Hold On (Delos Series Book 5) (24 page)

“Hi, Dr. Brennan. I’m Dr. Dara McKinley, her sister,” Dara told him. “I’m registered here with the hospital and have a right to practice here.”

Callie uttered a small cry and threw her good arm around Dara. They hugged each other, and then Matt entered the cubicle.

“Okay, Dr. McKinley, so long as you’re authorized to practice, I’m fine with it.” Brennan stared hard at the two Delta soldiers and told them sternly, “Family only.”

Dara snapped, “He is family, doctor. He’s my fiancé and he saved my life.”

Brennan scowled but realized he was outnumbered, and given the circumstances he decided to back off. He stepped forward, gently lifting Callie’s right arm to carefully examine the break.

Meanwhile, Matt went over to greet Beau, and the two men heartily embraced one another, relief that they’d both survived in their faces. And then Callie realized Beau looked pale beneath his tan. What was wrong with him?

Before she could ask him, he turned to her. “Callie, I’ll be back in about half an hour at the most.” He touched her cheek. “Dara will stay with you until I can return. I’ll be back, I promise.”

Giving a nod, and before she could ask anything, the Delta Force operators left the cubicle. Beau was limping, her gaze on his muddy pants, and she knew something was wrong. But what? She wanted to ask, but Dara was talking to the doctor about her broken arm. Dara was here, however. She was cleaned up, wearing civilian clothes, looking weary, but all right. Her sister remained right beside her, like a guard dog.

“Thank goodness you’re okay!” she told Dara, tears springing to her eyes. “They told us you were rescued earlier.”

Dara smoothed Callie’s red hair away from her face. The strands were matted with dust and debris.

“Are you really all right, Dara?”

She shared a tired smile with her. “It was rough, but we’re okay. Callie, what happened to you and Beau?” She couldn’t keep the strain out of her voice. Callie appeared to have been rolled in the dust. She was positively filthy, with fine gray dust all over her body, coating her face and neck.

Callie closed her eyes. “I-I can’t talk about it right now, Dara. My arm . . . it hurts . . .”

Leaning forward, Dara gently slid her arm around Callie’s shoulder. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “Everything’s going to be all right, Callie. You’re here. You’re safe . . . I was so worried about you . . . about Beau . . . Thank God you’re alive . . .”

Matt reentered her cubicle, and Callie saw he had his operator’s expression in place.

Tears trickled down through Callie’s dusty cheeks. She sniffed and tried to wipe them away, her hand trembling badly. “Why was Beau limping? Did you know that he saved my life?”

Matt moved around them. “He took a gunshot wound to his left calf, but he’ll be okay. I just took him down to another cubicle here, and there’s a doc who’s going to fix him up. I’ll go find out his full status, Callie.” He noted her pain-filled eyes. “I’ll be right back.”

Callie sniffed again and Dara pulled a tissue from her pants pocket, slipping it into her sister’s hand. “What happened?” she demanded quietly, holding her sister’s stare. Dara recognized the signs of deep shock.

“Later,” she muttered, wiping her eyes. “I’m so desperately in need of a shower, Dara.” She choked, squeezing her eyes shut. “Just a shower . . .”

“I’m having her taken to X-ray,” Brennan said to Dara. He looked Callie up and down. “Do you need rape counseling, Ms. McKinley?”

Dara gasped, her gaze flying from Dr. Brennan to her sister.
Rape?

“N-no. Just get me something for the pain in my arm, okay?” Callie asked the doctor.

Brennan gave a brisk nod and said, “I’ll get an orderly to take you to X-ray. In the meantime, please lie down.”

Callie grimaced as the doctor left. “He’s got the bedside manner of an alligator,” she rasped, wiping her eyes with the damp tissue.

Dara came closer, her arm around Callie’s slumped shoulders. “Rape? Were you raped, Callie?” She tried to hold it together. She didn’t want to hear Callie say yes, but her sweater was torn, dirty, bloodied, with brain matter splattered across it, and she was disheveled.

Even now, Dara could see bruising around her sister’s slender throat. What had happened?

“I was almost raped,” Callie croaked, then laid her head on her sister’s shoulder. “It was awful, Dara. We were on the run. The Taliban was closing in on us. Beau had me hide behind a huge pine tree and told me to stay put. He had to sneak around a group of Taliban. He was going to come up behind the riders and take them out. There must have been six more soldiers behind them.” Tears dribbled down her cheeks and she licked her lips, tasting the salt, the grit of dirt on them.

Dara held her breath, absorbing her sister’s words. “So what happened?”

“They found me because I ran when I should have stayed put,” she muttered, lifting her head, trying to move her shoulders to get rid of the tension. “They galloped over and captured me. I started screaming and fighting them. Beau heard me and came running back.” She closed her eyes. “They’d taken me down, yanked my sweater apart, tearing it, pawing at me. And they were holding me by my wrists and ankles, Dara. They’d pulled my jeans around my knees when Beau attacked them.” She pressed her hand to her eyes, a sob escaping her. “It was—horrible . . .”

Dara held her gently in her arms, and Callie gripped her with her good arm, clinging to her, as if to release her would be to lose her forever. “I’m so sorry, Callie. How awful. But thank God, at least you weren’t raped. That’s the good news.” Dara felt a huge sob work up and out of Callie. She held her sister, stroked her dusty, mussed hair, wishing she could get her to a shower and help her clean up.

Callie smelled of sweat and fear, and Dara forced herself not to cry with her. Right now, Dara had to be the strong one so she could care for her sister and give her a sense of safety.

An orderly came in to take Callie to X-ray, but Dara gave him a hard look and a firm shake of her head, warning him silently to come back later. The young man hesitated, saw the situation, lifted his hand, and gave her an apologetic look, quietly exiting.

Soothing her little sister, Dara kept whispering, “You’re safe now, Callie. You’re safe. It’s going to be all right. You’re in shock right now, and I’m sure you feel like you’re flying apart inside.”

She knew because she had felt the same way when running with Matt up that mountain to escape their enemy. This was so much worse than she could have imagined. Brave, vital Callie had been reduced to a huddled mouse, her eyes wild with terror, dark with anguish. Dara had never seen her like this before. Callie was in constant pain from her arm, traumatized by the near rape and the threat of a horrific death.

“I need to know how Beau is!” Callie demanded, lifting her head, no longer trying to stop the tears from running down her dirty face. “My God, Dara, he took all of them on! One man against all of those sick, murdering bastards. He exposed himself to them to save me.” She pressed her hand to her face, bowing her head, a wracking sob tearing out of her.

Matt reentered quietly, his gaze cutting to Dara, and she saw beneath the mask on his face, the tightness of his mouth, his eyes alive with emotions. “Can you get me the head nurse?” she asked Matt. “Now, please?”

“Yeah,” he said, studying Callie for a moment. Turning, he left the cubicle.

In moments, the head nurse, an Army major about fifty years old, entered into the cubicle.

Dara said, “I’m Dr. McKinley. This is my sister, Callie. She’s been through hell. I need you to authorize that women only be with her, no men. And I need to get her cleaned up. Is it possible to place a stabilizing splint around her arm for now? It appears to be a closed break. I’ll escort her to X-ray after she gets cleaned up.”

The nurse nodded. “Yes. I’ll get a woman doctor to take over here. Stay put.”

Matt reentered and stood at the end of the examination table, saying nothing, silently appraising Callie’s condition. Her sobs stopped and she lifted her head, her eyes swimming with tears.

“Beau?” she croaked.

“He’s okay,” Matt said soothingly. “The bullet in his calf went clean through, and they’re patching him up right now, Callie. He took a bullet to his Kevlar vest and there’s a big bruise, but that’s all. He’s going to be fine. They’ll release him in probably half an hour.”

Pressing her hand to her chest across the torn sweater, she whispered, “Oh, thank God . . .”

Dara motioned to the table. “Matt? Can you get me a gown over there for Callie? I want to get her out of these filthy clothes right now.”

Matt walked over and handed her a gown. “Call me when I can come back in,” he said, giving her a light squeeze to her arm.

“Yes,” Dara said. “Stand guard out there, okay? The head nurse is getting her a removable splint. Let her in, but don’t let anyone else in until I’m done dressing Callie. And if that Dr. Brennan comes back, tell him we’ve got this covered. We no longer need his services.”

“You got it,” Matt murmured, trying to curb a grin. Dara was pissed off. The blaze of anger in her eyes was something to behold. His woman could command legions with that voice and look, no question. She had one hell of a temper when she wanted to demonstrate it. Matt made a note to keep that in mind.

The head nurse quickly returned with the removable splint. “Will you wash the area, Dr. McKinley? And then I’ll place this support around her broken arm,” she said.

In minutes, Callie had a waterproof, removable splint on her arm, and Dara could already see the relief from the pain in her eyes. She thanked the nurse, who then left. “Let’s get you out of these clothes,” she murmured. “You’ll feel better in a clean gown.”

Dara suddenly felt the threat of tears and pushed them back. Right now, Callie needed her to be strong, guiding, and supportive. As she helped Callie into the gown, Dara saw bruising all over her body, front and back. And so many scratches and gouges. She didn’t know the details, but Dara strongly suspected the men had held her down on rough, rocky ground when they were about to rape her.

Terror, combined with rage, roared through Dara, but she swallowed hard and kept her calm face on. In a matter of minutes, Callie had a blanket over her shoulders.

Grabbing another cloth left by the head nurse, Dara fashioned a sling for her right arm, and as soon as she tied it around her neck, Callie sighed.

“That feels so much better,” she whispered with relief, leaning back against the gurney, closing her eyes. “Thanks, sis. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here . . .”

“I’ll be with you every step of the way,” Dara promised her, her voice breaking. She watched as Callie was placed in a wheelchair by a woman orderly. Dara insisted on pushing her out of the ER. She knew the women’s showers and locker room were located in the basement from her own experience hours earlier, and she took her sister down there to help her get cleaned up.

Callie stood for a long time beneath the warm shower stream after Dara helped her wash her dirty hair and put conditioner into it. She also had her turn so she could soap up the places on her body where Callie couldn’t reach because of her broken arm. Never had Callie been so grateful for Dara’s help.

“Did you call Mom and Dad to say I was found?” she asked, the water running over her shoulders and back.

Dara nodded. “Yes, everyone’s been notified. I called them. They’re overjoyed. Mom asked you to call her when you felt up to it.”

“Can you call her back and tell her I’m okay? Right now, I’m a ball of up-and-down emotions. All I want to do is cry. Don’t mention the near rape. I don’t want them to know. It will just upset Mom and Grandma horribly.”

“Don’t worry,” Dara promised her, gently washing her upper arm and then carefully washing her wrist below the splint, making sure she was clean. “As soon as I can get you assigned a private bed in this hospital, I’ll call everyone and let them know. Okay?”

“F-fine, thanks. How are you doing, Dara?” She stared into Dara’s eyes. Callie could see exhaustion and terror still rooted deep in them.

“Listen, we’ll talk more about our adventures tomorrow, okay? Matt got me out of that awful ambush and we’re both okay. Better off than you are, presently.” She managed a little teasing grin. “But you’ll bounce back, Callie. I know you, and this isn’t going to hold you down.”

But Callie didn’t feel sure about anything. “I worry about Beau. He never told me he was wounded.”

Snorting, Dara finished crouching down to wash each of Callie’s feet. “Why am I not surprised? These guys are Delta Force, Callie. They don’t complain about a little gunshot wound. They just want to focus and get the mission completed. And he sure did that with you, didn’t he, sis?”

D
ara thanked Dr.
Ann Bartel, Callie’s newly assigned physician, for being there for her sister. She had been responsible for getting Callie placed on the orthopedic ward floor, away from all the noise and hectic activity. When Ann suggested an antianxiety medication for Callie, her sister refused it. She wasn’t a pill taker and hated medications in general. The only medication she would take was an antibiotic, but it had to be truly necessary for her to agree even then.

Dara saw her sister’s energy ebbing away. She understood—she was dealing with her own exhaustion and stress from escaping the Taliban, who had pursued them in the mountains. Dara promised her she’d call their parents and grandparents before she left with Matt to get some sleep in the Eagle’s Nest.

After they left, the small room became quiet. It was still dark outside, and Callie had no idea what time it was. She missed Beau, and she was worried about his wounds. She desperately needed his calming presence, because she was beginning to come apart, little by little. When she closed her eyes, she saw flashes of the whole violent scene where she had been caught and captured, the men laughing at her as they splayed her on the ground, ripping at her sweater and jeans. Callie had never felt so helpless or enraged, unable to fight back except to scream for help.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Beau stood there, grinning. “How’s my special gal doing?”