The Heart's Shrapnel Page 3

  For the first time since entering this room, I take note of the person lying facedown on the hospital bed. He’s male and has a large frame.

  “Okay,” I say more to myself before washing my hands and arms at the sink. Taking a set of purple gloves, I put them on.

  “Now, Dr. Summers, this man has just been brought in. I’ve already had a look at him, but since this is your first day, I’ll give you the honors in fixing him up. The floor is yours, but to state the obvious, he has a gunshot to his left shoulder.”

  Dr. Green steps back, allowing me ample room to assess my patient. He’s definitely army. His haircut alone suggests that.

  Untying his gown, I fold it down just enough to see a gaping hole. Since I have free rein to do as I please, I take matters into my own hands and call for two nurses.

  “Lift the left side of him toward me please.” Stepping around the bed, I politely ask one of them to move while I take her place lifting the man. “There’s no exit wound,” I state and tell the nurse to lower him back down.

  “Correct,” Dr. Green agrees.

  Examining the man’s wound, I find pieces of the bullet. Something else catches my attention.

  “This will be a complicated extraction,” I tell the surgeon.

  “Oh . . . why so?”

  He already knows. It’s in the way he asks the question.

  “Well, the bullet not only broke, but it’s roughly four centimeters from his heart.”

  “Yes, the patient is very lucky. He could have died. Very good, Summers.”

  After I’ve received my pat on the back, I quickly prep the patient for surgery. The bullet is lodged deep in his shoulder and takes a little over an hour to safely remove it with all of its tiny pieces. Not to mention that all it would take is a slip of my fingers to puncture his heart.

  I move to other patients throughout the day and eventually check on the man I fixed at the start of my shift. He’s now laying on his back. I move closer, able to make out his features more clearly. His golden skin suggests he’s spent some time in the sun, and nature has been kind. He’s got the most beautiful features I have ever seen on a man. He’s not what one would call pretty. No, he’s very male with straight, hard features.

  His eyes start to open, and I hold my breath until they do. He blinks ever so slowly before gazing at me. It only lasts a few moments, but I see hazel eyes before he loses his battle to the medicine.

  Chapter Five

  Phillip

  An angel. That’s the first thing I see when I wake. She has the most gorgeous bright, chocolate brown eyes to match her dark, wavy hair.

  “Hey, man. You awake?”

  What the hell? Leonard?

  “Where is she?” I mutter groggily. It’s like I haven’t slept in days. I feel like shit.

  “She?” his brows knit in confusion.

  I press the button on the side of the hospital bed to lift myself.

  “Never mind.” I shake my head. “What is it?”

  “Spoke with the army general this morning. Filled him in on your condition. I can’t tell if he was shocked or upset. Paperwork and all that. Anyway, you’re golden.”

  “Yeah, thanks for that by the way. You could have given me a warning.”

  Leonard smirks. “I did you a favor by catching you off guard, man. Gave you less time to think about it. Plus, it had to look identical to . . . you know.” He shifts uncomfortably while looking around the room.

  “I guess that’s true. Get me out of here.” I start pulling on my tubes and wires. Leonard grabs at my hands.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “What does it look like?” I retort.

  “Don’t you need to be released or—”

  “I’m releasing myself.” Getting out of the bed, I take a minute to steady myself. My jaw clenches as I try to hold back the pain. “I’m a sergeant, remember? I can do whatever the hell I want.” Not really, but I like to tell myself that.

  My clothes lay neatly folded over a nearby chair. The site where the bullet went in is tight. With cautious movements, I work to put on everything.

  “How are you going to explain this to Ryan?” he asks as we head to the main lobby. I grab the clipboard from the main desk and sign my name out.

  “I’ll think of something. I’ve been doing this job for many years, Leonard. I’m no rookie.”

  “I know, man. Just . . . this is different.”

  Dropping the pen, I turn and leave with him right on my heels. “You’re damn straight this is different.”

  ***

  “McClintock, get your ass in here pronto!” The general barks as he storms past me.

  “Jesus, what did you do, man?” Ryan asks as we wait outside our workstation.

  Hell if I know.

  “Guess I better see.”

  I walk into headquarters. General Mayfield sits in his chair, scribbling something on a sheet of paper. His look wouldn’t be complete without his signature scowl. I’ve learned this rather early in the game.

  “You wanted to see me, sir?” I take my place by the chair opposite his desk, but choose to stand. I will not sit and lower myself as he unleashes his anger over God knows what.

  He looks up, takes a long, good look at me, and rubs a hand down the front of his face.

  “What is this shit I hear about Sanders being sent back to post?”

  That’s why he’s pissed?

  News travels fast. Right after leaving the hospital, another soldier informed me about Sander’s wife. It was a no-brainer.

  “His wife was having contractions, sir. I felt it was best to relieve him of his training for the next couple weeks.”

  The general’s eyes widen at my admission. “What the hell good is he to us on post? And who made you think you had the authority to do so?” He stands and rests both fists on the table—an intimidation tactic.

  Play the role, McClintock.

  “With all due respect, sir, he’s not any good to us here.” I retort. “His head isn’t in the game. You didn’t see him. He’ll get us all killed if we were in a combat situation.”

  General Mayfield’s lips thin as he raises a finger to my face. He knows I’m right.

  I’m always right.

  “You just make sure you clear your requests through me before you do something stupid like that again, soldier, or I’ll demote you. You understand me? Apparently I need to remind you that you are only a sergeant!”

  Spit hits my face, but I don’t acknowledge it.

  “Your duty is to oversee these men—this small team you command—to set an example, and have standards for them to look up to. What message does sending one home for maternity leave give? As I said, report to me from now on.”

  Yeah, he’s pissed, but it isn’t at me. I’m just convenient. I do have command and authority over a group of men, however small. And it was my call to make and I did. He mutters something about how I’ve never done this kind of thing before. That Phillip probably didn’t, but this one sure as hell does.

  “Not a problem, sir.” I clench my jaw to hold back what I really want to say. I wonder what it is that has him so riled? He does command a whole army, and so I imagine it could be any number of things.

  “You’re damn right it isn’t a problem,” he repeats before glancing over to my left shoulder in a temporary sling that Leonard made me put on. “Heard about you accidentally being shot.” His voice softens. “I want to assure you I have the appropriate people looking into it. Probably some recruit messing around. Did you happen to get a look at who it may have been?”

  I seriously doubt he has people on it, but the general is a highly respected man, from what they say, even though he could use a new personality, and so I suspect he would inquire about such a thing.

  “Someone informed me that you were dead,” he continues, a look of confusion on his face. “But, nonetheless, I’m glad that isn’t the case. You’ve been a valuable asset to us.”


  Someone informed him that I was dead? Maybe someone did see the shooting.

  My body starts to sweat. There’s so much he doesn’t know—so much he can’t know. “Thank you, sir. Will that be all?”

  His phone rings, interrupting his production I suspect he’d prepared. With great effort, I maintain a neutral face.

  He listens into the phone and talks to the person on the other end, then turns to me.

  “What the hell are you still doing here? Go do your job!” I can feel the muscle in my jaw tick, and my blood temperature rises. He’s pushing it.

  I nod and head out.

  “You get your balls hacked off?” Ryan asks as he uses a pocket knife to slice his apple. He’s the jokester of the bunch, but his question isn’t all that crazy.

  “Not yet. But the general sure is a moody prick.”

  “Good, cuz you won’t be any use to the ladies if your male bits are rotting in a dumpster somewhere in Germany. And since when does it shock you that the general is a hormonal ass? He’s been like that from day one, my friend.”

  I push him, and he staggers off the tree stump he sits on but doesn’t fall all the way down. His apple does, though.

  Ryan laughs and wipes off his jeans. “You son of a bitch.”

  “Always got to be prepared. Have I not taught you anything?”

  “Yeah, here lately you’ve taught me not to lead by your example with the ladies. I know that much. I think you are taking your position too seriously. You used to be a ladies’ man.” Sitting back on the stump, Ryan places his shades over his eyes.

  I lower my brows. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just leading the life you do will keep you from getting laid. Dude, that party last night was full of chicks. I understand some rookie accidentally shot you and all, but . . .”

  How did we go from the general wanting to cut off my balls to women?

  “I had other things on my mind.” I turn away and look at the other men so he can’t see my face.

  “Bullshit! ‘Other things on my mind,’ Hell, if you have other things on your mind at a party with tons of horny women, then I hate to break it to you, dude . . .” He lets the comment hang.

  “Hate to break what to me?”

  “You’re gay.”

  My head snaps to him. I know he’s just pissing with me. From what I understand, he’s always like this, but today I’m not in the mood.

  “Not hooking up with a woman makes me gay?”

  “Yeah. News flash.” He walks to the table and grabs another apple.

  “News flash? What are you a seven-year-old girl?”

  “Would that get your attention?” he shoots back, turning around and wiggling his brows.

  “You’re an ass. You know that?”

  “Yep. And the ladies love it.”

  “Sure they do.”

  “You’ll see. Go to Francesca’s with a group of us Friday. Stop being such a stickler. You know, you can have fun even when you are out here.”

  Fun? I don’t remember what the hell that is.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Ryan comes to put a hand on my shoulder giving me a hard pat. “You can and you will, or I will have the guys drag your ass there. Don’t make us make a scene. You already seem to be in hot water.”

  Not yet, Ryan. Not yet.

  But he’s right. That little thing I’ve done out of kindness pissed off the general. He’s already giving me strange looks. A man such as him probably senses a difference. I’ve noted several odd looks since I’ve been here. I need to hang low and act normal. And for that reason alone, I’ll go.

  “Fine.”

  “All right! Now we are talkin’. And, this Friday will be special.”

  “Why’s?” I humor him.

  “Matt from basic training says a nice size group of women from the states got recruited because of there’s not enough nurses or some shit right now. Said there were a few smoken’ hot ones.”

  “Yeah, well, from what I gather, Matt will do anything that doesn’t have three legs.”

  “Ha! I’d argue with you, but I know you’re right. Either way, it’ll be a fun night of beer at least. Plus, we could use the distraction.”

  “Can’t say no to that.”

  Chapter Six

  Jane

  “Move over. You could use some help.”

  I put down my mascara and face Mandy. We’re both trying to squeeze into this tiny bathroom to get ready for a much needed night out. This week has been busy, to say the least.

  “I know. I’m not used to doing makeup.”

  Mandy picks up the mascara and starts applying it to my lashes.

  All three of us have become super close this past week, and I don’t think I could have done it without them.

  “That’s because you don’t need it,” she says as she sticks out her tongue. “Now, purse your lips.”

  “Hey, guys.” Lily comes in, leaving even less room, but we make it work.

  “Hey,” we both answer.

  She stands behind us and starts applying her makeup.

  “So, is this a normal thing they do every Friday night?” I ask Mandy.

  “What, Francesca’s? Yeah, from what I’m told. But, I’m looking forward to all the sexy men in uniform.” She wags her eyebrows and we laugh.

  “Ugh! No man is going to even look at me with the two of you around,” Lily whines.

  “Lily, please. You look amazing tonight.” And I mean it. Like me, she left her long hair down with loose waves, and she found some clothes at a local shop that accentuate her great curves.

  Now Mandy, on the other hand, is dressed to attract the whole bar. She has on sheer stockings, a tight red leather skirt, and a black top. Her hair is up, and her makeup is on the heavy side, but it looks great on her.

  “Well, whatever. I’m starving, so at least there’s that.”

  ***

  We finally arrive at Francesca’s and the place is packed. The music is thumping loudly, and it’s dark inside with only a few strings of colored lights. People are either dancing or drinking. Some at the same time.

  “Girls, I see me some hotties,” Mandy squeals. “I’m going to mingle since you two are party poopers. If you are real lucky, though, I’ll bring back a man for you both.” She winks and heads off to who knows where.

  “You want to eat first? I know I could use a drink,” I say.

  “Not used to the party scene?” Lily asks.

  I laugh. “When would I have ever had time to party? I’ve been working nonstop since I turned sixteen.”

  Not to mention Kevin would never allow it. But, I don’t want to think of him right now. It’ll ruin my night of fun.

  “Wow, you mean someone has less of a social life than me?” she teases.

  “Yep. Guilty as charged.” I raise my hands in mock surrender.

  “Well, I guess we can dip our toes just a little tonight. This week has been exhausting—fulfilling, but exhausting.”

  “Amen.”

  We both order beers and sit at the bar. I watch the crowd. Everyone is having fun and enjoying themselves.

  I’d love to let go just once in my life, and not be perfect little Jane—the one who’s always in control and put together—I want to be more like Mandy. That girl knows what she wants and goes for it. Ugh, to be that comfortable in my skin. Nothing beer can’t fix.

  ***

  Phillip

  I don’t remember why I agreed to this. The place is overcrowded, and I’m almost positive I’m going to leave with a worse headache than I already have. If someone says one wrong thing to me . . .

  “Dude, you in there?” Ryan’s question slithers through my mind, bringing me back to the now.

  “Sorry, what?”

  He sends Dylan a look and turns back to me. “Dude, you need to get laid.” He stretches the last word out as we turn to go to the bar.

  It looks like everyone is here. All except for Leonard. H
is ‘job’ requires a 24/7 work day.

  It has been a shitty week for everyone. Me included. Ryan doesn’t know this, but I haven’t been with a woman since—

  “Hey. Quick. Let’s get our seats,” Ryan says as he leads the way to our usual table in the back corner away from the pulsing rhythm. I take my seat, lean back, and try to relax my aching muscles.

  “Dylan, the usual for you, hun?” The overly flirtatious waitress asks.

  “Si, Hermosa. And keep ’em coming.” He winks and she shoots him a flirty grin.

  “Are you okay, Amigo?” Dylan asks me.

  “Yeah, you look like shit. No offense, though,” Ryan cuts in.

  “Always a pleasure to be in your company, boys,” I say and I take a swig of my beer—Bud Light. I hate the stuff. But, I have to drink it. “Nothing. Just the same old shit. The general keeps riding my ass. Plus I was shot.”

  “That’ll do it,” Dylan remarks.

  “He still pissed about you giving Sanders leave?” Ryan asks.

  “Yeah, but he knows I’m right, which makes him more upset. Bastard hates to be wrong. Just another thing we have in common.”

  Ryan slams down his beer and gives me a stern look. “Don’t even go there, bro. You’re nothing like that SOB. And one day, you’re going to be recognized for it.”

  “Yeah,” Dylan adds almost as an afterthought. He knows me. The real me. I’d laugh right now if it didn’t look odd. He knows I have no desire to be a general in the army.

  I pick up my beer and shake my head before taking another swig. “Yeah, sure. Thanks, guys.”

  “You got it.” Ryan takes another sip and practically chokes on it. He smacks his chest a few times.

  Whatever it is, Dylan sees it, too. “Dios Mio. McClintock, at your nine,” he murmurs.

  I barely get time to turn my head before the subject of interest approaches our table scantily clad. She’s pretty, there’s no denying, but not my type at all. She’s more Ryan’s if I had to guess. Tall, blonde, country—maybe a little ditsy.

  I glare, hoping she keeps moving along, but as luck would have it, she studiously ignores me and leans over the table, displaying her small breasts.