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Okay so I was in Germany, which answered the question of where the hell I was. “How long have I been here?”
“Going on two weeks now. You landed weird on your neck and they put you under to prevent any further damage. You’ll have to ask the doc for more info, he was a damn tight lip,” Palmer grumbled. “And a tight ass.”
I smiled as a short man with a close cropped salt and pepper style stood behind Palmer with his arms folded, one hand clutching a clipboard. “I heard that.”
Palmer jumped and glared at me before turning to the doctor with a smile. “I said nothin’ that wasn’t true.” He turned back to me. “Stickler for the rules and privacy bullshit, but he knows his stuff. I’ll see ya later, Reyes.”
“See ya, Palmer. Thanks for babysitting. I owe you.”
“You can reimburse me for the tropical vacation I’m taking once we get you back on U.S. soil,” he said with a laugh and walked away.
My gaze turned to the short but fit man who stood beside the bed, giving me a respectable amount of distance. “Liam Reyes. Good to meet you.”
“Dr. Morgan. Nice to see you’re awake and responsive. How do you feel?”
“Like I got shot and fell from a tree, not that I remember much about it.” The doc nodded and told me all about how common memory loss was for these types of injuries.
“You should recover the memories in time. Headaches? Dizziness? Nausea?”
I closed my eyes and cataloged what I was feeling. Anxious. Ready to get back to Pilgrim. “None of that, Doc. Just hungry.”
He laughed. “Now that you’re awake and responsive, we need to get you up and walking around to make sure you suffered no permanent damage that we haven’t been able to see yet.”
“Is there any permanent damage you have seen?”
“No,” he said with a patient smile. “We’ve just been waiting for you to wake up.” Dr. Morgan reached into the pocket of his white coat and produced a cell phone. My cell phone. “We’re not the only ones, but to use it you have to make it to the rec room.”
I groaned. “It’s like I never left the Navy.”
“Rules are rules,” he said and waved the phone in front of me before he set it on the table beside me. Just out of my reach. “Have them page me if you feel any signs that something isn’t right.”
“Will do, Doc. Thanks.” With a smile and a wave, he left me in the single room, a privilege only afforded top military brass and private contractors. The room was stark white and minimally appointed, perfect military décor.
But staying in this room wouldn’t get me discharged, so I sat up slowly, wincing as pain lanced through my left arm. I took a moment to give thanks to the universe that it wasn’t my dominant hand bandaged and wrapped up in a sling, and swung my legs over the bed. My legs were unsteady but that was all. Two weeks wasn’t much time for muscles to atrophy and I was healthy and fit, so after a few uncertain steps I made my way out of the room.
Down the brightly lit hall, past other servicemembers in various stages of healing, at least those that could be healed. At the end of the hall was the rec room where guys played pool and ping pong, watched TV, played cards and sat around talking smack. Reliving the good memories and forgetting the bad ones.
I found a recliner near the window and sat down to check my messages. A few were from my dad to update me on his wedding plans, which his intended was happy to delay just to meet me. “Great,” I grumbled and saved the last message.
A few calls came in from Xander and Stone, making sure things were all right as they usually did when I was away for work. The last message caught me off guard.
“Hi Liam, it’s me, um Olive. I just wanted to say that I, uh…I hope you’re safe. Take care. Bye.”
Weird. Not clingy but definitely not standard operating procedure between us. But since there were no questions about seeing me again or repeating our night together, I decided to leave it at that.
And delete the message.
My first call was to my dad. “Hello? I said hello,” he shouted. “Must be one of them damn telemarketers,” he grumbled. “I ain’t interested. Damn unknown numbers.”
“Dad, it’s me Liam.”
“Liam? My boy! You sound far away son, where are you?” Diego coughed and growled before he recovered. “You there?”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “I’m here Dad. How’s it going?”
“I should be askin’ you that. Your sheriff over in Pilgrim said he ain’t heard from ya in weeks.”
“I’m working, you know how it is.” This wasn’t the first time I’d been off grid and it wasn’t even the longest absence. “What’s going on?”
