Fuck, it’s just a dream. I’m not back there, inside my head with my father standing in front of me.
“Hey, it’s okay.” The nurse, who came in when I woke up last night, calms me as I try to control my breathing.
“Sorry,” I croak, my throat still raw and scratchy. I’ve been told it’s normal after a gunshot wound to the neck and being intubated. The doctor warned me it might take a few weeks for my voice to come back.
“What time is it?” I try to sit up, but stop when she uses the control to bring the bed up instead. I’m still getting used to the idea I was shot, survived surgery, and was out of it for a few days.
“It’s after twelve.” She hands me a cup of water with a straw.
“Where’s Liberty?” I take a sip, the cold water soothing the roughness in my throat.
“She went down to get some coffee with your mom and sister. You fell asleep on them.” She takes the water when I’m done and moves back to my chart. I vaguely remember talking to them this morning. After a tearful hello on Mom’s part, the drugs they have me on took effect, and as hard as I tried to stay awake, I didn’t last very long.
“These drugs you have me on keep spacing me out.” With the dream still fresh in my mind, I decide to blame the drugs on the whole talking to my father business.
“Yeah, enjoy it while you can.” Her voice is soft, almost singsong, and when she laughs, she reminds me of a cartoon character. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Besides feeling spaced out by the drugs, okay. Think I can go home?” It’s a long shot, I know it, and her cartoon laugh confirms it.
“You’re a funny one.” She shakes her head as the door pushes open.
“Well, well, well, look who decided to grace us with his presence, boys.” Nurse forgotten, I look up at Sterling’s voice to find my teammates walking through the door and taking up too much space in the small hospital room.
“Hey.” My eyes move over each of them—Sterling, Fox, Hart, Tate, and Walker—making sure they’re all here and okay. The last time I remember seeing them was when we walked into a hail of gunfire.
“How are you feeling, boss?” Tate steps forward first, lifts his fist, and waits for a connection.
“Hanging in there, Tate.” I bump my fist to his and watch as Walker steps forward next.
“Scared the shit out of us, boss.” He reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. I push down another wave of nausea and keep my face neutral.
“Glad you pulled through.” Hart comes forward next followed by Fox.
“When I told you to claim the girl, I didn’t mean go get shot so she doesn’t leave your side.” His smartass remarks are funny, but I don’t let him know it.
“Fuck off, Fox.” He laughs at himself. Dropping his fist, he steps back over to a free chair.
“Where’s your girl?” Sterling is the last one to step forward. His hand grips onto my wrist.
“She’s gone to get a coffee with Mom and Kota.”
He doesn’t release his hold as quickly as the others did, his eyes drilling into mine in a silent question.
Are you doing okay?
I nod back, my own silent answer passing between us.
Yeah, I’m good.
“Okay, everything looks fine here. Give me a buzz me if you need anything,” the cartoon nurse interrupts our silent conversation and steps out of the room, leaving us alone.
“Dang, I should get shot if it means having cute nurses looking after me.” Walker whistles loud enough to ensure the nurse heard him.
“Knowing your luck, you’d get the old bag who’s been manning the nurses’ station for the last three days.” Hart shuts his fantasy down.
“You all been here every day?” I try to clear my throat again, only to aggravate it more.
“On shifts,” Sterling answers, the dip in his brows telling me how concerned he’s been. Liberty filled me in on a little, but I still haven’t received the full run down.
“So, what happened?” I ask the question of the hour when Sterling moves back over to a spare wall space. My visitors so far today have consisted of Mom, Kota, and the lieutenant. While Mom and Kota filled me in on what happened after the surgery, and the lieutenant filled me in on what’s been going on since the raid, I still want a play-by-play with my team.
“What do you remember?” Fox answers first.
“We cleared the entry.” I push my groggy mind through the haze and try to bring up my last memory. “We took fire. I pulled back, but before I knew it, I was down.” The scene plays out in my head.
Hands push mine away, a warm blood staining between my fingers, but still it doesn't register. Instead, my world has become the slow beat of my heart pounding in my ears. Darkness takes hold and starts to pull me away. Everything numbs. The pain. The light. The noise.
“I don’t remember much after that.” I clear my head when the image of me going down rushes to the surface.