Page 39

Chapter 39

Cate

I jerked awake, fighting against the ties holding me down. “Jay?” My voice sounded more frog than human.

The bright light filling the warm room, blinded me.

“Shh, Catelyn, it’s okay.”

Pain and fear flooded my system as I remembered getting shot.

The beeping picked up speed along with my heartbeat.

Dear God, make it stop.

“ You’re safe, in the hospital.”

Hospital.

“Jaden?” I asked, my voice low and gritty. “Where’s Jay?”

“He’s fine. He went home.”

Thank God he was okay. Wait. He went home? When? I swore I heard him talking to me earlier. I leaned back and tried blocking out the noise so I could think .

Holy shit! “Dad?” I asked, sitting up too fast and immediately regretting it.

“Has it been so long you don’t recognize me?” His laugh sounded forced.

“No, sorry, I just. I…”

“It’s okay. Waking up to me is probably a bit of a shock.”

It was, and yet, it wasn’t. We weren’t close, but my father had been there for every major milestone in my life. Of course he rushed to my side when he heard I was shot. The shock was how quickly he’d gotten here.

“I’m glad you’re here.” The words didn’t adequately express what I felt but everything hurt and my mind felt like mush, so forming complex sentences was beyond my ability. When I asked him what day it was, he said Sunday.

I’d lost a full day.

I yawned, just as knock on the door sounded.

A nurse walked in, asking, “How are you feeling?”

How am I feeling? What kind of question was that? I’d been beaten within an inch of my life, starved, drugged, and shot.

I felt like shit.

My face must have given me away because she said, “Your face just answered me, so no point in lying.”

Guilty. I would’ve lied so my father didn’t worry.

“What are you giving me?” I asked as she used a syringe to add something to my IV line.

“Morphine. Your body took a lot of abuse and you’ll heal faster if you aren’t in pain,” she answered.

That made sense. She kicked my father out of the room to change my bandages. My eye lids felt like lead weights, so I closed them and drifted back to painless, nightmare-free sleep before she was done.

I woke to the sound of two voices. My father and John Sheppard.

Grateful my mind felt semi-normal and I could think clearly, I pretended to be asleep and listened.

It wasn’t hard for me to imagine the guarded expression on my father’s stoic face as John filled him in.

“Thank you for not holding back,” my father said, his voice strained. It sounded like he clapped John on the shoulder.

“You’re welcome, sir.” It was the first time I’d heard John defer to anyone. But then, John was a marine and my father was a three-star general, so it shouldn’t have been surprising.

“How’s your son?”

“Recovering, thanks for asking.”

“Catelyn asked for him when she woke up last night.” There was a pause, making me wish I could see them. “Is there something between them I should know about?”

“Not that I know of, but you should probably ask Cate,” John said, surprising me by not only using my first name, but the less formal version of it.

“Seems to me you know more than you’re letting on.” He accused John.

“What I suspect and what I know are two very different things, sir.” John laid the sarcasm on thick. “And it’s not mine to share, regardless.”

My boss talking back to my father, after showing deference only a moment before almost made me laugh .

John ruled the office, and his family, with nothing more than a firm tone of voice. But that wouldn’t work on my father, a man accustomed to having his orders followed before he finished giving them.

Neither man was easily intimidated, and while John would show my father every respect, he wouldn’t back down when it came to his family.

I squinted to watch their body language, but my eyes felt like I’d rubbed them with sandpaper—blurring everything and preventing me from seeing the nuances I needed to assess the energy between them. The last thing I wanted was for my father and my boss to butt heads.

My father’s nod, as he dismissed John, was big enough for me to see.

John’s acknowledging nod was just as big. “We’re right outside if you need us, Cate.”

Again using my first name. He’s never called me Cate .

Duh, he couldn’t call me Maxwell when there were two of us in the room.

Shit. He knows I’m awake . My eyes snapped up to meet John’s.

“Thank you, sir,” I croaked out just above a whisper.

I hated sounding so weak but nothing in my body was working as well as it should.

My father turned around so he didn’t see John wink before he left.

“Hi, Dad,” I said.

“How much did you hear?” He asked, as he hurried to my side .

Reaching for his hand, I said, “I’m glad you’re here.” Lacking the physical or mental strength to sound stoic, my voice hitched with emotion as tears threatened to spill over.

Never comfortable with feelings, he changed the subject.

“You seem more alert. How are you feeling?”

“Not painful, but weak.” Moving too much or too fast reminded me of my wounds, so I mostly laid still.

He chuckled at my awkward sentence. “The doctor said you’ll heal faster if you’re not in pain, so they’ve had you on a steady dose of morphine.”

When I tried to talk but coughed instead, he picked up a cup of water and held the straw to my lips bringing back memories of the rare times he’d comforted me when I was sick or hurt as a little girl. Reminding me that his distance wasn’t because he didn’t care, but because of his duty to the Corps.

The water soothed my parched throat as I sucked it down like a man possessed.

He pulled the straw away, causing me to drool on my chin. “Slow down.”

I nodded, but wanted more so I reached for the cup. Dad forced me to drink slowly, so it took a while but I finished every last drop. Sadly, the water did nothing to alleviate the hunger that made itself known with a loud rumble.

“I’ll page the nurse and ask her to bring you something to eat.”

While he did that, I wondered how long it’d be until Jay cam back. I had to make sure he was okay. Was he shot, too ?

The vivid memory of Franks firing at Jay sucked the air from my lungs.

“She’ll bring you something in a few minutes.” Dad’s voice cut into my thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just bad memories.” I focused on my breathing to bring my heartrate back to normal, which slowed down the infernal beeping.

“I’m here if you want or need to talk.”

“Thanks.” Then, despite not wanting to hear the answer, in case it was only a few hours, I asked, “How long are you staying?”

“I took three days leave, with the option of extending it if needed.”

Wow. I assumed he’d need to go back to work sooner rather than later.

He looked me over. “And from the look of things, it’s needed.”

“John didn’t say how badly I was injured when he called?” I assumed it was John who called him.

“He said you were hurt and in surgery. I was already on a plane when he called to tell me you were out of surgery, and expected to make a full recovery.” He paused and collected himself before continuing, “I just now learned what hell you went through prior to being shot.”

Knowing I was the reason for the fear, anger, and pain in his eyes was more than I could handle, so I looked away. The gunshot wound was bad, no denying that, but the sleep deprivation, starvation, abuse, and drugs were what did the most damage to my body. I was half-grateful John had filled him in so I didn’t have to. I also half wished he hadn’t, so I had the choice of never telling him.

When the nurse brought my lunch, Dad asked if the doctor had an ETA for when I could be discharged. The nurse didn’t know, but said she’d send the doctor in to talk to us.

The chicken noodle soup was more broth than chicken and the dry roll was bland but it was the first meal I’d had in days. Which meant it tasted like heaven.

The doctor came in as I was sipping the last of my broth.

“Miss Maxwell, it’s good to see you awake. How’s the pain level?” she asked.

“Please, call me Cate,” I said. “And I’m too drugged up to feel much, so good.”

She chuckled. “We can cut back the dosage tomorrow, as long as the pain is manageable.”

“Thanks. When do you think I can leave?”

“I’d like to keep you one more night.”

My protests were useless, because my father sided with the doctor.

“It’s for your own good, Catelyn.”

Did they tell Jay the same thing? If they had, how come he went home? I’ll ask him when he gets here . Turning my attention back to the doctor, I nodded my consent.

“If things look good tomorrow, we’ll send you home. As long as you have someone who can stay with you.”

“I’ll be with her,” my father said. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

“Good,” the doctor said. “We’ll provide all the details at discharge. ”

I yawned, and then tried to shake my head to wake myself up, making me dizzy.

“Don’t fight the urge to sleep. Your body needs it.” The doctor sounded more like she was issuing an order than giving a suggestion.

I want to stay awake so I can see Jay. They said he was okay, but I wanted, needed, to see it for myself.

And I want to thank him . I couldn’t have gotten through the ordeal without him.

My big, loud yawn irritated my bruised split lips; I wouldn’t be awake much longer.

“Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.” My father’s words were the last thing I heard before sleep claimed me.

The nurse checking my vitals a few hours later woke me up. When I looked around, I couldn’t see my dad. Did he get called back to DC? My heart raced as I looked around the room. Surely he wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.

“He went to grab a coffee. He’ll be right back,” the nurse assured me. “Let’s get you cleaned up and change your gown before he does.”

Good idea . The quick sponge bath was painful despite the nurse’s attempt to be gentle. She apologized, but it wasn’t her fault. My face and torso were covered in cuts and bruises. My ribs were cracked and I had two holes from the bullet.

A soft knock signaled my father’s return. Or maybe it’s Jay.

“I’ll let him in,” the nurse said, grabbing the wash pan and my dirty gown.

“Thank you.”

It wasn’t Jay. Why hasn’t he come back ?

“Are you feeling better after your nap?” Dad asked, returning to my side.

“I am, and very well rested.” I chuckled. I’d slept more than I’d been awake. “Overly rested.”

“You need the rest to heal,” he said with a sad smile. “Especially if you want go home tomorrow.”

Considering myself gently chastised, I answered, “Yes, sir.” I added, “If you want, I can have John give you the keys to my apartment so you can stay there tonight.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“There’s no reason for you to pay for a hotel.”

“Catelyn, it’s not necessary because I’m staying here.” His voice didn’t give away his fear, but his eyes did, showing more emotion than I’d ever seen. Because I’ve never given him a reason to worry, not like this.

Knowing better than to argue, I said okay. Besides, it did my heart and soul good to know he wanted to stay.

“Did Jay ever come?” I asked.

“I haven’t seen him.” He didn’t offer more.

I turned to hide my disappointment. Maybe something happened and he couldn’t come back. Is he okay? Maybe my drug addled brain made it up. Maybe Jay hadn’t said he’d come back.

“Catelyn? Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” I forced myself to smile as I turned to him. I’m sure he’s okay. He just got delayed. If I repeated it enough, I’d eventually believe it . I gave my father my full attention.

We talked off and on through the night. Sleep must have eluded him too, because he was alert anytime I woke up. He told me about the current happenings in DC, as much as he could, and how much he hated the political games that came with being stationed at the Pentagon.

It wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned hating the political aspect, though he rarely went into much detail. When he said he was considering retiring, I had to ask him to repeat himself.

My father loved the Marines. He always had, and I assumed he always would. When I said as much, he assured me he loved the Marines, but hated DC.

“I’m considering an instructor position,” he said.

I could see him as drill sergeant at Parris Island, whipping recruits into shape. I didn’t envy anyone with the good fortune to learn from him. Being in his recruit training unit would be hard, but they’d be better Marines for it.

“You’ll scare away all the recruits.” I laughed.

“I’ll whip their sorry asses into shape.”

My mind thought back to Jay and how gentle he’d been after I got my ass beat. Suggesting I sing to help keep from going crazy, when the alarm rang non-stop, was the first step of our new relationship.

Friendship, I corrected myself. I doubted Jay wanted more.

I didn’t realize I’d started humming The Marine Hymn until my father joined in. Comforted by his deep tones, I soon fell back to sleep.