Casualties of Love (3 page)

“Yeah? How long was I out?”

“In and out for three days. I’ll get the doctor for you.”
              “No. I mean, sure do that, but tell me something first. Where’s my team? The men that were brought in with me. We were hit hard; I can’t be only one in here.” God, he couldn’t be the only one to make it out.
              “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I wasn’t here when you were brought in.  But, J.C. went out on the MEDEVAC and came back with you guys when you were brought in. I’ll check.”

“Ok. Check with him then. I need to know where my guys are.”

Tyson looked around the room again. Stark and white. There were two other beds in the non-descript room. There was one guy in a bed, but he didn’t recognize the sleeping Soldier, and the other bed was empty. He could hear sounds of people moving around outside the room. There was talking and shuffling and beeping machines. He let his head fall back onto the pillow and he breathed through the discomfort. The sharp tang of disinfectant hit his nostrils. He grimaced a bit, but that only seemed to increase the ache in his head. It felt like he’d been hit with a bat at the base of his skull. Lifting his left arm, he noted the wrapped fingers.
Guess I broke a few of these again.

Tyson tried, but couldn’t sit himself up. The pain that knifed its way through his outer thigh halted his feeble attempt.
Crap that hurt.
Closing his eyes, he pushed down nausea and thought back to being brought in. He knew he must have been nearly unconscious because he couldn’t remember much of it. There were bits and pieces, several flashes of memory that he couldn’t quite string together in proper order. Then, there was the weird perception of... Jessica. He’d thought Jessica Watts was there. He could swear he’d heard her voice, seen her face through a thick haze. And, wasn’t that ridiculous? He had not seen Jessica since before he graduated the Academy. That had been a long time ago.

Jessica
. He wished that he couldn’t believe that he was thinking of her; that it had been so long that he was surprised she had crossed his mind at all. He wished. The fact of the matter was that he thought about Jessica a lot more than he liked to admit. Sure, there were times when he was so keyed up or exhausted from training or focused in the field that she didn’t enter his train of thought. There had been times when there were other women that he’d been with to try and fill the void. He rarely thought of her then. But, then there were times when he would hear a voice or smell a fragrance or see smooth, bronzed skin and she was at the forefront of his thoughts for days at a time. With the last fuzzy memory of the day of the ambush, he had heard her sultry voice. That voice had called his name. He’d practically felt her touch.

Tyson frowned. He’d almost gotten killed, could easily be dead right now, and here he was thinking about the girl who had left him years ago. Tyson let out a sigh.
Shit.
It was pathetic…and still he tried to hold on to it as long as he could. He thought about her light lavender fragrance and her soft body. He thought about the way she used say his name and how she would look at him with those big brown eyes. He thought about the bright smile that would make his chest tight and his heart pound. In all the time that had passed, Tyson could still see her face in his mind’s eye.

He pictured smooth brown skin and luminous eyes that shined out of her pretty face like dark gems. He saw sensually bowed lips and a pert nose. Long, dark hair framed her high cheekbones and softly squared chin. Beautiful. Soft. Feminine.
His.
Somehow thinking of her helped with the pain in his body, though it called up the dormant ache in his heart. He moved his hand to rub that spot in his chest, and winced.

And, again, just where the hell were the pain meds? Surely these idiots knew he needed some. He’d been blown up for goodness sake!

“Dude. You’re awake!”

Tyson turned his head toward the door to find his best friend and XO being wheeled into the room. He smiled despite the discomfort.

“Damn, man, I’m glad to see you,” He said to Marcus Jones, his voice was still rough. Though, this time the raspy quality might have been from bone-deep relief rather than lack of use.

“Me? How about you? You’re the one that’s been knocked out damn near a week.” The medic that was pushing Jones helped him into the bed across from Tyson and left the room.

“Yeah, I feel like week-old crap, too.”

“You got banged up pretty good. Lot of us did, Cap. It was FUBAR, for real.”

“Yeah, I don’t remember getting here, but that I remember. Where is everybody?
How
is everybody?”

Tyson looked at his silent buddy. Marcus’ face was solemn. He knew there were things he wouldn’t want to hear, but he simply waited. Marcus would tell it to him straight.

“In a lot a ways we got lucky, Ty, but in some ways we didn’t. We’re lucky we got out at all. It was tight. Collins is probably gonna lose a foot. Lot of the boys got real dinged up. A couple, like Collins, won’t be able to come back.” Marcus paused and shook his head. “Lassiter didn’t make it.”

“Damn.” Tyson closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. “Damn.”

Lassiter was a good Soldier, a better man and friend. He was married. Had a son. Like a lot of Tyson’s men, he’d been deployed multiple times. A lot of his guys had been in the heat with him for a long time – repeated months of training, two twelve-month stints in Iraq, and now a year in Afghanistan. Lassiter deserved to make it home to his kid. Hell, everybody deserved to make it home. Too many Soldiers didn’t, though. Tyson looked back at Jones.

“Yeah, it’s no good. No good at all. I wish one of us was there to break the news to Terri. I don’t like that she’s going to hear it from a stranger, somebody who doesn’t know Lassie.”

“I hear you, but looks like me and you are stuck in here for a while. We’ll have to be there for her when we get back.” Marcus nodded. “That arm broken?” he asked Jones.

“No; the shoulder got dislocated…again. Pretty bad ankle fracture.” Jones pointed to his left ankle. “Shrap all up my back. And a concussion, though not a bad as yours.”

Tyson grunted after Jones did his rundown of injuries. It was old hat to them at this point, which would be sad except war came with injury and pain. 

“I’ll be out of this joint before you and Collins,” Marcus said with a small smile.

“Yeah, but you better get some much needed R&R while you’re here. I was probably out so long because I needed the sleep,” Tyson joked.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Marcus said with a grin. Then, he paused for a bit, looking intently at Tyson.

“What?” Tyson inquired.

“You know somebody here.”

“That didn’t sound like a question,” Tyson stated.

“It wasn’t,” Marcus replied.

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s this Sergeant.  J.C. I think the name is. Been checking on you real tight. Making sure you’re good and on their asses about managing your pain and stuff.”

“Well, I hurt like hell, so where’s this J.C. now?” He shook his head. “I don’t know anybody other than the people I’ve met since being here the last six months. What’s he look like?”

“No, man, not he. Definitely not he,” Marcus said with a grin.

“I thought I knew that Specialist that was in here when I woke up, but couldn’t tell you where from. Little bitty thing? Blonde?”

“Unh uh,” Marcus said shaking his head and broadening his smile. “This one…she’s tall and stacked to be sure. Don’t know if I’ve ever seen a Jane that pretty. Hell, any chick not just military. Smooth cocoa skin; big, pretty eyes. And, man when she talks…shit. It’s like silk.” Marcus stopped speaking and frowned at Tyson. “What? Why are you shaking your head at me?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” Tyson let his sentence drop. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t be her.

“Well, this woman is...like whoa. Super sexy. She keeps her hair pulled back in this tight bun, but I can just imagine it hanging all soft and down around her shoulders. And her body in uniform is a thing of loveliness, my friend.” Marcus suddenly looked quizzical, as if he’d just realized something. Then he said, “She could be my candidate wife.”

              Tyson ignored that and closed his eyes. Marcus found a new “candidate wife” every other month. He claimed to be determined to find a mate, but inevitably a more attractive woman would catch his eye and trump the last one for wifely status. Tyson had never known him to truly be serious about a woman. He dated, but never any one girl for too long. None of them ever measured up. To what standard, Tyson had never been privy.

Tyson took in a deep slow breath. His leg felt like it was being slowly burned from his body with a blowtorch. He heard Jones talking, but couldn’t really pay attention.

              “Hey, there’s the future Mrs. Jones. I’m gonna yell at her to get you some stuff.”

              Tyson could hear Jones hollering at some Sergeant. When he’d said the word “yell”, apparently he was being literal. Tyson supposed it wasn’t like either of them could get up and go find help. In the moment, all Tyson could think was that the other guy in the room with them must be real bad off if he could sleep through all the noise Marcus made. Then, mere seconds later, Tyson couldn’t think at all.

              “Lt. Jones,” a husky voice sounded across the room. “You…called?”

There was humor in the smooth tone that was like soft satin flowing over his skin. Tyson’s breathing increased involuntarily. His heart rate kicked up. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining things and quite frankly was almost afraid to open his eyes.
Almost, my ass. You’re totally scared to look.

“What can I do for you, Lieutenant?” the voice queried.

              Tyson mentally beat down the punk in him and lifted his lids. He noticed that even though the voice had directed the question to Marcus, the eyes of the speaker were trained on him. They were dark eyes that were sprinkled with amber flecks that he was too far away to see. The distance didn’t matter though. They were eyes that he knew better than the ones he saw every day in his own mirror.

Jessica Watts was actually standing across from him at the door to his room. She was physically present in the same space with him, not just in his head. If possible, his heart banged harder and faster. Deep brown clashed with light grey as they stared at one another.

              She was beautiful. Still. It was like looking into his dreams. Same creamy chocolate skin. Thick lashes and brows that were naturally arched. Plush and sensual lips that just screamed to be kissed. She was exactly the same, but not. She had matured. He could see something different in her eyes, something that had not lived there before. There was a… What was it? A sadness maybe, that shadowed some of the young, vibrant woman he so vividly remembered. She was still slender, but not as thin as when they were at the Academy together. His eyes flowed over her full breasts, still high and firm, down her torso and past her flared hips and thighs. The BDUs fit her to perfection, hugging her curves right down to her slender ankles that were encased in desert-colored combat boots. Jones was right; Jessica looked damn good in a uniform. But, he knew that already. Tyson admitted that she would look good to him in just about anything. Paper bags, burlap sacks…nothing at all. He couldn’t believe she was standing there.
His
Jessica.

Ok, so not his anymore.

He couldn’t look away and she didn’t break the connection, so it went on for long moments until Jones conspicuously cleared his throat.

              “Um, so, yeah. My captain needs something for his pain.” When they didn’t appear to hear him, Jones went on a little louder. “He’s in
pain
, Sergeant.” As Marcus snapped out her rank, his voice broke through their shared spell.

              Jessica’s eyes flicked over to Marcus, but quickly returned to Tyson. He noted the slight tightening around her eyes as she studied him.

              “You’re hurting…sir?” Jessica asked him.

Her voice was soft. There was an undertone of concern that he was surprised to hear. After all, she’d left his ass high and dry.

              “Some, Sergeant,” Tyson answered.

              Without saying anything else she left the room. Tyson nearly shouted out for her to stay. He had found her and wasn’t even aware he was looking. Her walking away in that moment did something to his insides. It felt real close to panic but he managed to tamp it down.

              “So…like I said. You know her,” Marcus’ voice reached Tyson across the room.

              “I used to know her,” Tyson allowed.

              “Who is she to you?”

              “No…” Tyson stopped. He couldn’t even say it. She would never be “nobody” to him. “Like I said, someone I used to know. I haven’t seen her in five years, maybe even close to six.” Who was he kidding? He knew exactly how long it had been since he’d seen Jessica Watts.

              “J.C.?” Marcus queried. Tyson knew he wanted her name.

“Her name is Jessica. Jessica Caroline Watts. I guess they’re using the initials.”

“Well, she’s been here
every day
.”

              “So?” Tyson asked with a frown.

              “
So
…the way you guys just stared at each other and the way she’s been hovering, it seems like you
know
her.”

Marcus said the last with a raised brow just before Jessica returned to the room. His meaning wasn’t lost on Tyson, but Tyson didn’t have time to respond. She approached him and his body tensed in response to her nearness…and the overwhelming need to touch her.

******

              Jessica walked over to Tyson’s bed. She had a syringe that she used to inject pain medication into his fluids. She had just ripped a “new one” for the private on duty that had fouled up Tyson’s medication schedule. As the medicine moved into his system, she could see his brow relax and the lines around his sensually curved mouth smooth out. She tried not to stare at his lips.

He relaxed back into the bed and Jessica couldn’t resist using her hand to brush down his bedding. It was as close as she could come to touching Tyson, and she needed to do it. Being this close to him for the last few days just emphasized what she had already known. She had never gotten over him. As her hand came to rest at the edge of the bed, Tyson covered it with his own warm palm. Jessica had to fight the whimper that threatened to escape her because of the warm feeling in her gut that his touch invoked. She looked up from their hands to look into his storm-colored eyes.