Page 6 of Until You Can't

“Anthony can’t get a flight until the morning, but he wishes he was here,” Mom added, smoothing her hand over my arm, careful not to touch the IV.

“It was a bad migraine,” I insisted, not a total lie. “I don’t need to be here. Nothing to worry about.”

“Natalia called Anthony after 911, and he told her about the concussion. Then she told me, and when I got here, I informed the doctor.” Where was Mom going with this? “Given your line of work, and since you recently had a concussion, the doctor was worried about a possible brain bleed. They had to rule it out before waking you, so you also have anesthesia in your system. You’re not going anywhere yet.”

“Did they find a bleed?” I asked, hating the trepidation in my tone.

“No.” Okay, so why didn’t Mom sound relieved? “But since you signed those papers a while back that allows doctors to discuss your health with me, well, they told me what they did find on the scans.”

Great, I knew what was coming. The doctor just worried the hell out of her, and for no good reason. She had enough on her plate. She didn’t need to deal with more because of me.

“You’ve taken too many hits to the head. He said something about small tears, I think,” she nervously explained, swiping a shaky hand through her silver hair. “I don’t remember the technical term, but he’s concerned. I’m concerned.”

“And you should be,” the doctor said, entering the room. He swapped places with my mother by the bed. “I strongly recommend you quit operating before there’s so much damage you don’t wake up next time. Or maybe you wake up and don’t remember who you are.”

Shit, maybe I am dreaming? Why’d this guy look like the doc from that show my mom loved? Grey’s Anatomy? What was his name? Doctor McDreamy or something? To hell if he was making decisions about my life.

“Thankfully, it’s not up to you,” I blurted as he flashed a light in my eyes and then held my wrist, checking my pulse.

He ignored me and continued with his lecture, “I’m sure you’re well aware of the dangers of your job. And you must know the research shows that explosions and . . .”

He kept talking.

I stopped listening.

Of course I knew the risks. And it didn’t change the fact I still wanted to operate.

Then he dropped the bomb that grabbed my full attention again, “I’m afraid if you don’t report what happened to the Navy, I’ll have to.”

I tried to sit, but Mom sidestepped the doctor and placed a hand on my chest, urging me back down.

I wasn’t sure if the doctor was bluffing or not. Wasn’t there some sort of oath a doctor took? Privacy shit? But then again, I was the property of the United States government. Many civilian rules didn’t apply to me.

“I’m surprised the Navy let you run around only two weeks after you suffered such a major concussion,” the doctor continued. “I’m betting last night wasn’t the first time you lost consciousness. You haven’t given your body and brain time to heal. You’re running yourself into the ground, and your head can’t take one more blow. If you care about your teammates and their safety, you’ll make the right choice and walk away.” He looked at my mom, then tipped his head toward the door.

I had planned to protest their private conversation, certain they’d be discussing my health and my future without me, but when my gaze shot over to Natalia, I became distracted by her worrying her lip between her teeth.

“I’m so sorry,” Natalia said once we were alone. “I don’t want to be the reason you can’t operate.”

My shoulders fell at the concern in her soft voice. “You’re not the reason.” I wanted to be mad at her for calling 911, for not listening to me, but how could I be?

But I refused to believe the doctor. My head wasn’t that bad. It couldn’t be. I’d recover. I always did. I’d find a way.

For some stupid reason, I reached for Natalia. I blamed whatever drugs they were pumping through me.

Her eyes lowered to my palm resting on her forearm. She still had on her hoodie from last night. She’d been there all night with Mom, hadn’t she?

I cleared my throat and pulled my hand back. “So, uh, does Anthony know I’m bigger than him . . . or did he get the same story as Mom? That you found me passed out on the floor wearing a tee and boxers?”

She was quiet for a moment as she slowly worked her gaze from her arm to my eyes. “I went with the safe answer.”

I arched a brow. “Which was?”

Natalia wet her lips and whispered, “The lie.”

CHAPTER ONE

RYAN

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