Reckless Endangerment (18 page)

“She told me not tell you.  Actually, she threatened to pull my hair out by the roots until I was bald if I told you.  By the way, what do you mean she sneaked in here?  That’s completely against protocol.”  She chewed her lip as she studied him as if trying to see inside his soul.

“Sir, she asked me not to tell you what’s going on. Made me promise.”  McGee shrugged, his expression softening. “I owe her after Frankfurt.”

He hated being stuck in this place.  He wanted out. O.U.T.

“If one of you doesn’t tell me exactly what’s going on, I’m going out the front door, hailing a taxi and going to the television station.  I guarantee you someone there knows where she is.”  He folded his arms across his chest and stared them down.  “Dare me.  I’ll do it.”

He had no idea how he would do it, but it felt damn good to imagine.

“Two men attacked her and Devon Tuesday night in City Park.  They beat her up pretty badly.  Bad enough where she called me from the hospital.  She gave me her key, told me to pick up Dude for a few days, now I can’t find her.  She left the hospital and vanished.  Devon is missing, too, from what I understand, but no one at the station is giving me any answers.”  Becky looked again at the picture.  “I can’t believe you’re married.  You’re my brother-in-law? Oh my God.”

He remembered her in the baggy scrubs, handing him a gun, asking if he loved her, questioning his reflexes.  She was in more danger than he’d assumed.  He should have pressed for details when he’d had the chance.  Now she was missing.  God only knew what kind of mess she was in and here he was...surrounded by yellow walls and fools.   

“She told me off Tuesday in the parking lot, told me that you are the only one who understands her. I thought she was going to punch me by the way she went off about your heroics and being the only one in her life.  But I never once thought you were her husband.  My God.  How do you keep this kind of thing a secret?”  Becky walked toward him and dropped the picture in his lap.  “Why would you?  She’d go to the mat for you.”

Ignoring her, he focused on McGee.  It made sense now.  She’d asked McGee to camp out here to protect him.  Maybe she hadn’t had the faith in him he’d thought.  He gritted his teeth and stared at his friend. 

“It’s not what you think,” McGee said as if reading his mind.  “She doesn’t think you’re helpless. She doesn’t trust the security here and wanted me to just hang out until she gets back.”

“Back from where?” he and Becky asked in unison before glaring at each other.

“I am not at liberty to say, sir.”

“Cut the sir crap, McGee, we’re both civilians now whether we like it or not.  Call me Michael or Mike or…” He shoved his hands through his hair.  “Fine.  I get it.  You made a promise and you’re keeping it.  How long are you planning on hanging out here?”

“Until she calls me, sir.”  McGee stood and stretched his arms over his head.  “Right now I think you two need some privacy so I’m going for a walk.  Be back in a fifteen minutes.”

“Gee, I hope I can handle myself until then,” he said before moving to the refrigerator to look for a distraction.  Apples.  Who had bought him apples?  He wanted a beer, maybe some cheese, anything but an apple.

“Want to tell me about the marriage?”

“Nope.” He bit into the apple and noticed the business card Hope had left the other day.  He needed to call her.  He would go to her.  Hell, he could do it.  He looked at the chair…the business card…the window that framed the skyline.  He could do it.

He could convince McGee to drive him.  That’s what he would do.  McGee would do anything for him, he knew that.  They would go. 

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but the answer is no.” Becky moved to block his view.  “I know that look because my sister gets it almost every time I see her.  She had that look Tuesday in the parking lot when I saw her with Devon.  She had that look at the hospital despite the black eye and stitches.  The woman could barely hold a pen when she wrote down the instructions for Dude, but she had that look on her face.”

“How badly was she injured?” The thought of some random men putting their hands on her took his breath away.

“Tell me about being married to my sister.”  For the second time since knowing her, she lost her professional veneer, leaned over him and stared into his face.  “When did this happen?  Why is it a secret?  Why am I the last to know?  Answer my questions before I say one more word to you.”

He took another bite of the apple, his plan with McGee taking shape in his mind even as he made eye contact with Becky.  “Eleven months and two weeks ago we eloped to Mykonos.  We kept it a secret because it was the safest decision we could make at the time.  If the insurgents had discovered that a US commander had his wife nearby, she would have been a target for kidnapping or murder.”

“That explains Afghanistan, but what about now?” Becky stared at him as if trying to see into his soul.

“My fault.  I wanted to give her an out.  I…behaved badly.”

“You?  Behaved badly?  Hard to imagine.” Sarcasm twisted her lips.  Sparks flew from her eyes.  He definitely saw the resemblance between the Shane women.  “And you hurt her?”

He took his time chewing before swallowing.  With a sigh, he nodded.  “Yes, I hurt her.  Not physically…never that…but in other ways.”

“You don’t deserve her, war hero or not, you don’t deserve my sister.”

He looked away.  He hated the insecurity that still whispered through his brain when it came to Hope Shane.  “Can we stop this now?  I need to know what you know about her injuries.  She hides so much, you know.  Likes people to think she’s invincible, but she’s not.  She went through a lot over there…and back here.  She’s fragile.”

Becky narrowed her eyes at him before standing, hands on hips.  “Fragile?  I don’t think so.  She is a warrior.  No one messes with my sister,” her voice hitched on the last word. Tears shimmered over the sparks. 

“So she looked bad then, is that it?  Really bad?”  He nodded when she said nothing.  “What story is she working on?”

“Neither she or Devon would say.  The FBI was there, though, which I thought was odd.”  She sank onto a kitchen chair and chewed her knuckle.  “It’s not odd, is it?  I mean, this is the kind of thing she does, isn’t it?  This is the stuff that wins her an Emmy and gets her on national news, right?  She’s dangerous.”

Hope had told him how she felt misunderstood by her family.  The black sheep, she had said, always judged and criticized regardless of her accomplishments.  He frowned.  He had witnessed Hope’s courage every day.  More than that, he had witnessed her generosity, her spirit, her charm and her humor.  He doubted Becky knew anything about her. 

“So am I,” he whispered, leaning forward in his chair until Becky looked at him.  “I killed men…even women.  I have seen things that you couldn’t imagine in your worst nightmares. I could snap your neck in minutes if I wanted.  I am dangerous, but that is not all that I am.  And it doesn’t make me a bad man…or evil.  Nothing Hope does is because she wants glory or is because she is bad in any way.  You said it yourself...she’s a warrior.”

“She’s reckless.”

“She called you from the hospital so you would take care of her dog.  She called McGee to look out for me.  That isn’t reckless. She’s fearless.”  He grinned when Becky brushed away a tear.  “She kept her big mouth shut about being my wife because she respected my wishes, even though she was going through hell and needed her husband.”

Becky pulled at her spiky hair and looked toward the ceiling.  “I can’t believe I’m related to you.”

“Likewise.  Holidays should be a ton of fun.”  He took another bite of the apple. 

“Well, they definitely won’t be dull.”  A hint of a smile stirred at the corners of her mouth.  “I can’t wait for that pale faced Callie to meet her.  Hope will rein down all kinds of hell on that bitch.”

He laughed. Yes, it was true.  Hope versus Callie would be no contest.  Becky laughed with him, her eyes softening.  

“You need to work harder to get home to her.  She has a huge loft, even bought the one next to hers with plans of knocking down a wall.  I didn’t understand why until now.  She’s been making plans for you and Dalton.” She leaned back in her chair and sighed without looking away from his face.  “I may not be close with her like I would like to be, but I’m a great physical therapist.  I need to do the best job I have ever done and push you until you can go home to her.  Are you hearing me? You need to give a damn.  She thinks you’re all she has.”

Sober, he looked at her. Really looked. Given how screwed up he felt, he didn’t consider himself much of an asset. 

“I have a long way to go.” Against his will, he glanced at his legs. 

“You’re dangerous, remember?”  When she smiled, she looked more like Hope than he had originally noticed.  The spikes tended to detract from the resemblance.  “Maybe you need to channel some of that killer instinct to learning how to handle your new challenges and get out of here.”

“New challenges.”  He rubbed his palm on his right thigh.  “You and I both know my left leg is useless.  I can’t feel a thing.  I can try to stand but I will never be that guy you see in that picture.”

“Really?” She arched an eyebrow.  “What about your right leg?  You and I both know you feel pain in your right leg.  You and I both know you can stand, have the potential of limited mobility. I’ve seen worse cases and so have you.”

When McGee walked back in looking sheepish, he had an idea that he had heard from Hope.  Tossing the apple core aside, he glanced at his friend who hovered near the door. 

“You should probably go, Becky,” he said, “I’m sure you have other victims to torment today.”

She looked between the two men.  “Is everything good here then?  You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?”

“Like what?  Play another video game with my best friend McGee?”

“Like doing something to set yourself back a few months.  You haven’t even been here for a solid week yet you’re already on probation.”

“Look at me.  What could I possibly do to get myself into trouble?”

“Sounds like something my sister would say,” she muttered before leaving the two alone.

Chapter Eleven

“Shane’s gonna kill me for this,” McGee whispered under his breath.  “She doesn’t seem like a woman who likes surprises.”

“She’ll get over it.”  He grinned against the breeze from the open window of McGee’s van.  Not only had he never envisioned either of them in the front seat of a mini-van, he had also never dreamed he would be stalking his own wife. 

He looked up at the five story brick building on the outskirts of downtown Denver.  Rush hour traffic jammed past their parked van on the street.  The curve of the white roller coaster from the downtown amusement park could be seen a few blocks away.  Joggers moved from the street to the park behind the building that followed the river. 

Home.  He chewed his lip. He could barely contain the emotion surging inside him.  Somewhere in that building was a home he hadn’t been aware of having. 

“Becky’s not going to be happy about us sneaking out of there,” McGee said, his face easing into a smile.  “Maybe we should just grab a beer while we wait for Shane to come home.  Are you up for that?”

He smiled at his old friend.  They had seen battles together and lost mutual friends.  “I don’t know.  We haven’t conquered Eating Out 101 at the Institute yet.”

“How hard can it be?  Come on, Colonel.  We’ve made it this far, in a mini-van no less, why not brave the bar scene?” McGee rolled up the windows before looking at him expectantly.  “How long has it been since you’ve had a beer in a bar in the good ol’ US of A?”

His smile faded. He looked down at his legs, familiar doubt whispering through his brain.  What he said to Becky?  That he was dangerous? Well, he
had
made it this far in a mini-van. 

“It’s been too long,” he admitted before looking at the sidewalk.  His heart drummed in his ears.  Looking at the people walking by on their way home or running errands, he felt suddenly like a fish out of water.  Now he understood the need for the transitional facility...he’d gone from a war zone to a hospital to...reality. 

McGee was out and around the van before he could change his mind.  Before he knew it, he was sliding into his chair and moving along side his friend.  Strangers moved past him without looking at him.  The evening air chilled against his skin.  The breeze blew hair into his eyes.  When they entered a crowded bar, he felt energized by the scene of people laughing and televisions competing with music. 

Once positioned at a side table near the window, he released the breath he hadn’t been aware of holding.  He had finally come home.

“Nice, isn’t it?” McGee said with the knowledge of a fellow soldier. 

“Heaven.”  He nodded with a grin.  “You’re buying.  I left my wallet at the institute.”

“Convenient.”

“I’m sure you owe me.”  He rubbed his hands over the arms of the chair and looked around the bar.  Happy hour.  How long had it been since he had enjoyed a happy hour?  He remembered Hope’s words as she had hid in the overturned jeep: happy hour in Denver.  His smile slipped with the memory.