Page 109 of Lucky Charm
“Yes.” At least he hoped Cait had talked about him. “I’m staying with Cait throughout. It’s better she keeps in touch with me.”
God, he was making commitment after commitment with his gut and not even taking his brain along for the ride. What if this wasn’t what Cait wanted?
Doogie’s hand settled on his shoulder. “Let’s go see her. All this can be handled after.”
Duncan went to the door and paused. “She’s still unconscious. She has a lot of wires and tubes. Just warning you. She’s banged and bruised.”
“None of that matters. Take me to her, please.” He followed Duncan.
Doogie stayed at his back.
Colonel Cartwright split off heading off another Colonel.
Thank God. He didn’t think he could talk to anyone else.
He kept his eyes resolutely on Duncan’s back as they moved. Too many people stopped to watch, and the silence in a normally bustling place was jarring against the beeps of machines.
Duncan stopped by a set of white curtains at the end. “I need to get her in surgery. You can have five minutes.”
Hunt nodded, afraid to speak. Choked up, he pulled back the drape and walked in. Going right for the bed, he didn’t let himself react.
Her eyes were closed, her skin pale, her right hand lying at her side. He slipped his fingers into hers and listened to the monitors beeping. Doogie hovered in the doorway, staying silent, and serving as a roadblock. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the warmth of her fingers, but it wasn’t enough.
She had an IV in both arms, a monitor on her finger that he carefully avoided, and a bandage around her head. The room smelled of antiseptic and clean sheets mixed with his sweaty body. Her left arm lay crossed over her waist and had been bundled tight to her body. There was swelling around her eyes and across her jaw. The oxygen tube ran up her broken nose, and the dark bruises and red scrapes across her pretty skin tore at him. The vibrancy of her blue eyes was starkly missing. The contrast of her broken body against the pristine, white sheets scraped against every sense as wrong. He reached for the side chair and pulled it close to sit.
Carefully drawing her hand to his mouth, he kissed her fingers. He cleared his throat, struggling against dual tracks of utter sadness and immense anger. He hadn’t been here, hadn’t protected her, and the sentiment tore jagged holes through every part of him. “I’m here, honey. I’m here. You fight, you hear me. We have a lot of good moments still to come. I want those. I know you do, too.”
She was so still, and he’d hoped for her eyes to open – to see the sparkle in her eyes when she saw him. Wasn’t happening. The devastation ripped a hole so deep it brought tears to his eyes.
“I owe you time with our feet on home ground, honey. I was also asked if I was marrying you, and I said yes. So, you need to wake up. Let me ask you.” He kissed her fingers, then dropped his forehead to the skin on the back of her hand. His thumb pressed over her pulse, he savored the steady beat and her warmth. It had to be enough for now.
“Lieutenant?” Colonel Cartwright moved in behind him. “We need to take her now. It’ll be two to three hours before the surgery is finished.”
Protective walls collapsing, he shook his head. “I don’t want to leave her.”
“I’ll have her, Hunt. I won’t let her go.”
He tipped his head to look at the colonel’s solemn face. He wanted to argue, but knew he had to do what was best for Cait. He spoke through a choked-up mess clogging his throat. “She’s mine, Colonel.”
“I know. Let us get to work putting her back together – for her and for you. Please.”
He kissed Cait’s fingers again. “Hang on, honey.” He stood and let them take her.
Chapter Eighteen
December 2, 2019, Afternoon
Day 28
Colonel Cartwright shoved him out of the ER to shower and get food. He did the first, avoiding anyone else. He should stop to talk to Scott, but he didn’t know anything to pass on about Cait, and he didn’t want to do paperwork. Even though he knew he’d be sitting in a waiting room, he wanted to be as close to Cait as he could, as if that would keep her alive. He didn’t argue with what his intuition told him. Whether for him or for her, it didn’t matter.
Using the same breaking and entering techniques he’d used for her bedding weeks ago, he made a quick stop at Cait’s quarters to get her laptop. The smell of her apple blossom scent hit him just inside the door. The bed was a shambles, suggesting she’d overslept and hadn’t taken time to make it. The moments they’d spent in that bed came back to bite him hard. The hurt slashed through him like the long-ago knife wound.
He stopped a minute to smooth the lines of the bed, then he lifted her drawings and pencils from the floor and put them in the box by the bed. Searching the room, he finally found her laptop and wallet in her footlocker. He took both, knowing if she got sent to Germany, she’d need ID. The rest of her stuff would be shipped home by the super slowroute. He grabbed the sweater she always wore for warmth and her slippers, putting them in a small zip up bag. He lingered at the door, wishing she were here instead of hurt, then left her quarters.
Doogie stood leaning on the wall outside her quarters. “What took you so long?”
“Grabbed what I thought she’d need for Germany. Where’d you go?”
