Page 94 of Hot Damn
“Oh, I can give you details. Just didn’t think you’d want them.”
“My mind is currently running on two tracks. Worry about my daughter and worry about Cami. A distraction might be nice.”
“Sure. I can do that. Traveling through a village in Afghanistan we took some fire that scattered us. What we didn’t know was we were targeted for our medic.”
“The head of trauma.”
“Yep. Anyway, they obviously had eyes on us for a while because they knew who he was before they started shooting,” Raycontinues as he leads us through the bowels of Miami’s arena. “Turned out to be a small group of insurgents with a wounded—aka dying—leader. When Duce couldn’t save him, they put a gun to his head. But we’d gotten there by then. The locals were not happy to have a group of terrorists hiding out in their village and basically walked us right up to the front door of the house they were holed up in.”
“And you went in and pulled him out before the gun at his head went off.”
“Not quite.”
“But—”
“Duce lost part of his left cheek and ear. The reason he ended up head of trauma at Blaywood.”
“He owes you.”
“I don’t see it that way. He put a plug in a bullet hole in my arm at one point. Same with one in my thigh. He also pulled a piece of shrapnel out of my ass.”
His words have me distracted enough I don’t notice how far we’ve come until he pushes open a door to the outside.
“Let’s get her in the backseat, strap her in with you beside her, rest her head on your shoulder so it looks like she’s asleep or had too much to drink on our night out.” He’s grinning at me when he pulls open the back door of the SUV.
“Sounds good.”
It doesn’t take us long to get situated and on the road. But it isn’t until we’re directed into an exam room by a man who looks more like an underground fighter than a doctor that I feel some relief.
After a quick check of vitals and a small blood draw, we’re asked if we’d like anything to eat or drink while we wait and directed where we can find both. All free of charge. I make a mental note to find out how to make a donation to the hospital.
Three hours later, Cami still hasn’t stirred and the doctor confirms she was given Zolpidem. Not enough to bedangerous, but she’ll be sleeping until tomorrow and should have minimal side effects.
More relief loosens my muscles but I’m not completely relaxed yet.
“All right, let’s get back to Baton Rouge.” Ray holds out his hand to his old friend. “Thanks, Duce. I owe you.”
“Anytime, Sunshine.”
Duce grins but Ray just rolls his eyes and mutters, “Whatever, asshole.”
It isn’t until the private jet leaves the ground on its way to Baton Rouge that I feel the last of the tension drain from my body.
Cami
Rolling over, I moan as sore muscles pull and a dull pain thrums in my hip. Softness beneath me offers comfort, but with the way my body aches it gives little relief.
“Cam?”
The whisper of my name has a smile pulling at my lips and I try to open my eyes but my lids are stuck and when I attempt to move my arm so I can rub the sleep from them it’s too hard. Like my limb is weighed down.
A grumble of frustration vibrates in my throat and the bed dips beside me.
“Shh… You’re safe.”
Safe? Why would I not be safe…
Warm pressure gliding over my head has my thoughts scattering.
