“How the hell did I get here?”
“You were injured. Are you capable of telling me what you remember?” My head whips around to the other side of the bed where I lie stiff and sore when a deep voice clears his throat.
“Kaleb.” My eyes speak for themselves. They look him up and down. It’s the first time I’ve seen him dressed this casually. His dark jeans and white t-shirt stretch tight across his manly chest. I may be somewhat disoriented, but my god, he is just so damn beautiful. His blue eyes are vibrant and his arms more defined than I remember. His tattoos have my mouth watering when seconds ago it was dry.
“Hey,” he speaks quietly.
“Hey,” I say back, then turn my eyes away from him. He shouldn't be here. I remember everything; all of it. Every fuck, every thrust, every kiss.
I jerk my hand away from him when he reaches for it. He retreats his without a word. I focus my attention on the doctor. “I was shot,” is all I say. It’s all I can say, all I’m aloud to say.
Her mouth smiles kindly. “You were grazed by the bullet. It did not hit you. You have five stitches, and you will be in pain for a few days, Captain.”
“Oh. Well, that’s great,” I manage to say rather weakly. I have so many questions to ask. Like how in the hell I flew six and a half hours from Afghanistan to Germany without remembering a damn thing.
“You’ll be free to fly back to the States tomorrow morning. Tonight, I want you to rest.” She looks from me to Kaleb as if her statement was meant for him.
“I’m not leaving, Doc. No fucking way,” he states demandingly.
“He’s fine.” I have things I want to talk to him about. He's one of the only people who can answer all of my questions.
“Very well. I’ll be back to check on you. If you need anything at all, please push this button and a nurse will help you with anything you need.” She pats my leg lightly. I watch her back until she disappears.
For the first time since I laid my eyes on Kaleb Maverick, I’m alone with him, free to do whatever I want with him, yet wanting absolutely nothing to do with him.
"Why are you here?" I can't help but sound irritated.
"Where the fuck else would I be?" He sits back in his chair, kicked back, allowing my eyes to fall to his chest rising as he waits for my response.
"I don't know, but I don't need your ass watching over me. I'm fine."
"I never said you did. I'm here for me." Does he really think I'm an idiot?
"What exactly does me getting shot have to do with you?"
"You saved my ass in that mission." He sits up, leaning closer to the bed. Closer to me. Bringing his intensity into my bubble yet again.
"You're welcome." My sarcasm escapes before the nightmare flashes through my mind. I can see the boy’s face. He was on a mission to kill him, just like we were on a similar mission to kill anything in our way. He was so young, and it guts me to think of the shit these people feed their children just to attempt to get a surprise shot in on the enemy. Do they not have boundaries in their country to protect their futures and the people who will one day be the generation making decisions for them?
Tears fill my eyes as I replay the memories of watching him fall to the ground. I killed a child. I aimed my rifle at him and took the shot, knowing I would not miss. Flames fill my mind, pull me back to my conversation with Kaleb.
"Where's everyone else? Tell me they all made it out. Harris?" He stands when I ask about Harris. A ping of jealousy rushes across his face, but I don't care. I don't have time for his bullshit games. Harris is and will always be a soldier I care about.
"He's fine. He just left to get something to eat down the hall."
"He's here too?" The surprise in my voice is obvious. Since when did I become the bitch who needs bedside monitoring? I attempt to wipe the tears from my face and change the subject from what's truly burning me from the inside out.
"Yes. He disregarded my orders to leave. We need to talk about that."
"What's there to talk about?" Harris is a grown man who can make his own decisions. The mission is over. He has no say what any of us can do. Not anymore.
Kaleb stands over me. His eyes search for mine, and I quickly look down at my hands against the white sheet over my legs. I move the fingers of my good arm over the material and try to ignore the heat he's sending into my core. He makes me feel nervous as he stands there, and I welcome the sound of the door as Harris walks back in.
"Good fucking morning, Elliot. It's nice of you to join us."
"Fuck off, Harris. Should've known you'd be eating while some of us here are having to do all the work." I'm not finished talking before he sits on the opposite edge of the bed from Kaleb and wraps his arms over my shoulders, being gentle as he does so.