Nobody's Perfect (53 page)

Marc knelt down beside Dad, his medical supply bag beside him. Damián waved him away. "I'm fine, Doc. You need to work on Savannah."

"She's stable. I want to give that ointment a chance to work before I put bandages on the rest of the cuts."

Savannah gasped. "Damián, you've been shot!"

"Just a flesh wound."

"You're bleeding. Oh, God! What have I done to you?"

Damián fought the buzzing that swirled inside his head, growing louder and louder. What did she mean, what
she
had done? He knew who was responsible for this. That sonuvabitch would pay.

He opened his mouth to tell her not to worry, but glittering stars and black spots covered his field of vision as a wave of dizziness made him sway. He would
not
lose consciousness. Fuck, he wasn't finished with his mission yet.

His skin grew clammy as darkness engulfed him. Damián fought his way back, looking at Dad. "I am not leaving here until justice is done. Go back and keep an eye on him."

"Grant's with him. He's not going anywhere the way I've restrained him."

"Damián!" Savannah tried to get up from the ottoman. It was obvious by the pain glazing her eyes that the effort was causing her even more distress.

Damián pushed himself up and laid his hand on her back, pushing her down. "Savita, don't move."

"Son, lie down before you pass out. Savi, that goes for you, too." Neither responded quickly enough for Dad. He placed his hands on his hips and assumed his master-sergeant stance. "Do. Not. Move. Either of you. I don't need both of you passing out on me."

Savannah lowered her chest to the ottoman, but didn't take her eyes off Damián's face. He couldn't take his eyes off her either, but after a few minutes, he couldn't remain upright any longer. Damián slumped to his back on the floor, gasping for breath, trying to stay alert. Memories of Doc working on him in Fallujah, trying to save his foot—no, his life—flashed across his mind.
Fuck
. Was he going to lose even more of his leg?

Knowing Savannah was in good hands, he gave himself permission to close his eyes. Just for a minute.

Damián's eyes shot open when he felt a burning sensation in his wound. Marc poured some kind of liquid over his calf. He gritted his teeth. "How bad, Doc?" The words transported him back to that scene on a rooftop in Fallujah he'd relived many times. Sweat broke out on his forehead.

He reached for the leather wristband Sergeant Miller's daughter had given him and sent up a little prayer asking for his comrade-in-arms to help them both get through this.

"Through and through wound, fleshy part of your calf." Marc injected the skin around the entry wound with something that numbed the area immediately. "Blood loss is minimal. I don't think you'll have any long-term problems. We'll fly you to the trauma center with Savannah."

Damián reached out and grabbed Doc's arm. "My mission…isn't…over."

Dad squeezed his shoulder. "Son, this mission just changed. It's over."

Damián glared at Dad and fought the blackness as it encroached once more. "Not leaving…until I've finished…what I came…to do."

Dad growled and looked ready to headslap him, but backed off and looked at Marc. "Can you do something to counter the reaction to the blood loss?"

"I can hook up an IV and do a quick infusion of Ringer's; it’s a blood expander."

"Plain English."

Marc grinned. "Yeah, I can help."

"Do it, Doc." As Marc went to work in the background, Dad met Damián's gaze. "Son, you'd better clue me in on the next phase you have planned, because you aren't going OFP."

This was Damián's mission. How could it be Own Fucking Plan, when it
was
his plan? But he had purposely left the others out of this phase. They'd risked enough already. But the next phase could net him prison time, if charges were pressed. About the only place it might be considered legal would be a Third World dictatorship.

Still, he had no intention of leaving Savannah's abuse and torture un-avenged.

"This is between me and the bastard who hurt my girl."

Dad got in his face. "You aren't completing this mission." Like hell, he wasn't. "Not without me, anyway."

Chapter Twenty-One

Disturbing images invaded Savi's mind as she drifted in and out consciousness. Zipping Mari into the duffel bag. Lyle and another man finding Savi in the closet and pressing a smelly handkerchief over her mouth and nose. Her father. More torture.

But different this time. Damián helped her through it. Until… Images of Damián lying on the floor, blood soaking his pants leg—so much blood.

Savi opened her eyes to find herself in semi-darkness. Her eyes adjusted slowly and she saw an IV pole hanging above her bed. How long had she been here?

Where was Damián? Or…dear lord, what if he…?

No!
She wouldn't think the worst. Still, why wasn't he here? Where was Mari?

Savi's mind was fuzzy from the drugs she'd been given—Lyle had kept her heavily drugged on the drive to California, until he'd turned her over to her father. No, wait. Lyle wasn't drugging her now.

This was different. A doctor had prescribed these drugs. Why so many drugs? Were they keeping her sedated to postpone the grieving process, or to alleviate the pain? The only pain she felt was a sharp ache around her heart.

Numb. The rest of her body felt numb. She'd worked so hard with Damián to overcome much of that feeling, but now she was right back there again.

"I'm so proud of you, Savannah."

Savannah? Her mind's use of the name surprised her. Damián had called her that when he'd rescued her.

But had she come to terms with what happened to her younger self? Could she handle the pain of that past existence?

The pain of loss?

Something niggled at her mind, but was too painful, so she tamped it down again.

Mari and Damián. She needed them, but they weren't here. Had she lost them, too? She moaned as tears burned her eyes and let them flow without caging them. Her throat burned. She wanted to crawl into her cave.

Escape.

But she couldn't go there. The memories of those two very different days in the beach cave—first with Maman and then with Damián—were too painful to remember now.

Sleep. Her only escape now was the give in to the drugs and float…

When she awoke again, the room was even darker. She heard a voice over a speaker in the hallway paging someone to ICU. She was still in the hospital. How long had she been here?

"Here, sweetie. Have some ice chips."

Savi blinked, confused but calmed by the familiar voice of her friend Anita. As her eyes adjusted, she saw the woman who had nurtured her back to life after she'd escaped from her father's house all those years ago standing beside her bed again. She held a Styrofoam cup in one hand and a plastic spoon in the other.

As Savi's eyes adjusted further, she surveyed the room. Private. There was a loveseat and two chairs that didn't look very comfortable. She glanced at Anita again. The woman had been like a mother to Savi all these years. Anita had a lot more gray hairs since the last time she'd seen her in December, what three months ago? She must have been worried sick, knowing what Savi's father and Lyle were capable of.

Savi's lips were cracked and her throat dry, so she opened her mouth like a little bird to accept the soothing ice. After the small pieces melted and she swallowed several spoonsful, she decided it was time to get answers to the questions foremost in her mind.

"Mari? Is she okay?" Her voice sounded raw, hoarse, as if it was on fire.

"Yes. She's fine, sweetie."

"Damián? Where is he?"

"I'm sorry, he's gone, dear."

Gone? Pain stabbed her chest. "No!" Tears welled in her eyes. Not Damián, too! She hadn't even told him how grateful she was to him for all he'd done for her and Mari. If not for all the work he'd done with Savi, she wouldn't have been able to survive her father's latest abuse—physically or mentally. Her mind and body would have completely split apart, with no hope of reintegration.

Savi didn't want to go on without Damián in her life. What would Mari do without her Daddy?

Savi's chin quivered and tears spilled from the corners of her eyes. She admitted how much she'd come to care for him these past few months. Her father had taken him away from her.

"He won, Anita."

Anita brushed the hair away from her forehead. "Who won, honey?"

Savi closed her eyes, unable to speak. The pain was too intense, and there was no creative visualization powerful enough to numb her or remove that pain from her this time. She stopped fighting the drugs and tried to fade back into oblivion.

Sleep. Escape.

"How is she?" Savi dreamt she heard Damián's voice.

"No change. She asked about you, then got upset when I told her you were gone. Glad you're back. They gave her another shot of pain meds a few minutes ago. When she wakes again, see if you can get some more ice chips in her. Her lips are so dry. I'll go down to the gift shop and get some lip balm for her."

Footsteps. A chair scooted on the floor. "
Mi sueño
, come back to us. Marisol and I need you." There it was again, the whispering voice of her angel, Damián.

Perhaps she was dying, too, and Damián was there to cross her over. With a groan, she opened her eyes, wanting to see him, to go to him. Damián hovered over her, a Styrofoam cup in his hand. He smiled. A sense of peace enveloped her and she felt her soul merge with his, just for a moment.

"Take me home, Damián."

He grinned. "Well, the doctors might not let me do that for a little while yet."

Doctors?

She blinked and looked around as her eyes adjusted to the dark room, then back at the Styrofoam cup before her gaze returned to him. "This isn't heaven, is it?"

A shadow crossed his face. "I'm not sure they'd let someone like me in there." His callused fingers stroked her temple. "But it sure feels like heaven to me, looking into your beautiful blue eyes again,
bebé
."

More tears filled her eyes, and she felt them trickle down the sides of her face and into her hair. "I thought you were dead. You were shot. There was so much blood."

"
De nada
. I've been through much worse. Just slowed me down a little."

"And Mari? She's okay?"

"Yeah, Karla and Marisol flew out late last night. They and Adam are staying with my sister, Rosa and the kids. Marisol's been getting acquainted with her aunt and cousins. Teresa loves having another girl around."

Savi hadn't thought about how Mari would have a whole new family now, in addition to Damián's friends in Denver.

Emotion overwhelmed her again. She sniffled. "Oh, God. Damián, I thought I'd lost you."

He brushed the tears into her hair. "Shhhh,
bebé
. You've been through a lot. Just rest now."

She sniffled. "I'm sorry for the waterworks."

She saw his teeth gleaming against his brown skin as he smiled. "Hey, remember how hard it was for you to cry the first time?" Memories of their exhaustive first SM session, where he'd demanded nothing less than full-on tears brought a smile to her face, as well.

"Anytime you feel like crying is fine by me, Savita, because it means you're feeling something again. Your tears—your emotions—are the most beautiful gifts you can give me. The rest will follow."

"Oh, Damián. You've done so much for me. When my father was beating me…" Savi winced at the memory and Damián shushed her again, but she didn't want to be silenced. She needed for him to know what he meant to her. "The pain was so awful, but I imagined myself with you and I didn't even feel most of the blows he delivered. You were there with me. You carried me away from the pain, to our special place."

A puzzled look flashed across his face, then he bent to kiss her lips.

Numb again. She couldn't feel him. Frustrated, she squeezed her eyes shut. "It's no use."

He pulled away to look at her, but remained close to her face. "What's no use?" He stroked her silky hair.

"I want to feel again, but I can't. I'm numb."

Damián took his thumb and middle finger and thumped her arm. "Ouch! Why did you—" Her eyes opened wide. "I felt that!"

He grinned. "Thought you might."

"But why didn't I feel your kiss just now?"

The tip of his finger traced the area around her mouth, not touching her lips, and she shivered as a tingle of awareness coursed through her.

"I felt that, too."

"Of course, you did. Your lips are numb because they're chapped. You got dehydrated in the desert. They're loading you up with fluids, though." She looked up and saw the IV bag.

Savi felt giddy. She hadn't shut down again. A mixture of dehydration and pain medication had probably left her feeling numb.

She wanted to touch him, too, if for no other reason than to feel closer to him. Memories of how he'd made love to her all those years ago left her craving his touch.

"What's going on in that pretty little head,
chica
?"

She smiled. "Take me back to the beach cave."

A pained looked crossed his face, and he pulled away. "You just concentrate on getting well so we can get you out of here."

What had come over her? She hadn't thought before she spoke; her defenses were gone. He couldn't possibly want that. She could never be Savannah for him again.

But Savannah was a part of her and always would be.

"My father? Lyle? They can't…"

He shook his head. "They won't be coming anywhere near you again, or Marisol either. When they get discharged from the hospitals they're in, they're going straight to jail on murder, kidnapping, assault, and a bunch of other charges."

Savi wondered what had happened to land them in the hospital, then decided she didn't really care. They deserved whatever they'd gotten. As long as they were under guard and couldn't get to Mari or her, she could pretend they didn't exist anymore.