Page 10

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 minutes ago, 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 being able 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 her brown 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 time Frisco 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.

I would 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 question his 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 pain and 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?