On Point (Out of Uniform 3)

“You came to say goodbye.” God, Maddox was weary, so very weary.

His mother nodded, tears filling her eyes. “Addy got our tickets.”

“But it was goodbye. Not welcome back,” Maddox clarified. “You don’t really want me back, do you?”

“Things can change.” His father put an arm around his mother. “If you’re ready to seek help—”

“Never.” Maddox closed his eyes. The mattress was unyielding behind him, but not nearly as firm as the wall between him and the family he loved so much. “You came to say goodbye, so go on now, say it.”

He was never, ever going to stop missing them, missing fishing on the Snake River, hunting with his dad and cousins, missing the big family reunion every Fourth of July. But he’d realized something in those hours in the jungle and the fitful days that followed—life was too short not to go after exactly what he wanted.

And maybe he’d never get exactly what he wanted out of life, but he was sure going to try. And maybe he’d never again have a family, a real family, but maybe none was better than this.

They didn’t really argue with him. Cold. He was freezing inside, the thin hospital blanket no match for the shivering in his heart. They left after a few tearful platitudes and a kiss from his mother that seared him to his soul as she promised to pray for him.

“Glad you pulled through,” his dad said as they left the room.

Glad I didn’t die. Was that really where they were as a family? He guessed so. God, he hadn’t really thought that the only thing worse than them not coming would be them coming, but here they were.

Hell, he missed Ben. He was the one person Maddox could talk to about family stuff. It was funny how angry Ben got on his behalf, and it reassured him that he wasn’t broken in some essential way.

It’s their loss, he could practically hear Ben’s voice. That even more than his family leaving made his eyes sting.

“And how are we doing?” The same round-faced nurse with smiling eyes who’d snuck him news about Ben being out of ICU came into the room. Today’s scrubs had little cat emoticons all over them. “Can you rate your pain for me?”

A thousand and one. Self-pity wasn’t Maddox’s usual MO but it had been a day. A week, really. However, he didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until she frowned.

“I’m going to check your pain pump, but is there anything else we could do for you? Another blanket maybe?”

“Well. There is one thing.” Maddox gave her his best smile. Not as good as one of Ben’s, but it worked on the mess hall workers, getting him second helpings of chow, and maybe it would work now, get him the one thing that might make a difference.

Chapter Ten

“Oh, foul-tempered one, I got permission to bring you this.” Camilla came into Ben’s room, striding past his father and his friend Apollo. His father’s girlfriend was a small woman, barely five feet, and her black hair was swept up into its customary updo, but she was in a T-shirt and stretchy pants, not her usual power suit. Camilla had absolutely no fear, dodging the hulking men to offer him a cup with whipped cream spilling out of the dome top.

“Is that a blended chai?” he asked hopefully. “And I’m not that bad.”

“Yes, you are,” all three of them answered.

“Worst patient ever,” Apollo confirmed. “And I should know.” Ben’s fellow SEAL who worked in SEAL training had recently had a back surgery, and from what Ben had heard, he’d hardly been a model patient. “You scared off your roommate.”

Ben made a huffing noise before taking a swig of the best thing he’d tasted in days. Wasn’t quite as good as his favorite place, but it was miles better than the stuff the hospital had been allowing him.

“That guy with the broken arm? He was getting discharged anyway.” Ben had to use his good arm to drink, which happened to be the one with the IV, but even the pinch didn’t detract from the creamy goodness. And no way was he going back to having his dad hold the cup for him.

“The nurses are drawing straws to see who has to come in here,” his father added, sitting back in the chair he’d claimed days ago. Like Camilla, his clothes were casual, a nod to them practically camping out in the hospital, despite Ben’s pleas that they go rest.

“Maybe they’ll let me go today?” If he was that much of a pain in the ass, they should be eager to discharge him, right?

“Not while you’re still dealing with vertigo. They need to see you up and around more. And you’re probably going for a stint in the rehab wing.”

Ben groaned. True, he was having dizzy bouts that had nixed his first attempts to leave this godforsaken bed. Apparently Maddox hadn’t been the only one with a concussion. But Ben could cope with a few headaches and the weakness from the infection—he was beyond ready to leave the hospital behind.