Operation: Endurance (When the Mission Ends) (5 page)

He winced as he stretched out his left leg. His knee had taken a beating yesterday and he was paying for it this morning. He probably should take some ibuprofen with that coffee, too.

He was about to take off when he heard the crack of a breaking stick from behind Julie’s townhouse. The sound seemed too large to have come from an animal. He peered through the darkness, but couldn’t see anything. He jogged quickly and quietly around the side of the house. As he came around the corner, a large bush swayed, but there wasn’t a breeze this morning. He didn’t see anything or anyone, but something big had definitely been back here.

He stood next to the bush and glanced back toward Julie’s townhouse. He could see straight into her bedroom where she sat on her bed wearing nothing but a robe, the material gaping so her gorgeous, full breasts were in clear view. His mouth dried out as he took in the view. She had a pen tucked into the corner of her mouth while she looked through a binder. Her tongue flicked across the end of it and he groaned at the sight.

She was so incredibly sexy. He desperately wanted to pick up where they’d left off fourteen months ago. Thoughts of her had kept him alive while he was tortured and brutalized for months on end, but even as sexy as she looked right now, he remained limp. What kind of future was that? He couldn’t be what she needed in a man. He shut his eyes as the desolation of the situation pounded through his brain.

Suddenly he realized where he was standing and what he was doing. He was no better than whoever else had been out here. He glanced back around the tiny backyard, full of bushes. Had someone else been standing here enjoying this same view? The hair on the back of his neck prickled as he loped around to the front of her house.

Chris took a deep breath and knocked on Julie’s front door. He tried to look friendly while standing there at 4:00 in the morning, instead of like a crazed stalker.

She cracked the door open and peered out at him from under the chain. “Chris?”

“Yeah, sorry. I saw your light on. Can I come in?”

“Sure. Hang on.” The door shut while she disengaged the chain and then she pulled it open wide to allow him entrance. She glanced at him curiously while she clutched the top of the robe together. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know it’s late or early…depending on your perspective.”

“No, that’s fine. I was up. Come on in. I have some coffee made in the kitchen. Would you be interested in some?”

“God, yes. I was just wondering if my coffee pot was unpacked yet.”

She poured him a cup and he tried not to stare at her toned legs peeking out from below the extremely short silky robe. As she handed the mug to him, he cleared his throat. “Thanks,” he managed to croak out. She remembered that he drank it black.

“Were you out running?” She gestured toward his workout gear. As she frowned at his swollen knee, he could see her physical therapist’s brain cataloguing the issues with it.

“I was about to, but then I heard a noise from behind your house. Have you heard anything suspicious back there tonight?”

She shook her head. “No, but I had my music on, so I’m not sure if I would have heard anything.”

He could hear soft country music floating in from her bedroom now that she mentioned it. “Okay, I didn’t see anyone, but something— either a big animal or a person— was behind your townhouse tonight. I went back there to check it out and realized that if it was a person, they were probably looking in your bedroom window. I could see you very clearly from out there.”

His face heated as blood rushed to his cheeks. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to spy on you. I was just checking things out.”

She waved him aside. “No big deal. Thanks for checking it. We have lots of big dogs around here that escape from their yards. I’m sure it was probably just one of them wandering through.”

“Maybe.” He wasn’t so sure, but he didn’t want to scare her needlessly. “Just make sure your doors and windows are locked and closed up at night.”

She gave him a mock salute. “Yes sir.” She cocked her head at him curiously. “Cassie mentioned you aren’t sleeping very well. Nightmares or pain?” She gestured down to his swollen knee.

“A little bit of both.” He didn’t want to get into what all that entailed, so he immediately pushed at her demons. “That’s why I’m up, but what are you doing up at this ungodly hour?”

She shrugged. “I don’t sleep a whole lot anymore. This probably doesn’t help.” She lifted her coffee cup. “I don’t sleep at night so I drink more caffeine during the day to keep me awake which makes it even harder to sleep. I think I’ve buried myself in a huge Catch-22 here.” She smiled at him softly. “Plus I probably have a few nightmares myself. It’s just easier not to sleep.”

“I understand all that.” He lifted his coffee cup in a mock salute. “But now we live next door to each other so we can keep each other company through the long nights.” His heartbeat picked up at that idea, but he couldn’t pursue it. Even if he was whole—which he wasn’t—she was buried under grief over another man.

“Feel free to come over anytime,” she said.

Heaven help him. He thought those six months being held captive were torture. Living next to and maintaining a platonic friendship with Julie may prove to be just as difficult.

It was most definitely a Monday morning. After not sleeping most the night, Julie fell asleep just as she was supposed to be getting up. As a result, she’d overslept and was now—she glanced down at her watch—forty-five minutes late. Damn!

On top of that, because she was late she had to park in the lot where she swore she would never go again, the one where Aaron was gunned down. She’d managed to avoid this parking lot since he’d died. He’d bled out mere steps from the hospital doors with emergency personnel everywhere. The irony was tragic, which pretty much summed up everything about Aaron’s life. It wasn’t fair. He’d deserved so much better, from both her and his life.

She wiped her sweaty palms onto the pants of her scrubs and peered out through her windshield. She could do this. She just had to ignore the rolling in her stomach and not think about it. The goal here was to get in the door without getting sick. A bead of sweat trickled down her spine as she stepped out of the car and walked quickly toward the door, trying not to draw attention to herself.

As she walked, she tried to create a mental list of what she needed to do today, but she couldn’t focus enough to even start it. Her eyes kept darting to the spot on the pavement where she knew he’d lain breathing his last breaths.

Her pulse pounded as she scrambled across the asphalt as quickly as she could without actually sprinting. The rolling in her stomach became incrementally worse. She cleared the doors and the blast of air conditioning slapped her face. It should have helped with the nausea, but didn’t. Heading straight for the women’s restroom, she violently lost her breakfast. The tears ran down her face as she slumped down the wall of the bathroom stall.

When her breathing began to slow, Julie became more aware of her environment. Thank God. It didn’t sound like anyone else was in the bathroom to witness her lack of self-control. She yanked some toilet paper out of the dispenser and wiped at her lingering tears and the cold sweat on the back of her neck. Flushing it down the toilet, she stood up straight and pushed her shoulders back. Nothing to do but go on. As she exited the stall, she dug in her purse for her spare toothbrush. Thank goodness, she at least had that.

She managed to avoid the mirror while she brushed her teeth, but couldn’t do so indefinitely.

As she met her own gaze in the mirror, it seemed like she observed a stranger. And from where she stood, that stranger was quickly unraveling. Throwing up had just enhanced the dark circles under her eyes and the lines of fatigue and stress bracketing her mouth.

Maybe it was time to go for some help, although she wasn’t sure she could go to her sister, Rachel, again. Even though she was a psychologist, following her advice had blown up in her face spectacularly the first time.

Thinking back to the card Pete had given her after class, she considered. Maybe that was her answer, but no, she wasn’t ready to take that step yet. This could be handled just fine. She just needed to be more disciplined, in control. That was the answer. It would work for her. It always had before, it could again.

She pulled the bathroom door open and stepped back out into the hallway, glancing surreptitiously around the crowded corridor. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice her as she slunk toward the physical therapy wing of the hospital.

She didn’t have any morning appointments today so she wasn’t letting down any patients by arriving over an hour late, but her boss wasn’t going to be happy with her.

The reception area was quiet and Julie simply nodded toward the questioning grimace of Melody, the physical therapy department’s receptionist. She knew there’d be no escaping her questions later, but for now, she didn’t slow her pace.

Julie managed to sink into her office chair without anyone stopping her. Her heart still pounded through her chest as she lowered her head into her hands on her desk. Concentrating on controlling her breaths to keep from hyperventilating, the adrenaline began to wear off and the shaking began.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She looked up into Derek’s pitying eyes. She hated that look of pity, but he was a nice guy and her co-worker. With a wife and a young baby at home, the kind-hearted, red haired physical therapist had covered way too much for her lately. It was past time for her to gather control of her life. Regardless of anything else, this wasn’t fair to her co-workers or patients.

“Not really, no.”

His lips pressed into a frown. “Well, you need to pull yourself together quick. Dr. Shelby’s on the warpath this morning. I don’t think he noticed you were late, but he’s been a bear about everything, regardless. It would be a good idea to stay out of his way.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

Derek waved his acknowledgement and headed down the hall.

Julie grabbed a stack of files and her list for today’s projects. She had a ton of patient files that needed to get updated. She also needed to work on a new therapy plan for a couple of patients who weren’t responding well to their current regimen.

She was immersed in her files when a knock sounded at her office door. Dr. Luke Shelby stood there, her boss and head of the Physical Therapy Department. He was a handsome widower in his mid-forties, with salt and pepper hair, and a very fit physique, but his perpetual scowl always intimidated her and made it hard for her to see him as anything other than her boss.

Even worse, he’d been one of Aaron’s friends, so she always wondered how much he knew. Did he know what an awful girlfriend she’d been to Aaron and the details of their relationship? She tried not to think about it, but at times like this when he studied her like she was a puzzle, it crossed her mind.

“Can I help you, Dr. Shelby?”

“Yes,” he seemed to shake himself out of his stupor, “I was wondering if you have Benita Alvarez’s treatment plan modified yet?”

She reached into the box which held the files she’d already completed this morning. “Yes, it’s right here. I changed the items we discussed and also implemented a regimen of massage which I think will help loosen her atrophied muscles better.”

“Good, good.” He took the file from her. “I’ll look it over and get back to you on it.” He took a step away before he hesitated. He turned back around and shut the door.

Julie tried to calm the frisson of alarm clanging through her head. This was just her boss. “Was there something else, Dr. Shelby?”

“Yes, and this is rather awkward for me, but I can’t stay quiet any longer.”

A ball of dread settled into the pit of her stomach.

“I understand what it’s like to grieve, but there comes a certain point where you have to function again. Julie, every day, you’re looking worse, not better. You’re going to make yourself sick.  I can’t allow that in my department. I think it’s time that you talk to someone. Maybe even get some medication.”

She started shaking her head, but he held his hand up to forestall her.

“There’s no shame in needing help. Losing a loved one is hard, especially when it’s so sudden. I could recommend a good grief counselor if you need one.”

Julie resisted the urge to wrap her arms protectively around her middle. Why did she feel like she was about to shatter? “Thank you, sir, but that’s not necessary. I already have someone who was recommended to me.”

He eyed her shrewdly. “And do you plan to call this therapist?”

She met his worried gaze. She couldn’t lie to him, but she couldn’t promise to call, either. She could get this under control on her own.

He sighed deeply and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Okay, I can see where you stand on this right now, but tonight when you aren’t sleeping—again—I want you to think about it. Right now I’m not insisting, but if you continue to go downhill, I will insist on therapy for your continued employment here. I can’t allow our patients to suffer.”

Panic seized her. “Has something happened that I don’t know about?”

He shook his head. “No, not yet, but if you continue on this path, it’s just a matter of time. I will not allow that to happen. Do you understand?”