Hung (40 page)

O
fficer Classified glances
down at Jake, who by now has completely tired of the conversation and is lying down licking his paws. "Jake too…"

C
hapter
Twenty Five - Mike

"
A
medical discharge
?" I repeat the words like I'd never heard them before – and in a way, I haven't. When you're in Delta, you kind of have this cocky arrogance about you – you know you're one of the fittest men your country can send into a war zone, with the best equipment, and you think that nothing will ever happen to you.

C
ertainly not a medical discharge when
, as far as I know, my leg's going to completely recover.

"
I
'm so sorry
, Mike – Officer Classified kind of spelled it out to me; he said either we do this, or your career is going to get railroaded by some politician in Washington…"

"
W
oah
, hold up a second," I say, literally holding a finger up into the air. "Who the hell's Officer Classified?"

A
little hint
of a smile crosses Katie's face, and right in that moment all I can think of is that I don't care, all I want to do is kiss it, and never stop, to go find some field somewhere and raise our kid in peace.

"
S
orry – it's
a silly little nickname I came up with because he was an officer, and he said…" She tails off.

"
L
et me guess
, that his name is classified?" I ask, allowing a smile across my face as well. "That's got Delta written all over it… Can I ask you a question?"

"
S
hoot
."

"
T
his Officer Classified
, did he have ridiculously green eyes? Like – so green you've never seen anything like them before?"

"
H
ow the hell
did you know that?" Katie says, visibly starting in front of me like she thinks I can read her mind or something.

"
H
e came
to see me a while back. I think we can trust him – I wasn't sure at the time. It was when I found out that Tommy was definitely dead," my voice breaks, and I realize I'm still not completely recovered from that particular tragedy, "but he's definitely Delta. And we look after our own. Shit."

"
S
hit
?" Katie asks. "Why? What's on your mind?"

“
I
f Delta are telling
me to do this, then there really is no other option. I know them; there isn't anyone better out there at what we do. They'll have it all figured out."

"
I
'm sorry
," Katie says softly, as though she's ashamed of herself, and the sound breaks me up inside. I resolve right then and there never to make her feel like that again – if she'll have me.

"
C
ome here
," I say, reaching out and taking her hand. I've been stuck in this drab little hospital room for over a day now, with nothing to do, and – other than Katie right now – no visitors allowed. She would look gorgeous to me no matter what time of day, month or year it was, but right now she looks incredible – a million dollars. She feels warm, and soft, and I thank my lucky stars that nothing happened to her before I could rescue her. I don't know how, but she's touched me like no other woman has ever managed. It's like –
damn, it feels soppy even thinking about it
– she's my fucking soul mate, or something.

S
he comes over towards me
, and as she nears me, I notice the skin under her eyes is ever so slightly puffy, and red from crying. Again, my heart twists inside my chest at the realization that, however unknowingly, I've hurt her. "Listen, none of this is your fault. Did you ask those bastards to kidnap you?"

S
he giggles
, and the sound tinkles through the room cutting the tension. "No – of course not!"

"
T
hen stop thinking
that any of this is your fault. Trust me, it's not. Seriously – I've never met anyone quite like you," I say, struggling to find the words in my emotional vocabulary that match the depth and range of what I'm feeling right now. I want her to understand how deeply I care about her, how even though losing my career is going to hurt, because it's all I've ever known, I'd drop it in a heartbeat if it meant staying with her, raising a child with her.
Hell, that actually sounds quite good…

"
A
ll I've ever wanted
to do is be a soldier, you know that?"

I
notice
a pained look in her eye, as though she thinks I'm blaming her, and I realize I'm seriously close to screwing up what I'm trying to say, so I hurry on. "But I've been there, done it. And you know what, maybe I do need to take some time to come to terms with Tommy's death. In all the missions I've been on, he's the only friend I've lost – the only close friend, anyway.

"
B
ut it's not just
that – and I’m serious when I say I've never met anyone like you. I've never met anyone who makes me feel, I dunno – I'm no good with words," I say, casting around for the right phrase, "– light inside."

T
he hospital room
is completely silent around us after I finish speaking, other than the odd beep from the heart rate monitor and a humming sound from the air conditioning unit, and for a second, a horribly long second, I begin to think I've said the wrong thing and a heavy weight of sadness starts settling on my shoulders.

"
N
o good with words
!" Katie finally exclaims, breaking the silence with a smile creasing her face. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"
U
m – no
?" I say, lamely.

"
M
ike
, that was beautiful. Seriously, no one's ever said anything like that about me before," she says, with such a look of honesty on her face that I know without a shadow of a doubt that she's telling the truth.

"
S
o
, uh," I stammer, suddenly palm-sweatingly nervous, and I can't help but think how stupid it is that I'm way more scared of this than I am of Taliban gunmen, "will you stick around with me – you know, when we get back home?"

"
S
eriously
, Mike – how many times do I have to say this – are you fucking kidding me? Of course I will!" She leans forward, her lips gently brushing against mine.

"
Y
ou know something
, Mike? I think I might be falling for you…"

C
hapter
Twenty Six - Mike

I
can't help
but smile broadly, the corners of my mouth almost reaching my ears as I see the return address on the thick yellow envelope I've just pulled out of the mailbox, but alongside that smile is a slight hint of concern. After making it this far, I don't know if I could take it if she doesn't succeed – not that that's really an option. After all, Katie's never relied on her looks – although she could – because she's about the most hard-working girl I've ever met.

T
he smudged letters
read "Denver Veterinary College" and they’re followed by an address that’s no longer visible, probably as a result of the early spring rain. All around me, the Rocky Mountains are still capped with white, and judging by our experience for the last two years – the two happiest years of my life – they'll stay that way almost until June, when the hot summer sun finally overwhelms them for a brief period before the harsh winter sets in again. About two hundred yards in front of me, Jake’s playing in the long grass with a half dozen almost identical dogs.

"
H
ey
, buddy," I call out, before jamming my fingers into my mouth and letting out a loud, ear piercing whistle, "time to go home!"

I
n the distance
, I see Jake, my faithful old friend, leap to his feet and shake spring blossoms off of his fur. I let the hand carrying the mail drop to my leg, and almost absentmindedly give it a little stroke. Most of the time, the pain has completely disappeared; Katie puts it down to all the walking we do these days – up and down the mountains with these dogs. And probably a bit of carrying little Tommy around, too.

A
nd hell
, who am I to argue with her… I'm just some dumb grunt. Even now, sometimes I have to pinch myself to believe it's really true, and that I'm not just dreaming – she really did choose to marry me, out of all the hundreds of other guys who must've been chasing after her.

B
ut out of
all of them, she chose me.

I
look up
, ready to call Jake again – but as usual he's way ahead of me. He barks twice, the sharp sound echoing off the rocky outcroppings all around us, and the other five dogs snap to attention. It's almost, I think to myself in amusement, like they're soldiers.

"
G
ood boy
," I say under my breath, even though he's still hundreds of feet away from me. It’s done him a world of good getting out here into the wild, and it's the one thing I'll never be able to thank Katie for enough. I have no idea how she convinced the army to just give me a dog they spent fifty thousand dollars training! That girl, I tell you – she's smart. So smart that I know there's no way the envelope in my palm won't contain good news – good news she’s worked hard for, while giving birth to and then raising our son.

A
nd yet
, my mind still worries that it won't. After all, she followed me out here into the wild, into the Rocky Mountains, giving up her career as a nurse. Sure, she was as jaded and burnt out as I was – but still, all she ever wanted to do was help people. And if I somehow took that away from her, I don't know if I would ever be able to forgive myself, even though I know she’d forgive me in a heartbeat.

I
turn
, striding back up the road towards our cabin, and hear the dogs barking happily in the distance behind me. I don't need to worry that they won't follow me, Jake's got them whipped into shape, and I look up with pride as I walk past a hand carved, wooden sign that reads: "Carson Shelter for Working Dogs".

I
t’s
our pride and joy, this shelter. It’s allowed us to ‘retire’ from the real world and heal ourselves – both of us. For me, it’s helped me forget the terror of combat, the fear of losing friends, and the grief that comes naturally with their deaths.

F
or Katie
, well – she’s had it every bit as bad as me, if not more. After all, at least I once had training to deal with the kind of trauma a warzone brings. Katie? Not so much. She was on her way to burnout when I first met her, after months upon months of ceaselessly helping save some of the most badly injured men on the planet. And often, through no fault of her own, failing.

K
atie
and I lived up here in a trailer for months, building our cabin and all the outbuildings almost by hand, though I can't say we did it without help – as soon as that lady at the post office saw my mail from the Veteran’s Administration, not a day went by without someone turning out to give us a helping hand. And it wasn’t just the locals – after the nightly news somehow got ahold of some footage of Jake, for a couple of months donations flooded in! Easily enough to take care of us and help the dogs we’ve adopted.

T
he last twenty
yards melts away in my excitement to reach Katie and stick the envelope into her hand. The short walk in the brisk, cool spring breeze has eliminated any concern that I might be the bearer of bad news. No way, no how – she's worked way too hard for anything to go wrong now.

"
K
atie
?" I call out loudly as I reach the cabin, not knowing if she's inside or – as she often does – taken the truck down into town to pick up some supplies for the dogs. Not this time, though.

"
Y
es
, honey?" I hear her reply, her tinkling, upbeat voice lifting my mood as it always does. "What's up?" she asks, appearing from behind the cabin just as I leap up the three stairs leading to our front door. I throw myself to a halt, spin around, and jump excitedly down onto the ground, ignoring the steps in the process and almost crushing one of the dogs, as all six of them are now gamboling merrily near my pretty wife, jumping up to steal a kiss.

"
H
ey
!" I call out amusedly. "Get off her, Lily – that's my job!"

"
N
ow
, now, no need to be jealous," Katie chides me with a grin on her face. "I've got enough love to go around…"

I
close
the short distance between us and sweep her into a long, passionate kiss, closing my hands around her tiny waist that firmed up so quickly after giving birth, and pull her in towards me, feeling her soft cheeks graze against my short stubble.