Authors: Ashley Willis
“But he still has internal wounds?”
“Just one small tear. It should heal on its own.”
Mandy collapsed back into her chair and stared at Justin. Relief washed over her in waves. “He’s going to be okay?”
The doctor’s face softened. “I think so, but he’s going to ICU, just in case he begins bleeding out. Tomorrow, we can give you a more accurate prognosis.”
Mandy ran her hand over his forehead. For the first time since she’d rushed to his side, he looked her straight in the eye. The pain behind his gaze made her hurt down to her soul. “You’re going to be okay.”
“Don’t leave me,” he whispered.
“I won’t.”
She stroked his hair, letting her fingernails graze his scalp, until the nurse administered his pain medicine, and he blessedly fell out of consciousness.
Mandy sat next to Justin and stared at him. His eyes were shut, as they had been for the last four hours, and dark shades of purple pooled under his lashes, proof that his nose had been shattered. Below the bruises, his natural color was returning, his lips losing their bluish hue and his cheeks regaining their golden tone. She took comfort in the small signs of improvement and waited longingly for his eyes to open, to see for herself that his spirit was still strong.
He remained unmoving, though, with no signs of rousing. She sighed tiredly. Since he’d been moved to the ICU, nurses had continually buzzed in and out of his room, checking his vitals or administering more drugs but, for fifteen minutes, all had been quiet. She relished the touch of his skin without interruption, holding on to him, afraid he’d slip away.
The doctor says his prognosis is good
. She held onto those words like a toddler clung to their favorite blanket. But she knew as well as any nurse that he could take a turn for the worse. She wouldn’t breathe easy until they wheeled him out of ICU.
“What happened out there?” she whispered, impatient for answers. The only clues she had were his wounds, and they told her nothing except how desperate the situation must have been. Broken nose, broken ribs, punctured spleen, one arm torn up as if a tiger had clawed him, and his fingernails were shredded. He could have battled a shark and come out in better shape.
“Oh, Justin,” she brushed a hand through his hair. “Please be okay.”
With heavy eyelids, she rested her forehead against the bed railing. Since Justin had revealed his ability to her, she’d thought him invincible in the ocean. She’d been so wrong. He was just a man with an extraordinary gift. Even his powers didn’t render him invincible.
She sighed, wondering if this would be the first of many times by his bedside. Had he ever been hurt before? Her mind wandered over the last three years. She didn’t remember a time that he’d been in the hospital. Why now?
The door clinked, breaking her from her thoughts. She glanced up to see Ty enter, his head held high and shoulders squared. Quietly, he closed the door behind him. He didn’t look at her as he walked around the bed and sat in a recliner on the other side of Justin, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Ty had been with Justin when the accident happened, and he was the closest thing to the truth she had.
”How’s he doing?” Ty asked, his face an emotionless mask.
Mandy eyed him wearily. “Better. He may not need surgery.”
Ty nodded, though he didn’t show relief at the prognosis, or even the slightest indication that he cared. The man lying beside her would have given a kidney to save his friend’s life a year ago, but none of that mattered to Ty because he was selfish. As much as she wanted to give him a tongue-lashing, he would only turn into a useless clam, and she needed answers.
“How did he get hurt?” Her voice came out as thin as a thread of silk.
Ty leaned forward, resting his elbows on his meaty thighs, his brow drawing heavy over his steel-gray eyes. “He got cocky.”
The coldness in his tone made her shiver, and she dropped her gaze to Justin’s gaunt face. While she caressed his hand, she tried to recall a time when Justin had been careless. She couldn’t. “That’s not like him.”
“He was too close to the ship when he loaded the last rescue. He should have swum out a few yards.”
“You control the bucket, Ty. Why didn’t you set it down away from the ship?”
“Because I do what Justin tells me to do, and that’s where he wanted it.”
“You’re responsible for his safety.” Her voice rose as anger and confusion and fear swam through her, making her heart pound. Swallowing hard, she fought back a sob. She refused to let her emotions weaken her in front of Ty. “It’s your job to recognize a dangerous situation, and it’s your job to get Justin out of the water alive.”
“You think this is my fault?” Ty snorted, his cheeks flaming red. “He’s reckless, Mandy. He does whatever he goddamn pleases, and he puts everyone else’s life above his own. What are you going to do when you’ve got three kids, and he doesn’t come home? You gonna raise them all by yourself? Tell them their dad died a hero and move on to the next guy? Or maybe you’ll grieve for the rest of your life—alone.”
She glared at him through eyes hazy with unshed tears. “Did you come to pay your respects to your co-worker, a man who used to be your best friend, or did you come to give me hell?”
“I came to enlighten you.” His mouth twisted into a sick smile. “Open your eyes, Mandy. He’s not as perfect as you think.”
He relished Justin’s failure—pure and simple. His hatred wrung Mandy’s gut until she could barely speak. Her voice so low it was practically a growl, she said, “I don’t have the energy to deal with you right now.”
Ty stood slowly, his hands fisted to his sides, his jaw set hard, and strode around the bed toward her. The closer he came, the more her stomach clenched. When he reached her side, he bent down until his mouth was inches from her ear. “You’re going to have to deal with me eventually.”
The warning behind his words made the hair at the nape of her neck bristle, and she jerked back. He brushed a finger against her cheek, his touch cold and unforgiving. She closed her eyes, waiting for him to leave. The lump in her throat threatened to choke her.
When the door clinked open, she collapsed against the seat, her body crumpling, her thoughts spinning. She’d never been physically scared of Ty before, but she thought a restraining order might be a good idea—not that those things ever worked.
Mandy heard someone clear their throat, and she stiffened, opening her eyes. Ty held the door open for Lieutenant Dale, and they nodded at each other as the lieutenant walked into Justin’s room. Dale had been in and out of the hospital all evening, but she’d never had a quiet moment to speak with him.
“You okay?” he asked, worry pinching his expression. He peered back at the hallway, probably watching Ty ‘s retreating figure.
“Fine,” she said, well aware her voice sounded haggard, like she’d spent the last ten years chain-smoking. “Why?”
“Ty looked ready to hammer a nail into a shark. I know he’s not too happy about…” He tilted his head toward her and then Justin. “I just want to make sure he’s not giving you a hard time.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.” Though she was starting to wonder if she could. Her gaze flitted from Dale to Justin. “Can you tell me how this happened?” She said a silent prayer that Dale’s scenario differed from Ty’s because, after having cancer, Mandy understood just how precious life was. She’d done everything to increase her odds of survival, including cut off her breast when a biopsy might have sufficed. Thinking of Justin being careless with his own life made her ache from the inside out.
Dark bags hanging under his eyes, Dale rubbed a hand over his balding head and stepped closer. “His sleeve got caught on a shorn metal tong after he’d loaded his last rescue. He tried to ride the bucket to the chopper, but he fell from about fifteen feet and hit a commercial fishing vessel.”
Mandy’s sharp breath barreled into her lungs as if she’d been starved for air. Justin was hurt because of a broken basket? “I thought the Coast Guard kept their equipment meticulous?”
“It was our fourth distress call in seven hours. There was no time for repairs.” He rubbed his temple, his stare locked on Justin. “I’ve ordered a full investigation.”
“Of the worn equipment or of the whole operation?”
“The whole operation.”
“You think Justin made a mistake?”
Dale cleared his throat, and his gaze dropped to the floor. “I don’t know, but I can’t let this happen again.”
Her mind churned as she worked out the scenario. Justin couldn’t be at fault. He would never be that careless. There had to be another reason. “Is it protocol to lift so close to a vessel?”
“Not normally, but in bad situations, we’ll lift from a boat deck. It might not be ideal, but it happens.”
She nodded and bit her lower lip. Of all the people who worked with Justin, she trusted Lieutenant Dale the most. Knowing he’d tell her the truth, she sucked in a deep breath before asking the next question. “Do you think Justin’s reckless?” She peered up at Dale, praying he’d say no, but his tight expression told her she wasn’t going to get what she wanted.
“I think he takes risks not many swimmers would. That’s why his save number is so high.”
Mandy swallowed hard. She knew that he probably took risks because his abilities made him fearless in the water. “If they find him at fault, will they ground him?” Part of her wanted Dale to say yes, because at least Justin would be safe from himself. The other part knew it would kill him if they did.
“I doubt it. It’s an intense situation in the field. He’s not the first one to get hurt on the job.”
“Good.” And she meant it, though she knew she’d worry herself sick every time he geared up for a search and rescue.
“Does his family know?” Dale asked.
“I called a few hours ago. His aunt’s heading this way.”
Dale eyed Mandy with concern, his taut forehead reminding of her of her father’s expression when he was anxious. “I’ll let you get some rest. Call me if you need anything.”
She nodded and watched Lieutenant Dale open the door. Before he left, he turned to her, his eyes brighter than before. “Mandy, he saved that boy, the one he was rescuing when the accident happened. The kid was barely eighteen, and he was scared shitless. No one else could have done what Justin did. They don’t have the strength or the drive.” His gaze seemed to search deep into her soul, asking her to understand. “He’s one in a million, and I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make sure he comes home to you every night.”
With moist eyes, Mandy stood, unsure of herself, but needing Dale to understand how much his promise meant to her. She hurried toward him and wrapped him in a hug, tears streaming down her face. “Thank you,” were the only words she could force out between ragged breaths. Since Justin was out there with Ty for a partner, she felt as though no one was watching out for him, but now she knew she was wrong, and the burden weighing her down lifted.
Dale held her, letting her cry into his chest. His flight suit, smelling of grease and ocean, was scratchy against her cheek, and the texture and scent reminded her of hugging Justin after he’d finished a shift. A long moment passed before Dale finally pulled away and cupped her face in his hands. She could see his embarrassment at her show of emotion in his flushed cheeks, and she stepped back, letting Dale’s hands drop to his sides.
“Take good care of him,” Dale said.
Mandy swiped a tissue from the counter next to her and dabbed at her tears. “I will.” She watched him leave, his shoulders sagging, his head hung low. When he turned the corner, she closed the door and sat back down beside Justin’s bed.
She brushed her hand across his face, gently so as not to wake him. “What am I going to do with you?” Weary, she laid her head on the bed railing and closed her eyes.
The door clicked again, and the room filled with a presence that felt oddly familiar. For a second, she thought Justin was awake. She opened her eyes to check on him and, in her peripheral vision, saw a tall man. She gasped. “Mr. Seward?”
Justin’s dad tipped his baseball cap. “Call me Mitch.”
He strode over to the bed with the same gait as his son and studied Justin, as if memorizing his every feature. Sorrow filled his eyes, bleeding into the creases of his temple and the lines framing his mouth. “How’s he doin’?”
She pushed down her shock to answer. “His vitals are good.”
“You mind if I stay a bit?”
“Of course not.”
Taking off his hat, Mitch settled into the chair Ty had vacated ten minutes earlier. Though he had to be in his late fifties, his hair was still thick and dark with only a few grays salting his crown, and he was every bit as fit as his son, with broad shoulders, a trim waist, and corded muscles throughout his forearms.
She marveled at how much alike he and Justin were, with the same angular set to their jaws and the same golden skin color. But the one thing that made them look most alike was the haunted glow behind their eyes, as if the sorrow they’d experienced marked them clear down to their souls. If they looked so much alike, and their presence felt the same, and their eyes radiated the same troubled glow, could their hearts be identical, too?