Fragged: A BWWM Military Romance (5 page)

“Visiting my patient. He
is
my patient.”

“Why’d they even give him to you?” I said. “It was nothing to do with his heart.”

Lem shrugged. “I just asked for a few additional minor cases.”

My schedule had been up since yesterday. I was sure every one of his extra cases just happened to be on my rotation.

“Ever heard that absence makes the heart grow fonder?” I asked.

“I never bought it,” he said, matching my stride.

“That’s too bad. I think it could really work here.”

“I’ve been trying that for a year, my dear.” He stopped at the room door and winked. “Besides, I’m only here for the patient.”

It was good that I’d sobered up on Calix. The last thing I needed was Lem seeing me doe-eyed for another man after turning him aside. He could make things tough here. His family had its freaking name on the pediatric wing.

He still hadn’t talked to Calix by the time I got in. He was reading the patient record, but he seemed more interested in the police clearance. I dropped the meds on the tray and rattled them.

“Your antibiotics,” I said.

Calix simply nodded and mimed for water. Even a few minutes away had cleared my head. I stood mesmerized just watching his thick chest rise and fall.

Lem’s hand landed suddenly on mine. “Now, hold on, love. I’m still looking through the man’s charts.”

I tried to tug my hand away, but his grip had turned into a boulder.

“What?” I said.

“I’m still thinking.”

This was stupid. I bit my tongue, but I gave an insistent jerk. My hand budged, but he was still stronger.

His finger tapped my skin.

I stared mutely out the window, trying to stay calm. This was a definite escalation. Should I fight? Should I report him? Or was he just waiting for me to do that?

Suddenly, the weight came off. Lem grunted.

“There we go,” Calix said. He had pick Lem off and folded his hand back against the wrist. I darted away, and he let go.

Lem turned on him. “Did you just assault me?”

“I was just trying to get my meds.”

Lem hunched in close to Calix’s face, all shriveled up with rage. “If you ever lay hands on me again, you will leave here in handcuffs.”

Calix simply looked at him, a tiger watching a hissing housecat. He nodded once.

“Understood. I just didn’t want to delay.”

Lem tore out of the room, rubbing his wrist. I was lucky enough not to get a single glance more.

“Thank you,” I said, a flood of warmth running through me. “You saved me more trouble than you know.”

Calix held up an empty cup. “How about some water then?”

I chuckled and got it for him. He held my eyes while he chugged the pills, then lay back with his arms folded.

“They didn’t treat their women right at all over there,” he said. “That was one thing I could never get used to among our so-called allies.”

“In Afghanistan?”

He nodded. “Just to the east of the country is China. Over there, they have a saying. Women hold up half the sky.” He shook his head. “Strange how two kinds of people can be right next to each other and think so far apart.”

I sat back on the sill, a strange mix of things in my chest. “I didn’t take you for a philosopher.”

“I’m nothing without my principles.”

He squinted at me, as if I had turned into someone else before him. His eyes shut and he dipped his head. “I’m going to nap.”

His brow was all furrowed though, like he was already in some dark dream. I hoped it was at something in his past and not aimed at me.

“Sleep tight, teddy bear,” I whispered. “And thanks again.”

I tiptoed out and stumbled down the hall. I still couldn’t really believe what had happened. Or what Calix had done for me.

Was it for me?

Maybe not. But even after my shift ended, even after I went home and told Mamá and Elsa that my day was fine, even as I lay in my bed, I remembered those crystal eyes studying me, seeing me for who I was.

They seemed more unsure of me than I was of him. I could hardly tell why.

But unsure was still better than nothing. It meant that part of him felt the same thing I felt.

I could only hope it was the bigger part.

CHAPTER FOUR

Calix

I blurred in and out of sleep most of that Monday. My leg throbbed like there was something inside trying to nudge its way out. It kept me from getting too deep into sleep.

Even when I did fade, my dreams were full of Rosa.

They were not innocent dreams.

The only big disruption was a call from my commanding officer, Sgt. Lilton. I’d flapped awake, still not completely myself.

“You
shot
yourself?” were his first words when I picked up.

“Sergeant? Yeah. Yes. It was a dumb mistake, sir.”

“Sir? I work for a living, Black.”

“Of course, Sergeant.” I rubbed my face. “My mistake.”

“That is the undoubtedly the first mistake I have ever witnessed you make. Where’s your head, Corporal? Are you up in some shit?”

“No.”

Another lie. Each seemed a magnet for the next.

He sighed heavily. “Don’t fuck with me, Corporal.”

“No fucking, Sergeant.”

“Well, the hospital says you’re mostly ok. How do you feel?”

“The leg was barely grazed. I’ll be checking out in short time.”

“Listen to the doctors and take your time. ”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“Alright. Montego will be coming down to start his investigation. You can talk, right?”

Shit.

Of course this was coming. I just thought my independent arrival here would delay it until I could get to base.

Montego headed up the Military Police at McPherson. He’d just come back from South Korea, where they took that job very seriously. I didn’t want that Latino hound dog anywhere near the bullet.

“Sergeant, I can be back at the base tomorrow. I prefer to rest today.”

“There’s no rush to come back. He just wants to talk, that’s all.”

“I’d prefer to work.”

A perilous moment came and went.

Lilton chuckled. “Boy, I sure hope you didn’t fuck up. You’ve got a long way to rise here with work ethic like that. Alright, we’ll see you here tomorrow.”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

I set the phone down and stared at it. Montego must be digging already. Lilton’s words were no guarantee that he wouldn’t come collect the bullet. The hospital might have already sent it to him.

I reminded myself it would tell him nothing, but I didn’t want loose ends. Not with my people’s freedom on the line. I needed to head back and keep his attention away from here.

I tested my leg. A light twist and the throb turned into a barely-contained howl.

After dinner, I took the pain meds.

They swept me out over a warm lake. My body felt weightless, like I was floating on nothing. My mind stilled and I could sleep.

I drifted into a dreamscape dark in mood, dark in color. Rosa seemed nowhere in sight. I walked through the brush lands of Afghanistan at night.

The wind shifted in an unnatural whirl. I turned around. A ghostly silhouette tracked me, a swirling mass of scarves and sheer cloth. When it came close, I could see Rosa’s face emerge from shadow, see her small nose, her lush mouth.

But she was never bare to me. Darkness always shrouded her.

I felt no fear, but I kept moving towards the empty horizon ahead. In my mind I walked for days, with her always at my back.

I woke at a proper hour, feeling more rested. Again though, my phone was buzzing. I checked the screen. It was my father.

“Is it safe to talk?” he asked in his low, sonorous voice.

“This is my military number,” I reminded him. I had left my own phone in the saddle of my bike, parked in a garage nearby. I didn’t trust it wouldn’t be taken as evidence.

“I see,” he said. “How have things been going?”

“I’m doing well. The wound was minor as far as bullets go.”

“That’s good, Calix.” His voice didn’t warm a degree. “How about other matters?”

“The police came by. There was nothing for them to find, of course.”

“Very good. I’m gladdened to hear this.”

His silence lingered. Eventually, he said. “Well, I’ll pray for your recovery. We’ll talk when you are out.”

I wondered what he would have asked if the line was private. He was no detective or doctor. He could offer no advice on the bullet or suggestions for my health.

Maybe he wanted to apologize for persuading me to accept the operation that landed me here.

The Storm’s Soldiers’ president, Homer, had mentioned what he wanted from me so casually. It was just ‘another drug run’ for him. It was entirely new to me.

This was not the club I knew before I had left to enlist. I might have turned him down, but when I met with my father later for dinner, he had persuaded me it was for the cause.

Everything was justified for the cause. We both understood that.

But it didn’t mean the cause could justify a stupid action. I was starting to understand just where that train of thinking had landed my old crew in the two years I’d been away.

When I’d left the Storm’s Soldiers MC, the whole gun-running operations was in shambles. Our only client, the big Cartel operation in Atlanta, was gouging us on prices. As a result, our suppliers at the army base had dropped out. They hadn’t been in it on principle, just for a cut of the spoils.

I’d enlisted with the aim to get back to McPherson on the inside and pick up where we left off. The odds were low. The risks were high and numerous - disability, death, torture by a foreign enemy I had little quarrel with.

I needed an exemplary service record to get back here, so I performed. Not for the money but for the cause. The Soldiers were supposed to find more buyers.

Instead, they turned to dealing meth. The Cartel didn’t like competition.

Homer tried to justify it all with money. The bodies, the police attention, the vileness of dealing drugs. He’d even won over my father. But it was not the thing I’d signed up for.

I would not help, but I would never turn them over either. I would protect the cause as I always had.

I just didn’t know to what ends anymore.

I tested my leg again after breakfast. The knife blade had shrunk to a stiletto. I popped a pill and turned tentatively over the edge of the bed. My legs dangled like puppets after just days of disuse. I’d have to be careful.

I eased myself onto the floor, good leg, then bad. I shuffled through a few steps, equalizing the weight with each move. The room swayed under my pill haze, but the pain stayed dull. This would be fine as long as I stayed on desk duty.

My clothes lay nearby. I had just finished dressing when footsteps shuffled to a stop nearby.

“What in the hell are you doing?”

Rosa stood at the door, dressed in a moss green gown. Her dark hair was held back in a slick ponytail. She was panting as if she’d run over from some procedure.

Even seeing like this made it hard to leave. It was good I couldn’t remember my dreams.

“I’m going to go,” I said.

“You were shot just two days ago. You’re nowhere near ready to go.”

She gripped the sides of the door, her face prickling with irritation. She looked like a sweet dark cactus, firmly rooted. I wondered whether I could lift her out of the way.

Then I wondered if I would be able to set her back down.

“I shot myself,” I said quickly. “It was minor. Get someone to discharge me.”

“Mr. Black, you are not recovered.”

“Bring the doctor,” I said. “Do I need to call a different nurse?”

Her anger collapsed like a paper structure. She looked afraid and wounded.

I couldn’t stand the sight. I couldn’t stand having caused the sight. I had the apology on my lips before I caught myself.

This was why I didn’t want meds.

“Why won’t you let me help you?” Rosa said.

“You’re not going to fix me,” I said. “That’s my body’s job. I’d rather pass the time somewhere other than here.”

Her mood darkened. I remembered yesterday. What was this about? It ran deeper than just the death of her father. I wanted to know.

“Do you need more help with that doctor?” I asked. “I can talk with him.”

“No! That’s not necessary.”

“So you’ll be fine without me.”

“I’ll manage. Yesterday was…fun. But it’s not a good long term plan.”

She was smiling faintly though, lost in memory.

“I would have done a better job if I wasn’t bedridden,” I said. “Or if I was somewhere less public.”