Page 10 of Always You

“Yes, sir.”

“If you notice any increase in redness, swelling, or if it starts to produce pus, come back immediately. We might need to prescribe antibiotics if it gets worse. Are you listening to me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You have a room here,” he finished. “I want that cough gone. As your doctor, I want you to be safe and heal. Will you stay here with us and heal before you leave again?”

I stared at him. How could I stay? I didn’t fit in this space.

Anyway, Alex was here, and he wouldn’t want me to stay.

“Soldier? I need you to tell me.”

“Sir—”

“I’ll help you.”

“Not Alex.”

He paused, and I couldn’t read his expression until he nodded and smiled again. “I’llhelp you. You can trust me.”

“I don’t need…” What was I saying? I wasn’t making sense. I needed help, but could I imagine staying here? “I want…”

“Let me help you,” Doc murmured.

And somehow, we were back in the room I’d been given, my discarded clothes and backpack still outside the door. I locked Doc out, checked the other door, pulled the drapes, and, still dressed in everything but my coat, I curled on my side on the bed.

I slept.

But the lie I’d told Alex—that I didn’t feel a thing for him—followed me into my nightmares.

Chapter Six

Alex

I had to tread carefully.Patient confidentiality was a cornerstone of trust at Guardian Hall, but my concern for Jazz’s well-being nudged at those boundaries, and that was why, as soon as the door shut, I headed for the medical room.

“Marcus?” I asked from the door.

He paused, gave me a guarded look. “I can’t talk to you,” he said.

My heart sank. I knew he couldn’t talk to me about specifics, but to tell me Jazz was okay. Or at least as okay as he could be?

“Come on,” I pleaded, trying to keep my voice even. “Give me something.”

Marcus’s expression softened, but he hesitated, then slipped off the white jacket and placed it on a hanger, smoothing it out. With his back to me, I couldn’t watch his expression, and I hated that. “Master Sergeant Brookes has requested that I be his primary point of contact.”

I felt a sting at that revelation, a mix of concern and personal hurt. “I understand that, and I respect his wishes,” I said softly.“How about… I mean… is there anything non-specific you can share with me to help him?”

Marcus finally faced me, and I hated that I’d even asked because my best friend’s expression was so damn sad. He studied me for a moment, then sighed. “He’s been through a lot, Alex. More than we initially realized. He needs space and time, as much as others who’ve come through our doors.”

I couldn’t help the pain that coiled inside me and made my throat tight.

“Did… Did he saywhyhe doesn’t want my help?” I asked, although I knew the answer.

Marcus’s eyebrows knitted together, his compassion flaring, but his lips were set in a thin line. “He didn’t go into details. Just made it clear he feels more comfortable talking to me right now.”

I slumped against the doorjamb—I bet it wasn’t put in such a polite way after what I’d done to him. It had been twenty years, but the heart never heals from hatred being thrown at it.

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