Page 28 of Bad Decisions

His reply is a thumbs-up, and I silently turn the knob and slip inside. Antonio is lying hidden on this side of the bed, and he gestures to the closed door of the en suite bathroom, letting me know Lucia is inside. I signal for him to remain in place.

Tapping my earpiece, I let Parker know our positions. Then, keeping low, I move toward the wall to the side of the doorframe.

CRASH!

An iron chair from the balcony comes hurtling into the room, showering the floor with shards of glass and splintered wood. A large man barrels through the remaining framework, bringing with him the stench of alcohol and sweat.

“Where is that bitch?” the intruder growls, head turning from side to side like a madman. I don’t hesitate, running at him before he can spew anymore hate, my arm around his neck, getting him into a headlock.

But a punch to my thigh has me staggering backward and loosening my hold. It wasn’t a fist I felt, it’s … a deep searing pain. “Knife,” I shout, warning Parker.

There’s no time for more as the fucker raises his hand to stab me again. A glint of steel catches in a flash of light from outside.

“What the fuck do you want, Bruno?” Antonio yells from behind me. It’s enough to distract the attacker, and I draw back my fist and swing. The satisfying crunch of broken bones tells me the punch was successful before I sink to my knees. My strength is draining from me along with the deep-red bloom of blood on my thigh.

Unbuckling my belt, I wrap it around my thigh just below my groin, then try to pull it tight. I can hear Parker, or is it Antonio, nearby.

“You okay, Will?” Parker’s voice comes to me like I’m down a tunnel.

“The fucker got me.” I groan.

A bright light blinds me temporarily, and when I open my eyes again, Parker is leaning over me, tightening the belt into an effective tourniquet.

“It didn’t hit the artery,” he mutters, and I don’t know if he means to reassure me, but it does. I’m glad that today isn’t the day I die because I want to see Jewel again.

Why that thought comes to me now, I don’t know, because it’s been months.

Rip. Parker has cut my jeans from ankle to groin. I prop myself up on my elbow to glance down at the bloody mess.

“Fuck, those are my favorite jeans.”

“Will, lie the fuck down and shut up,” Parker yells. “Antonio, call an ambulance.”

Parker was our medic back in the Rangers, and relief courses through my veins as I watch him try to stem the thick river of blood seeping from my body and onto the cream tiles. He won’t leave me behind.

The rush of adrenaline is wearing off, replaced by a sharp pain so intense that the metallic odor of the blood tastes like a mouthful of rusty nails. I fall back to the floor, my head swimming. I’m slowly sinking into a dark abyss.

Firm pressure on my thigh drags me back with the effect of a fiery dagger twisting so deeply into my muscle, it’s almost out the other side. A muffled grunt is dragged from my lips. My thoughts begin to tangle in a web of muted sounds and hazy images of my life. Explosions. Choppers. Gunfire. A desert. A jungle. A beach.

A pretty young woman sitting alone on a white sandy beach. This is the one image I want to hold on to. The one I want to repeat. The gray veil of nothingness creeps in, overwhelming my senses one by one. I don’t fight it this time. Because it’s in my dreams where I find Jewel again.

Chapter fifteen

Jewel

“Jewel, it’s been nearly six months,” Cara exclaims, and it’s not the first time she’s encouraged me to forget Will. “It’s time to move on. Not just pretend that you are.”

I thought removing all contact would make forgetting him easier, but it hasn’t. If only it was as simple for me as it was for him, flying off somewhere with his teammates to do God knows what, then never bothering to call again. He became the invisible man, and when I began to sift through all those conversations we had together, it became clear exactly how little I really knew about Will’s life.

We’d talked for hours, yet I didn’t even know the name of his company. For fuck’s sake, I hadn’t even asked him his last name.

I’d been a gullible fool, falling for a mystery man who disappeared like he’d never existed in the first place.

It may have taken me too many weeks and a dose of courage fueled by tequila to delete him from my cell, but erasing the memories is proving more difficult.

“Jewel, are you even listening to me?” Cara complains from the barstool beside me. We popped in after work for a glass of wine and a chat at the small corner bar near the clinic.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about … what I’ve got in the fridge for dinner.” The quick excuse sounds as phony to my ears as I imagine it does to Cara.