“Let him in.”
“John, if you’ve got a minute, Colonel Shepherd is at the entrance and would like a word,” Rogers said, shaking John’s hand.
“Are you good?” John asked.
“I’m good.” I really didn’t need someone sitting with me twenty-four-seven but they wouldn’t listen. “Hey John, since I expect I’ll never meet him, will you tell Colonel Shepherd I said thank you.” I’d offer to be available to help him but it’d be at leastsix months before I fully healed and even longer before I was in fighting condition.
“I will,” John said before closing the door and leaving me alone with Mike Rogers, the man responsible for saving our lives.
“How are you holding up?” Rogers asked, walking to the left side of my bed. Unlike everyone else, he had no problem staring at the flat space that should’ve had a leg bump.
“I’ve been better, but thanks to you and your team, I’m alive to complain about it.”
He laughed. “I’m sorry they couldn’t save your leg.”
“Thanks.” I reached down to scratch, but Rogers caught my hand.
“I’m sure they’ve told you not to touch it.”
“They have.” I leaned back and closed my eyes. “It itches.”
He nodded. “A side effect of the morphine. Does it hurt?”
It did, but only because I was a stubborn ass and refused the full dose of morphine required to eliminate the pain.
Being alert for Nina was worth the constant dull ache, the itching, and the occasional sharp pain.
“Winchester.”
“It’s fine.”
“She’ll be gone for a few hours. Have the nurse increase your dosage and get some pain-free sleep.”
I laughed. “Who made you the boss?”
“Just telling you what you already know.”
“Thanks.” I owed this man my life. Nina’s life. “If you ever need anything…” My voice trailed off as my eyes drifted to my leg.
“You know you’ll be okay, right?”
I did. It’d just take time and a lot of therapy. Physical and psychological.
I’d never forget the fear in Nina’s eyes when she sat up in the backseat of the car and saw them slam my head into the hood.
Or the horror in her eyes as they beat me.
Or the dread in her scream when they shot me.
Or the absolute terror on her face when Kane ordered his men to kill me.
“Winchester?” Rogers grabbed my shoulder.
I snapped back to the present and heard my EKG beeping off the charts.
“Take a few breaths with me,” Rogers said, leading me through a few rounds of box breathing until my heart rate returned to normal.
“Want to tell me what you were thinking about? Or do I already know?”
