Hallowed Ground

He laughed. “Ah, you’re on the good stuff, son. But don’t get too used to it.”

Hell no. I wanted off it as soon as possible.

We parked at the hospital’s intake bay, and they started the unload process. I flexed my stomach in preparation to move and groaned, falling back to the bed.

“No, no, don’t move. Not yet,” the nurse said.

Yeah, that wasn’t going to be a fucking problem. Every part of me hurt, from the sharp throbbing in my leg to the ever-present ache in my chest where they’d removed my spleen. I couldn’t wait to see what I’d done to myself.

What would Ember think? The scars had never bothered her before, but these?

My thoughts cut short as they lowered me to the ground and began to wheel me through the hospital. “Can you put me next to Lieutenant Bateman?” I asked yet another nurse.

“I’ll see what we can do,” she said in a sugar-sweet voice. “Are you hungry? It’s the middle of the night, but I’ll see what I can get together for you.”

I shook my head. “The idea of food makes me want to hurl.”

Her smile was bright against her skin. “Well, let’s not do that, shall we? We can work on that in the morning.”

The lights above me passed at measured intervals, feeling more like a strobe-light than the last club I’d been to. An elevator ride and long hallway later, she wheeled me into my room.

There was a window to my left and a bathroom door straight in front of me. I didn’t have to pee…great, that could only mean one thing. “When do I get to pee on my own?” I asked her.

She gave me a knowing half smile. “As soon as you’re ready.”

“Yeah, can we make that happen now?”

She nodded. “Let me get the doctor. We’ll finish your intake, make sure you can get yourself to the bathroom on crutches, and solve that problem.”

“And my phone? I really need to call my fiancée.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Pretty little redhead?”

My mouth dropped. Had she gone through my wallet? Seen the picture on my kneeboard? “Yes.”

“Let’s get your intake finished, and then get you that call.”

The doctor came in, checked my vitals, poked at incisions that I wanted to punch him for, and gave me a general once-over. The trip to the bathroom was successful…and excruciating. My leg throbbed the minute it sank beneath heart-level, and that throb turned into a full-on screaming pressure the minute I stood, even with my weight on the opposite leg. It didn’t help that I’d dislocated the opposite shoulder and was basically hobbling with the full use of only one crutch.

I was a fucking mess. I looked briefly in the mirror as I left the bathroom. My face was ashen. There was a laceration above my eye and several scrapes along my right cheek. I’d gotten a glimpse of the white bandage that consumed my upper thigh. But I was alive.

Will wasn’t.

Captain Trivette wasn’t.

I struggled back to bed, accepting the nurse’s help because I was scared I’d end up on the fucking floor and tear something else. She raised my bed so I could sit up slightly, and her eyes sparkled with a grin. She was way too happy for three o’clock in the morning.

“How’s your pain level?”

“Four,” I answered through gritted teeth.

She arched a single eyebrow at me. “Liars don’t get phone calls.”

“Fine. Probably a seven.”

“Can you manage without pain meds a little longer? I have a feeling you’ll want a minute.”

“Yeah,” I answered quickly. I didn’t want to be drug-drunk when I talked to Ember.

“Okay, then give me just a second.” She walked to the door and opened it, making a “come here” motion to someone outside. Then she turned to me with a radiant smile. “She beat you here.”

My heart stopped as she walked through the door.

“December.” Thank you, God.

She cried my name and rushed to the right side of the bed. “Josh! You’re okay. You’re okay!” Her smile was water-logged, and the tears that fell from her eyes broke me in a way nothing else had.

She reached for my face but hesitated, uncertain. I grasped her hand with my left and pulled it to my cheek, leaning into it. “I was so scared,” she said, her lower lip trembling.

“I know, but I’m okay. I’m fine.” If I repeated it enough times, maybe she’d believe me. Hell, maybe I’d believe me.

She leaned down and brushed her lips against mine. I sank into her gentle kiss, savoring her taste, her soft sigh against my mouth—the small things about December I almost didn’t get to have again.

I’d almost died.

I’d almost left her alone in the world.

I’d almost been her sad story.

I lifted my left arm. “Come lay with me,” I whispered.

She looked up to the nurse, who hovered just outside the door.

“I think that might be against the rules.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Get in this bed.”

She walked around to my good side with an awkward laugh, her eyes darting over my body. “I…I don’t know where I can touch you.”

I grimaced, pain wracking my entire body as I moved over to the right. “I don’t know, either, but we’ll figure it out together, okay? But I’ll sleep ten times better with you in my arms.”

I knew the truth—she needed to be held just as much as I needed to hold her. I needed to feel her heartbeat, her warmth, hear her voice. I needed her to be real.