Speed King (Men of Action 1)

When she pulls the blankets down and lifts my hospital gown, I instinctively cover my cock and block her hand.

She doesn’t raise her face to mine, but her amused grin is visible. “Three sons, macho husband, and a nurse,” she reminds me with humor in her tone.

“You’re a little close for me to feel comfortable.”

“You were shot near the groin, Mr. Kingston. Not much I can do about it.”

I know what Talon meant now about seeing my junk. Then I think about how many people have seen my naked ass in the last thirty-two hours.

My fingers skim the piercing and hit a tube at the tip of my dick. “I want this out.”

“The doctor has to make that call. You haven’t exactly been alert and functioning.”

“I am now. A catheter isn’t necessary.”

“Regardless of your thoughts on who has the authority here, the doctor will decide.”

I glare at her, flinching when she pokes at the row of sutures on my thigh. The skin is shaved, red, and angry. Even I can see the swelling around the wound needs attention.

She cleans it, chatting away about nothing in particular. Finally, she redresses the wound.

“I’ll allow your friends to come in. Hopefully, talking to Harley will make you amenable to our healthcare protocols,” she chirps, enjoying my discomfort entirely too much.

As if on cue, the door creaks, and Talon waltzes around the partition, Ford pushing Major in a wheelchair. It’s hard to miss the exhaustion on his pale features.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“You look like shit, too.” He reads through my statement.

My lips twitch and I shake my head. “You good, brother?”

“Yeah, you?”

I dip my chin as an answer. “Be better when I can talk to Harley and get this catheter out.”

“We need to talk before you talk to Harley.” Ford’s serious reply has me sitting up straighter.

“What’s the deal?”

A quiet settles over the room, and the nurse catches the hint, slipping out.

They each take turns telling me parts about the success of our mission. Apparently, the last thing Bayer did after we killed his captors was get a secure message to the Commander on the ship. The cartel liaison was apprehended, and the rest fell into place. The men who came at us from the hidden tunnel accesses are all dead.

Except during our surgeries, Ford and Talon have been with us since arriving at the hospital. Switching back and forth every few hours.

“Ace, we all know you’re made of steel, but that was close. You lost a lot of fucking blood. Scared the shit out of us.” Major pins me with steely eyes.

“I didn’t—”

“We know, man. The adrenaline, the chaos, the focus, we all get it. But shit, I hope we never have to go through something like that fucking ever.”

“You were shot, too.”

“And your mind was on me.”

“My mind was on the objective, and that includes you,” I correct him.

“We’ve been talking while you were taking your nap.”

“I was drugged.”

“Drugged, asleep, resting, however the hell you want to phrase it.”

“Want to get to the point?” Irritation stirs in my gut. They’re stalling.

The look they share is the giveaway. “You want out.”

“Weighing the options,” Talon says breezily.

“All of you?” The question is pointed at Major, who gives a non-committal shrug.

Something is off. An uneasy feeling curls in my chest, slowly making its way through my body until I’m practically shaking. “What the fuck is happening?”

Talon rolls back on his feet, crossing his arms. “You flat-lined. For nine seconds, I didn’t know if you would pull through. Major’s lung flooded with blood, and he couldn’t breathe. We watched helplessly, not knowing if either of you would live.”

The news blows me away, and my gut turns at the reality of the situation. We’ve all seen death. Too much death. But the fact that they witnessed us in the same position at the same time would rattle even the strongest of men.

“Can we give it up?” I’m unsure it’s possible. “Being Marines is in our blood. It’s who we are.”

“We’ll always be Marines. Shit, Ace, think about it. We’ve stood side-by-side battling the worst of the worst, including our recent annihilation of members of a Columbian drug cartel.” Talon takes a breath, visibly struggling with what comes next. “I’m proud of my service to my country. I’m proud of everything we’ve done. It will always be in my blood. Us leaving the Corps won’t change who we are, what we’ve done, or what we are to each other.”

“I don’t think of it as giving up. We moved on a year ago when we became cops. When we agreed to this special gig, we got our years of service, and things were a lot different. You’re marrying Harley. We’ve bought land to build houses. We had no idea where we’d be today,” Ford adds solemnly.

“Major? You okay with this?” Of all people, this decision has to be weighing heavily. Being in the Corps is in his blood. His dad, grandfather, uncle—all served.