There’s something to be said for the power of shock, the adrenal fuel that fires you toward your roommate when her head smashes into gravel and asphalt during a rec time basketball game.
“Vi!” I scream. My heart slams in my chest at the dark liquid pooling around her hair. Everyone else takes a step back. I’m the only one moving in the wrong direction. “She needs a doctor! She needs help!” I rip off my jacket and shove it under her head to slow the bleeding. Her body is a crumpled heap on the court, but my panic makes me little more than a hysterical cheerleader.
“Out of the way. Now,” another voice barks through the crowd. The familiar tone triggers a wave of relief as Kaleb lowers himself to her side.
“You. Did you call for the medic?” he snaps at a nearby soldier.
“Yes, sir. They’re on their way.”
“Then find Thompson and start returning the residents to their rooms. Make an announcement that this woman will be treated and we’ll send updates when we have them.
“Andie, keep pressure like you’re doing but don’t move her neck. Her name is Viktoria, right?”
I fight my reaction. “Yes. Vi.”
“Vi. Okay.”
He shrugs off his jacket and lays it over her. I fixate on confident fingers stroking her cheek. “Vi, I need you to look at me.”
He taps her face again when her eyes flutter. “Vi, you need to stay awake and talk to me. I have some questions.”
“I’m Vi,” she mumbles.
“Are you now?”
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“Then why is your blood ruining my uniform?”
She manages the slightest curl of a smile. “We were… we were winning.”
“I saw that. You’re quite the player. Did you play back home?”
She tries to nod and winces. “Yes. My whole life. Since I was seventy… Seventeen… No, seven.” Her eyes close again.
“So the Floor 2 goons had no idea what they had coming against them.” Kaleb gives her another gentle pat.
She returns to us, and this time manages a grin. “I like surprising people.”
“I believe it. I know I wouldn’t mess with you if I didn’t have to. You’re a force, that’s for sure.”
I watch his eyes float over her while he’s talking. It’s a look I know well. Like he sees a world we don’t.
“Over here!” he calls suddenly. Three medics rush toward us and drop down beside Vi.
“Blunt force trauma to the head resulting from a fall on the pavement at 1922. Posterior skull abrasion noted with moderate bleeding; a compress was applied immediately after the incident. There was no loss of consciousness but concussion is likely. Will need further testing to rule out skull fracture or intracranial bleeding,” Kaleb says, and I’m overcome by another side of him I hadn’t yet seen.
“Thanks, Lance Corporal,” a medic replies. “We’ve got it from here. Give us an hour to stabilize her before you come by to do the report.”
“I’ll stop in at 2100 unless you call me first.”
He places his hand on my shoulder and leads me behind the fieldhouse. “It’s okay, Andie. She’s in good hands. Trust me.”
I peer around the corner at my friend. They’ve already replaced my bloody jacket with gauze and a neck brace. A stretcher and other helpful-looking equipment make their case. I don’t know if I trust them, but I trust Kaleb.
“Andie, hey. She’s going to be fine,” he repeats, and my tears slip out as I fall into his arms. It’s a natural embrace, one of a thousand, instead of our first touch. His grip tightens and I bury my face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of soap and clean linens. It’s comforting, the smell, his breath on my hair, and I cling to him and the steady beat of his heart.
“I keep hearing the sound of her head hitting the ground,” I whisper.
The light stroke of his hand sends shivers through me. I meet his eyes, flooded with strength. Empathy. I remember his scars. Who held him after his screams? Soothed away his agony?
“She’s going to be all right. I’ve seen a lot of injuries, and this one isn’t as bad as it looks.”
I bite my lip, aware of every inch of him. The rhythm of his pulse increasing at nearly the same rate as mine. Our stare surges a charge we both acknowledge, and his palms tighten behind my back. Mine grasp his waist, longing to slide along the outlines I’ve only fantasized about up until now. One rebellious hand slips away to track his jaw, rough and warm. It wants the rest and spreads to his cheek. My blood sears, eyes searching his. Hot agony of need as he lowers his head. His lips are so real, so attainable, so necessary...
He curses and steps back. “Andie, no. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Kaleb. I…”
He moves farther away, pain infecting his face. “No, it’s not. I just crossed so many lines I can’t even count them. You have every right to report me. I’ll request an immediate transfer for you.”
He turns to leave, but I grab his arm, refusing to let him take the blame for something that didn’t even happen. Something I desperately wanted.
“Don’t. You were just trying to comfort me.”
“Listen—”
“You saved my friend. You were helping a grieving resident.”
He flinches, and I don’t know if I’m winning or losing.
“Don’t separate us. It won’t happen again.” Damn, I want it to happen again, need it to happen again. I’m going to make it happen again, but now is the time for lies.
He looks away, and his Flaw is my Perfection because I want nothing more than to finish what we started.
Maybe he does too.
Sergeant Dennel’s voice cuts off Kaleb’s response with a demand for a report through his radio.
“You should go back to your room,” Kaleb directs to me without emotion. “I’ll call you when we have an update.”
I swallow my reply and follow the orders of Building Supervisor Lance Corporal Novelli. My superior. The most frustratingly noble man on this planet. He’s locked in an animated conversation with his CO as I retreat and wonder how much paperwork will follow this one.
My two other roommates take the injury worse than I do. I return to our room to find them rigid on the couch, staring at the wall.
“She’s going to be okay,” I assure the anxious stares that shift to me when I enter. Ironic that I’ve assumed Kaleb’s role as authority and comforter, minutes after he had to reconstruct me from a blubbering mess.
“There was so much blood!” one cries. “I thought for sure she was dead.”
“She’s not dead.”
“But, she could—”
“She’s not dead,” I repeat.
“What was she saying to you and Lance Corporal Novelli?” the other asks.
“Kaleb was trying to keep her awake. She was talking about playing basketball as a kid.”
“I can’t believe this happened. I hope they let us see her soon.”
“I’m sure they will when they’re ready. They have to check her out and fix her up. Then there’s a bunch of paperwork Kaleb has to file.”
“Paperwork?”
I sigh. “Yes, it’s what I do every day when I go to his office. Anyway, the point is that we shouldn’t worry about Vi just because it takes some time. The process is complicated. Kaleb will let us in as soon as he can.” I don’t like the shift in their attention. “What?”
My roommates’ sudden smiles are even more disconcerting. “Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. What is it?” I repeat at the conspiratorial glance they exchange.
“It’s just the way you say Kaleb. How familiar it is to you.”
“I work with him every day. Of course I’m familiar with him.”
“Okay.” But she concedes nothing.
I yank my towel from the hook on my door. “I’m taking a shower. I have blood all over me.”
I do.