Contemporary Romance: Passage of Arms - A Military Romance Novel (Romance, Contemporary Romance, Military Romance, Romance Novel Book 1) (20 page)

“We did have some good mornings together,” she said softly. It was always nice to have an adult to talk to sometimes about something other than baby stuff. After a while, it seemed that without that vital piece of adult interaction mothers lost their ability to handle social interactions well. She had never wanted to be the mother that could only talk about her daughter’s achievements, bowel movements, and new little human discoveries.

“I guess I just feel uncomfortable,” Sarah murmured. She managed to meet Bruce’s eyes. She was never really good at tackling important conversations head on without tap dancing around a bush for several minutes.

Today however, after stuttering and stammering between several different thoughts, one single thought kept coming back to her: Dave’s instruction when he told her to close her eyes and choose their direction.
“Forward,”
he had responded simply.

Maybe that’s what she needed to do to get control of her life back. Move forward and stop living in the past with the what-ifs.

“Uncomfortable with what?” Bruce questioned curiously.

Sarah smiled and shrugged as she weakly gestured towards Bruce’s chest. “You, I guess,” she answered. “It’s a little weird.” She took a deep breath, feeling the knots in her gut unwind.

“On one hand, I feel really relaxed around you. It’s really nice. I don’t have to explain myself. You already know me, but then,” she sighed, and huffed before stopping completely.

“But then it’s weird because of Adam?” Bruce questioned patiently. Sarah nodded.

“Is that childish of me?” She asked timidly. Bruce smiled and shook his head.

“I just want to help,” he smiled affectionately.
Yeah…
just like Dave wanted to help. Sarah frowned. Why was she even still thinking about Dave?

“What’s that look for?”

Sarah laughed. “Nothing,” she chuckled, but Bruce’s questioning look never left his face. “It’s about that date,” Sarah answered truthfully. She was surprised at how good it felt to be honest about that. “He was pretty insistent about helping too.”

“Oh yeah?” Bruce frowned. “You know, you ought to be careful about that.” Sarah raised a brow.

“What do you mean? Careful about what?”

“Well,” Bruce shrugged, “you’re an attractive single mother,” he answered without missing a beat. “Maybe even a bit vulnerable.”

Sarah scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying that I would be careful—.”

“You were just telling me last night to move on,” Sarah’s voice rose slightly.

“Ssshhh,” Bruce chuckled. “I meant with me,” he said plainly. “You know me, you don’t know this other guy.”

Sarah didn’t hear the last part of Bruce’s words. She was stuck on the first half of what he said. “You want me to move forward with you?” Sarah questioned.

“Well, yeah,” Bruce squinted his eyes at her. “Haven’t I made that clear?”

“You keep ditching me,” Sarah pointed out. Bruce pressed his lips together and frowned. He seemed to squirm with her comment and for the first time, talking about this subject didn’t make her feel ill. She laughed.

“But, you’ve always been there, I guess,” she began to reason.

Bruce nodded eagerly. “I love you and your daughter,” he paused. “You know that, right?”

Sarah grinned. “Yeah, I do,” she answered.

“Good,” Bruce smiled. Sarah frowned and started glancing around the kitchen. “It’s 7:40, Sarah. Ruth is in the bathroom. She left the den while you were talking minutes ago.”

Sarah chuckled and scratched behind her ear. “How do you know that?”

“Military training,” he replied confidently. “It never leaves you. I am
always
aware of my surroundings.”

Sarah nodded. So they were alone. Ruth was taking a shower and she was normally gone for 20 to 30 minutes. The silence around them seemed to deepen with the realization. Sarah took a deep breath, unable to keep her eyes from Bruce’s lips. She met his eyes after a moment and smiled weakly.

“Still a ladies’ man?” She questioned teasingly.

“I was always a faithful man,” Bruce said quickly.

“Just to multiple women,” Sarah scoffed, “at the same time—.”

“Is that what you thought of me?” Bruce wasn’t laughing, and he didn’t bother hiding the anger behind his words. Sarah stammered and forced a smile.

“I was just joking,” she whispered.

“I don’t think that’s funny,” he replied in a softer tone.

Sarah pressed her lips together and let her eyes travel around the kitchen. When they landed on Bruce, she wrinkled her nose and smiled.

“Touchy touchy,” she said with a grin.

“You like pushing me,” Bruce responded in a low voice. Sarah shrugged, and didn’t bother to restrain her growing smile. “If you’re not careful I’m going to wipe that grin off your face,” Bruce warned.

“Are you threatening me?” She joked, and then as an afterthought, she poked her tongue out at him. He laughed heartily. “Take that,” Sarah wrinkled her nose at him again. “What are you going to do about it?” She raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to make a move.

Bruce opened his mouth to respond, but music began to play, Latin music with a salsa beat. His face darkened.

“I gotta get this,” Bruce muttered. He pulled the phone from his pocket and pressed it to his ear. With each second he was on this phone, his face fell and he stepped further away from Sarah. She didn’t notice. After Bruce had answered the call, she turned from him to lean over the kitchen sink.

Now that he had stepped away, her mind began to clear. She felt a bit sick with herself.
What am I doing?
Flirting with Adam’s best friend—wasn’t there some sort of guy code against that kind of thing? Granted, her husband was dead, but still—

Sarah interrupted her own thoughts by turning on the cold water. She let it run over her hands, and then pool in her cupped palms. In the morning, the water felt like it bit her fingers with their stinging chill. She let the liquid run over her moist skin and then leaned forward to dip her face into the collected water. She’d have to reapply her light coating of makeup later.

After getting her face sufficiently wet, Sarah turned the faucet off and dabbed her face dry with the towel. As she finished, she turned and glanced towards Bruce. He was different somehow. The smile and tease were completely gone from his face.

“Is everything okay?” Sarah asked. Bruce shook his head.

“What was the name of your date?” He questioned her in a voice that put her instantly on edge. Sarah frowned.

“Bruce, are you serious?”

“Please,” Bruce took a calm breath in. It was controlled, taking more effort than Sarah would think was necessary. “Just tell me.”

“Dave,” Sarah answered. She watched a flicker of agitation cross Bruce’s face. “Short for David, I guess. I never asked him about his last name.”

“Did he ever ask you about me?” Bruce questioned, his voice sharp. His demeanor was a forced calmness that unsettled Sarah’s nerves.

She shook her head. “No, why would he?”

“Don’t lie to me, Sarah,” Bruce snapped. The sudden rise in his voice made her jump. She was shaking suddenly and couldn’t get herself to stop.

“Please, don’t talk to me like that,” Sarah stammered. She took several steps away from Bruce. He advanced towards her.

“I’ll ask you one more time, Sarah,” Bruce said, suddenly calm. He stopped less than a foot away from her. “Did he ever ask you about me?”

Race Against Time

The first thing Dave noticed was the light against the back of his closed eyes. The next was the pain. It was everywhere, all over his body like pressed needles into his skin. His eyelids felt heavy but he pulled them open with an effort stronger than what should have been required.

The room was blindingly bright. The difference in lighting gave him an instant stabbing headache. He felt like his brain was throbbing against his skull, trying to grow or at the very least escape.

In an instant, a woman was at his side, cooing him and to calm himself. She wore light blue scrubs. A constant beeping registered in his ears. Dave blinked as the woman smiled at him and eased him back against the bed.

“Calm down, Mr.,” she soothed with a voice that felt like velvet.

“What?” Dave’s breathing was labored, his chest felt heavy. “What am I doing here?”

“Sssshhh,” she cooed again. “You’re at a hospital,” the woman responded, running her palms down his arms. Dave blinked, trying to push the fog out his mind.

“I know that, he said gruffly. Why?”

“You overdosed,” she responded.

Meeting her eyes, Dave just stared. Her eyes were two different colors, hazel and a light blue around the edge of her iris. She had pale skin, deep red hair and the lipstick to match. Her beauty was fogging his thought process. Dave searched for a nametag.

“Mindy? Mandy?” Dave asked, squinting at the tag on her chest.

“It’s Mandy,” she said with a nod. “Short for Amanda.”

Dave smiled. “Okay, Mandy. Tell me what happened. Be quick,” he snapped, finding his breath.

Mandy frowned. “You were released near the EMT door. We don’t know who. Someone kicked you out the car with the clothes on your back, overdosing, and going into cardiac arrest.” Dave looked over his body, the memories from the previous night slowly started to come back to him.

“You’re lucky you didn’t die,” she paused, “I mean, well, stayed dead.”

“What?” Dave met her eyes. “I died?”

“Not legally,” Mandy responded quickly. He wasn’t sure if that was meant to cheer him up. “Hey, lots of patients flat line for a little bit in the ER.”

“What was I overdosing on?”

“Cocaine,” Mandy responded, eyes narrowing. “You don’t look like an addict to me, though.”

“I’m not.  Has anyone been notified?” Dave started to sit up again. Mandy placed a firm hand on his chest.

“Sir, you can’t leave yet,” her voice took on a tense edge. Dave held her eyes. He didn’t feel like fighting with a pretty woman like her, so he let his body relax. Mandy smiled. “Thank you. To answer your question, no. You have no identification on you. Just your clothes. The doctors retrieved something though. A flash drive, from your stomach when we pumped it.”

Dave touched his stomach. “You pumped my stomach?”

“You were unconscious,” Mandy responded. “You could have had pills in there. We had no way of knowing.”

“Where’s the drive?” Dave asked eagerly. Mandy stared him down with a changing face.

“Are you planning on escaping? Like in the movies or something?”

Dave laughed, but then immediately cut the sound off. His body ached, but he couldn’t get the images from the night before out his mind. He didn’t care about the way they tried to torture him for information. Somehow he was familiar to him. Maybe someone had caught him being near Sarah. That would have made sense. He didn’t crack with the torture though. He knew how to detach from his mind and endure pain to keep his mouth shut.

Once they found out he was an agent though, everything went south, if that was even possible. His unit needed to be notified quickly. He couldn’t even be bothered with entertaining this woman for much longer.

“I need to place a phone call,” Dave said after a calming breath. “Could you set that up for me?”

Mandy took a deep breath. “Yes. I can take you to the station and you can place a call from there.”

“Thank you, Mandy,” Dave smiled. “You’re alright,” he said with a chuckle and a grin. Mandy rolled her eyes.

“I’ll go get a wheelchair.”

“Thank you,” Dave called.

Waiting for her to return felt like forever. He wanted to disconnect the monitors attached to him, but he knew that cooperation at this point was necessary to avoid any setbacks and pitfalls. It was likely to be the thing that helped him escape the hospital the fastest.

Within 20 minutes, Mandy had Dave wheeled to the main nurse station in the middle of the floor. She received disapproving glances telling Dave that she was breaking protocol, but when his team arrived to pick him up, her superiors would have to let her off the hook. He couldn’t be bothered with the rest that happened to her. He took the phone and dialed the agency’s local office number. A random man with a tired voice answered.

“FBI Nashville.”

“This is Detective David Wilder Field Agent. Patch me through to your SAC,” Dave breathed quickly. Mandy stood at his side, eyes widening as he spoke. He darted his eyes towards her and she looked down and away. He knew they would be listening but damn, he needed to call in back up and call them in fast.

“ASAC, Detective Garrowski.”

“Agent Wilder.”

“Davidson badge number and date of birth?” It was a tired voice that responded, one weathered from a no doubt ordinary day.

“Zulu foxtrot seven nine five six six nine three. Date of birth is zero five 15, 1979.”

“This is an open light, agent,” the detective finally managed.

“I’m at the hospital and need to get out. We need to assemble the team so I can relay my intel. There are possible civilians in danger—.”

“Agent, slow down,” the Detective paused. “What hospital?”

Dave glanced to Mandy. “Where am I?”

“General, Sir.”

Dave cursed. They
would
drop him off at the city hospital known for dealing with drug addicts like he was nothing more than a crack head who had one too many hits.

“Nashville General Hospital,” Dave spit into the receiver.

“We’ll have you out in 15, meeting in 30.” The line went dead.

Dave held the phone limply in his hand before he turned and met Mandy’s eyes. He stretched out his hand, suddenly feeling weak. He didn’t want to wait 30 minutes. He had to see Sarah as soon as possible, but for her safety, he had to follow orders this time.

Mandy took the phone and returned it to the receiver. She looked at Dave differently, looking him up and down silently.

“What day is it?” Dave asked her after a moment.

“The day?” Mandy repeated, looking up as she blinked. “It’s Friday.”

Dave frowned. “It’s not Thursday?” He distinctly remembered going into the warehouse late Wednesday afternoon, early evening. Mandy shook her head.

“No, Sir. You were received Wednesday, around eight at night. Your chart has the exact time,” Mandy glanced over her shoulder. “You arrived unconscious and were out for over 24 hours,” she met his eyes again, studying his face. “You almost didn’t make it.”

Those words bit deep into Dave’s soul. His breath hitched and his vision blurred with the information. He looked down at his hands. He was missing two fingernails from his right hand. He didn’t care about that. At least they hadn’t gotten to breaking his joints.

Whoever interrogated him wasn’t a novice to the line of work. That man, whoever he was, had dark, soulless eyes that hungered for death and took pleasure in seeing others in pain. Dave was certain they were going to kill him. He didn’t have time to second guess their reasoning or motive. All he knew is that he had a second chance at life and he couldn’t let it go to waste.