay’s voice. Chay’s rough hand gripping his.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106 (Reading here)
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126