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“When do I get out of Costa Rica?” I ask.
“You’re already in Houston,” Kincaid answers. “Do you remember anything?”
I shake my head as best as I can manage, answering immediately, despite it not being the full truth. I have no recollection of anything after I passed out in the back of the SUV. I remember Slick’s hands being cold on my skin, but that’s about it.
“The trauma team in Costa Rica,” Kincaid continues, “weren’t equipped to handle your injuries. But they, along with the medical staff here in Houston, have confirmed that an above-the-knee amputation is required.”
The beeping machine drowns out every other noise in the room.
“Calm down,” I hear spoken above everything else. I turn my head in the direction of the angelic voice, my eyes locking with Slick’s. “It’s going to be okay,” she assures me. “You’ll come back even stronger. They’re doing amazing things with prosthetics these days.”
I do my best to fight the threatening tears, but I’m so out of touch with my own body, I don’t know if I actually manage it. She’s not telling me anything I haven’t said to other men who have been injured in the line of duty. There are a lot of casualties in war and I can’t help but wonder if they all thought I was a complete asshole for saying those things.
“Slick is going to stay with you,” Kincaid says from the opposite side of the bed, but I keep my eyes locked on Slick.
I want to tell her to go, to leave me the fuck alone. I want all of them out of here. If I’m going to suffer, I’d like to do it in peace. But I can’t find the words. Not with the way she’s looking at me with such care and vulnerability in her eyes.
I know the current situation is the reason why Kincaid isn’t saying more. He doesn’t encourage me to heal, to get healthy so I can return to the team. He doesn’t tell me I’m fired, although I know that will be the final outcome.
I feel one last squeeze to my shoulder before the air gets thinner as the others leave the room. Slick stays put, her fingers tangled with mine.
“You’re going to be okay,” she says again. I never took her for a liar, but maybe she’s projecting her own hope more than anything else. “You need to calm down,” she says as the beeping grows louder once again. “They aren’t able to do surgery because your vitals are all over the place.” I shake my head.
“I can’t control it,” I gasp.
“You can,” she says, her warm palm forcing my head to turn in her direction. “Breathe with me.” She takes a deep breath and I try to mimic it, but it comes out a shudder and not nearly as strong.
When she repeats the process, I do the same. Breath after breath, I mimic her. The beeping begins to slow and I feel like a weight has been lifted from my chest. I want to look down at the damage to my leg, but I can’t. Doing so would accept my loss.
I can’t stop the insidious thoughts coming into my mind that they will take me back for surgery. I’ll close my eyes and never open them again. I don’t want to die, but at the same time, I don’t want to be unwhole either. I always imagined I’d die in the field. I never considered I would live, but left in such a condition that would make me wish for death.
“Breathe,” Slick snaps, and I attempt another deep breath. “You’re maxed out on medicine,” she says. “You’re going to lose much more than part of your leg if they can’t get you into surgery soon.”
My eyes flutter closed, but I breathe at the same cadence that she does. “You need to leave,” I tell her, keeping my eyes closed because the darkness behind them feels like the only place I should be. “Leave,” I whisper, turning my head in the opposite direction of her.
“You seriously need to shut the fuck up and focus on getting better,” she says. “The time for placating anyone is gone.” How can I argue that I may survive, but without part of my leg, I’ll never be better. The loss of Cerberus may end up being the ultimate blow. I don’t know if the team, Kincaid, Shadow, or any of them, know they saved me. With the invite to join their team, they have no idea of the plan I had already made, the steps I had taken after discovering that being a civilian wasn’t in the cards for me. I can only pray I die in the surgery. At least that’s one less thing I’d have to do to myself.
Chapter 5
Slick
I’m a firm believer in the power of positive thoughts. Even with my medical background, I absolutely believe that you can manifest the outcome you want by believing it’s true. That’s why I’m so concerned about Aro. The look in his eyes before the hospital staff took him back to surgery was troubling. He seemed defeated, as if he had already given up on life, and I know that can impact his surgery in a negative way.
