Chapter Ten

He’s going to wake up once they lower the dosage. He’s going to be fine.

Taya kept repeating the words over and over as she sat by Nathan’s intensive care unit bedside, holding his hand. After an agonizing six-hour wait, they’d finally let her come see him once he was out of recovery. The number of monitors and machines he was hooked up to frightened her, as did the sluggish beep of the heart monitor. His heart beat seemed way too slow to her.

One surgeon had told her it was a miracle Nathan survived the operation at all. They’d transfused him twice due to blood loss. The damage to his spleen had been so catastrophic they’d elected to remove it entirely, along with one-fifth of his liver. As it was, they were keeping him in a medically induced coma to allow his body to begin healing.

Even if the liver was capable of regenerating, it didn’t make Taya feel better about Nathan’s chances. Because the head injury was the wild card in this scenario.

He hadn’t been wearing a helmet at the time of the explosion. The ECGs and CT scans had shown both significant coup and countercoup lesions in both his frontal and occipital lobes, due to the force of the explosion and his impact with the ground. A neurologist was reviewing the data now and would come talk to her when he had more information.

So yet again, she was playing the waiting game.

Her heart broke a little more as she brushed a damp lock of hair away from his forehead. His face was bruised, his eyes slightly swollen but other than that he looked so peaceful, like he was only resting. She kept waiting for him to open his eyes and look at her. If he could just do that, she’d breathe easier. Why had he gone back to get those wounded men? If he hadn’t, he might be okay right now. And both airman had died of their injuries anyway, so it was all for nothing.

As soon as she thought it she reprimanded herself. Nathan was a former PJ. Running into danger to help someone else was hardwired into him. That bravery, that selflessness that had put him in this situation were also two of the qualities she loved and admired most about him. Even if he’d known what would happen, he still would have tried to save those crewmen.

A soft knock came at the door. Taya half-turned toward it. “Come in.”

It cracked open, revealing both Tuck and Matt. “We just wanted to check on you guys,” Matt said softly. He was dressed for meetings, wearing a suit instead of his tactical uniform and Chargers cap. His pale blue dress shirt was wrinkled and rumpled, completely unlike him.

“Please, come in.” She straightened, gave them a tired smile as they approached to stare down at Nathan.

“Has his status changed at all?” Tuck asked.

“No. They’re going to keep him in the coma for at least the next few days to let him rest and heal. Then they’ll do more tests and go from there.”

But the odds weren’t good. 60/40 he wouldn’t survive the next forty-eight hours, and 70/30 he’d have some degree of permanent disability if he did. She tried not to think of the numbers. The doctors didn’t know how strong her husband was. She did.

Nathan could beat those odds. She was going to make sure he did.

“Well he’s been through a lot. Give him a little time to get on the mend, and he’ll come around,” Matt said, then crossed to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “So. How are you holding up?”

Taya chewed on the inside of her cheek, appreciating that he cared. She’d been wrestling with herself for hours, trying to think of all the possible outcomes she might face in an effort to prepare herself. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure which scares me the most—him not waking up at all, or the possibility of him waking up with permanent brain damage.”

Neither man said anything in response, but Matt squeezed her shoulder. “It’s never a bad thing to be prepared, just in case, but we all have to stay positive. And Tuck told me the news earlier. About the baby. Congratulations.”

She peered up at his handsome face, met his bright green eyes. They held kindness and concern. “Thank you. I’m trying not to worry too much, for the baby’s sake. But it’s hard.” Impossible, more like.

“Yeah. But try and remember how much he’s got to live for. He’ll fight for you and the baby with everything he’s got.”

“I know.” He wouldn’t leave them willingly.

Removing his hand from her shoulder, he set both on his hips and studied Nathan, his demeanor calm, comforting. “He looks a lot better than I expected him to, all things considered.”

“Still my hottie,” Taya murmured with a half-smile that made Matt grin.

“Have you talked to your dad?”

“Yes. He and my brother are both flying up to stay with me for a while.”

“That’s good.”

“Yes.” She couldn’t wait for them to get here. “Do you know yet what caused the crash?”

“Airport radar confirmed something hit the right inner prop just after takeoff. We think it was a large remote-control drone. It damaged the prop, but the lithium battery probably exploded on impact. The debris damaged the second prop and the wing, maybe severed the fuel line, and that could have caused an explosion.”

“A drone,” she repeated. “You mean like, someone’s toy? Or a weapon someone was trying to sabotage their flight with?”

“As of right now there’s nothing to indicate it was anything but a tragic accident with a civilian drone. The flight was arranged last minute. Anyone looking to target us wouldn’t have had time to plan anything. It was just a freak accident. And whoever was operating the drone shouldn’t have been flying it anywhere near the base. It’s restricted airspace. Investigators are looking for leads. When they find the person, charges will be laid.”

Charges weren’t going to bring her husband back.

Taya shook her head. Unbelievable. Someone flying his toy drone before the crack of fucking dawn near a runway had caused all of this. And if Nathan’s plane had taken off either a few seconds earlier or later, none of this would have happened. How sadly ironic that after all he’d done and all the harrowing missions he’d undertaken, a civilian drone had done this to him.

“What about the mission they were supposed to do?” When Nathan woke up, he would want to know.

“Gold Team is handling it,” Matt said. “I’ll be heading to Atlanta in the morning, but you can reach me anytime on my cell.”

For some reason, the thought of him leaving made her feel even more alone. Maybe because Nathan worshipped and looked up to him so much. Almost like a father figure. “Thank you.”

“Taya, you need anything?” Tuck asked from the foot of the bed.

She tried to remember the last thing she’d eaten. Some crackers, fruit and a little bit of tea. No wonder her stomach was growling so bad. “I am kinda hungry.”

“I’ll get you something. What do you feel like?”

“Some soup maybe? And crackers?” She sighed. “I’d love a decaf or herbal tea, too, if they have any.” Something hot, to warm her from the inside out, melt the icy fear that had formed in the pit of her belly.

“I’ll find some. Maybe I’ll get a double portion, and some snacks to keep you going, since you’re eating for two now.”

She forced a little smile. “Yes.”

Tuck’s gaze cut to Nathan, then back to her. He gestured toward the bed. “May I?”

“Of course.” She wanted them to acknowledge Nathan. Talk to him. Maybe he could still hear them and they just didn’t realize it.

Tuck rounded the other side of the bed, stood looking down at Nathan for a long moment, then took Nathan’s right hand and spoke in a low, clear voice, his southern drawl soothing her as much as his words did. “Doc, it’s Tuck. Just wanted to say the boys and I are all thinking about you. We need you, brother. So you go on and take all the time you need to heal up, but you gotta get better. And we’ll look after your lady until you can do it yourself.”

Taya’s eyes burned with an unexpected rush of tears. “I appreciate that, thank you.”

Both Tuck’s and Matt’s gazes snapped to her. “You’re both family to us all,” Matt said. “And we take care of our family.”

She broke eye contact because it was simply too overwhelming to hold it, and because her throat was now clogged. “Thanks.” It was barely a whisper, but it was important to her that they know how much she appreciated their support and kindness. Everyone had been so wonderful to her since she’d gotten together with Nathan, from the guys, to Matt and Briar, and all the female significant others.

“How are the others?” she asked Matt.

“Vance is all settled in his room two floors down. They’re keeping him in for at least another few days, for observation. Carm and her mom are with him. The others just left a little while ago. They were all hanging around downstairs waiting for word on Doc. They wanted to see him, but Tuck and I had a hard enough time getting permission to come in here, so I told everyone to go home and said I’d update them if anything changed. I didn’t want them all coming up here at once, but the boys will be stopping in to visit Nate on a rotating basis.” He paused, studying her. “If that’s all right with you.”

She appreciated him checking. “Yes, absolutely. And it would mean a lot to Nathan.”

“Well, he means a lot to all of us.” Again those clear green eyes met hers. “And so do you, Taya. We’re here for you too, no matter what.”

She bit her lip and nodded, swallowing the tears.

“I’m gonna go grab you some food,” Tuck said, backing toward the door. “Back in a bit.”

As soon as the door swung shut behind him, Matt took Tuck’s place to stand on the other side of Nathan’s bed. “You keep fighting, Doc,” he told Nathan, gripping her husband’s limp hand in his. “Just keep fighting.” He straightened and shifted his gaze to her, still holding Nathan’s hand. “You must be tired.”

She nodded. “I’m beat.” Physically, mentally, emotionally. She was drained to the point of feeling hollow inside. But she’d been too keyed up with worry to risk falling asleep. What if Nathan woke or needed her, and she missed it?

“You staying the night?” Matt asked her.

“Oh, yeah. I’m not leaving his side until he wakes up.” She wanted to crawl onto the bed with Nathan, lie close to him and put her head next to his on the pillow, but he’d just had a major life-saving operation and she was scared of bumping or jostling him in her sleep. So the dreaded pullout chair it was.

Matt nodded as though unsurprised, then glanced around the tiny room and frowned. “I’ll see if I can get a small inflatable or foam mattress in here for you. Those pullout chairs are like sleeping on a short plywood board.”

They really were. “I’d love that, thank you.”

He focused on her again. “It’s nothing. Whatever you need, we’ll get it for you. And you don’t have to stay here all the time. If you decide you need a break, take it. One of us will always be here to sit with him, and that’s a promise.”

She moaned and covered her eyes with one hand. “I’ve been doing such a good job of holding it together, but you’re gonna make me cry.”

His low chuckle floated through the air, warm as a hug. “No shame if you do. I won’t tell anyone.”

She loved him dearly. All of them. And to help him pull through and beat the odds, Nathan needed all the support and encouragement he could get.

Matt was as good as his word. After Tuck brought her a tray of food, both men left and reappeared under an hour later with an inflatable mattress, complete with bedding. They not only set it up for her, but Matt literally tucked her in, too, arranging the blankets around her.

Then he crouched down next to her and smoothed a hand over her hair. “You’ve got my number?”

“Yes.”

He nodded once. “If you need anything, or if there’s a change in his status, call.”

“I will.”

“I’ll come by in the morning. Try to get some sleep.” He laid a hand on the top of her head, his expression full of admiration and tenderness. “No wonder he calls you Little Warrior.” Squeezing her shoulder gently, he rose to his feet and switched off the light on his way out of the room.

She spent a fitful night on the floor next to her husband, reaching up for his still hand in the darkness, letting the beep of the heart monitor reassure her that he was still with her. Time dragged, the hours blurring, but he survived the first forty-eight hours. Then seventy-two. And ninety-six. And still the doctors kept him in the coma.

Over the next nine days she became intimately familiar with the hospital routine. Nurses came and went at all hours to check Nathan’s vitals, check his catheter, adjust his medication levels or draw blood. Within a few days she knew pretty much every nurse working in the ICU, and greeted them by name whenever they came to tend to Nathan.

A doctor stopped by once in the morning just after breakfast, and again before dinner. Sometimes it was one of the surgeons who had operated on Nathan. Sometimes it was a thoracic specialist or a neurologist. None of them had anything useful or hopeful to offer. Every day, the same verdict.

Nathan was surviving, but he wasn’t improving.

Her dad and brother were godsends, keeping her fed, letting her nap while they kept watch over Nathan. She refused to leave the hospital, using earplugs when she absolutely needed sleep. Nathan’s teammates came in every day, three of them arriving for a fifteen-minute shift at regularly spaced intervals that didn’t interfere with the nurses or Taya’s sleep schedule.

The women came too, checking on her and bringing her little treats or things to make her stay more comfortable. A pair of fluffy slippers and a memory foam pillow. Pink flannel jammies with little black skulls on them from Zoe. Flowers and chocolates, an electric kettle, mug and collection of herbal teas. Books and magazines. It was all so thoughtful and overwhelming, to be looked after like that.

And yet…

Even with such a solid support system behind her and around her, after the first ten days came and went without any change, she began to lose hope. She didn’t dare tell anyone or let it show, but the guilt was terrible.

Then, on day eleven, the doctors decided it was time to wean Nathan off his meds. They’d removed the staples from his chest and abdomen. His skin had healed. Now it was time to see if his brain had as well.

Taya remained perched at his side over the next three days, waiting and praying for an uptick in brain activity. For him to wake up, open his eyes. Anything.

But nothing happened.

On night fifteen, dispirited and crushed, she changed into her pink and black bat-print pajamas and crawled into her makeshift bed on the floor beside Nathan’s bed while her father hovered over her, his face lined with concern.

“Sweetie, you sure you don’t want to go home for a while tonight? You’re done in, you should see the circles under your eyes. I’ll stay with Nathan. If anything changes I’ll call you right away.”

“No, but thanks. I promised him I wouldn’t leave him.”

Her dad sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “You sure?”

“Yes.” There was no conviction or heat behind the word. She was too damn exhausted to argue, too numb to expend another ounce of energy.

When the beeping started to quicken, she assumed she was dreaming. Then her eyes popped open, and every muscle seized as Nathan’s heart rate began to pick up. Taya shoved into a sitting position and stared at his profile in the dimness. “Nathan?”

The beeping stayed steady. Taya rose and took his hand, leaned over him to peer into his face. “Nathan, can you hear me?” He didn’t react. The increase in heart rate had to be a positive sign, right?

What if it means the opposite?

She hurried around the other side of the bed, flipped on the bedside light and grabbed for the call button, her hands unsteady. Shit, was he going into cardiac arrest or something?

The plastic device was cold in her hand as she slid her thumb over top of the button.

The sheets rustled.

Taya smothered a gasp and jerked her gaze to her husband. “Nathan?” She leaned over him, grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Nathan.”

His eyelids flickered. They flickered.

She held her breath, waiting. Praying.

Please, baby. Please wake up and look at me.

A slight frown twitched across his forehead. And then those beautiful, familiar hazel eyes flipped open and peered up at her.