Accidental Shield

“Shit, I gotta go!” I race through the dining room, the kitchen, then down the hall to the lanai. She’s still propped up holding the lounge chair when I arrive, but clearly tipsy.

I lunge and catch her around the waist just as her legs give out.

“No falling on my watch,” I say, tightening my grip. “What’s the matter?”

“My head. Everything’s just spinning.”

“Hold on.” I hoist her up, folding her hands around my neck. “Let’s get you out of the sun.”

She slumps her head against my shoulder as I carry her inside, straight to the bedroom. I lay her down on the bed.

“Val? You with me?”

“I’m a little better now,” she says, trying to sit up.

Sitting next to her, I apply a gentle pressure to her shoulder, to keep her lying down.

“Just hold still.” I pull the phone out of my pocket and hit the icon by Cash’s name. “I’m calling the doctor.”

“Cash? No, I don’t need a doctor. I need—”

“You need to get your ass over here, now!” I bark through the speaker. “She fainted.”

“She what?” Cash sputters on the other end.

“I didn’t faint,” Val says, tugging at my arm. “I don’t need a doctor, Flint. I’m not sick.”

“What happened?” Cash asks again in my other ear.

“She stood up. Looked like she was going down fast when I caught her.”

“Um, yeah. Because I was dizzy from thinking so hard,” she says, giving this little pout of her lip.

“Check her pupils, please. Do her eyes seem dilated?” Cash asks.

“I don’t know! I’m not a damn doctor!” I bite my tongue and fight back the urge to chuck the phone across the room. Shit’s exhausting, but I have to keep it together for Val’s sake.

“Flint, pupils!” Cash barks again.

“Working on it.” My hand goes to Val’s face, and she stops squirming

For just a second, I graze her cheek. Ignoring the silky smoothness of her skin, I check her like he wants.

“Give me one second, honey,” I whisper to her.

I stare deep into her eyes, focusing only on her pupils. “No, they look…I don’t know, regular-sized? I’m even less of an ophthalmologist than you,” I tell Cash.

“Of course they are, I’m fine!” She’s had it. Val pushes my arm aside, sits up, and leans close enough to shout into the phone, “I’m not having a stroke or something, Dr. Ivers. Jeez.”

“She sounds perfectly fine,” Cash chuckles. “I’m not detecting any slurred speech. It’s worse.”

“Worse?” I snarl, tearing myself away, digging the phone into my ear. “Cash, what the hell are you talking about?”

“You’ve got one pissed off lady on your hands, my man. I’m afraid that’s outside my medical expertise.”

He’s more right than he knows. Val’s on the move.

Damn it all.

She gives me a scare, shooting to the other side of the bed. I reach out to stop her, but she’s too quick, already standing up.

“You want to know the only thing wrong with me, Flint? I can’t remember a damn thing, and nobody seems to care!” She marches around the bed and darts into the bathroom.

I stand up to follow just as she slams the door shut.

“Still there?” Cash’s voice floats at me from the phone. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. It’s peachy.”

“You know, not all memory loss comes from physical trauma to the head. Sometimes, it’s inward. Trauma to the mind. If her own brother tried to kill her…then perhaps her mind doesn’t want to remember, and she’s formed a mental block in her subconscious.”

“So you’re a shrink now?” I palm my forehead, running a tired hand down my face. “No, Cash. No, dammit, we’re not going there. I can’t dislodge some mental block. I’m so fucking far outside my wheelhouse I don’t even know what planet I’m on.”

“Settle down. Let me explain,” he urges. “It’s possible her mind’s trying to keep it all from coming back. Who knows what she experienced on that boat. It could be worse than we imagine. You have to keep her calm. Keep her distracted. Nice things, Flint.”

Nice things? Right.

Sounds like a cakewalk when I’m a natural at pissing her off.

“Are you on your way yet or what?” I growl.

“No. There’s nothing I can do for her medically. I’m also backed up on appointments this afternoon, so I’ll be over later.” There’s an edge in his voice.

He sounds frustrated, and that’s something, but it’s not half as frustrated as I am.

I glance at the clock. “It’s about one o’clock.”

“I’m aware. I’m working straight through lunch. Just keep a close eye on her and do something to take her mind off the stress. You can handle that for a few hours. I’ll call you soon.” He clicks off, leaving me with my jaw hanging open.

Fucker. I throw down the phone on the mattress, where it bounces a couple times.

There’s no sense in calling him back.

No damn sense in me acting like a roid rage powerlifter either, I suppose.