They were off to a good start on the ride from the Landstuhl hospital to the Frankfurt airport, chatting as Johnny negotiated the ninety-minute drive. Lizzy was happy to be discharged after twelve days in the hospital. It all went to shit when he pulled into the rental lane, ran around and leaned over to unclip her belt. It could’ve been the click, or him looming too far into her personal space. She flinched like he’d hit her. Her panic attack slammed in like a tidal wave. This was something new to her, and her terror and confusion slammed through him as she wordlessly begged for help. Johnny crouched on the tarmac for thirty minutes, ignoring angry motorists, instead chatting, asking questions, and gradually pulling her out of the flashback.
His mind raced over his limited choices. Take her back to the clinic or check them into a Frankfurt hotel for the night or board the plane with an emotionally traumatized subject. Once she’d recovered her
The night had been a rough one, even with the light on and Johnny back on the floor. The screams that woke him had Johnny trying to calm a spooked Lizzy. The terror reflected in her unseeing gaze broke his heart, but not half as much as the pitiful begging that followed.Gripped by the nightmares, she pleaded, “Don’t hurt him, master. I’ll wear it. He’s just a kid. It’s me you want. No! Let go!” She grabbed at her splinted finger.“Lizzy, baby. Wake up.”Instead, she went stiff. “Don’t let him eat me. Please. No. No!”Johnny grasped her shoulders and gently shook her. Gulping sobs had him pulling her onto his lap. She screamed and fought, but he held her to him, humming an old country ballad as he rocked her.She finally settled, whispered thanks and asked him to let her go. She turned her back and curled into a ball. The second attack occurred an hour later and then again in the ear
Five days later and her new routine held her cemented in that same spot. Three nights of bloodcurdling night terrors and agonizing pain around her injury. Mornings spent at this fence post. Afternoons with Dr. Greene, who was an okay therapist, Lizzy supposed. She battled to open up to the old biddy. What did that old bird know about being held hostage by extremists?What did anyone know? It was tempting to reach out to Mason Clark. He was the only other one who lived through the Scythian terror. Was he as broken as she felt? Did he have a stable support system?John was her rock. Lizzy wasn’t sure what a self-entitled, ungrateful and now damaged girl did to deserve such devotion. He’d slept on the freaking floor beside her bed—a fussing warrior watching her every move.Well, that wasn’t fair. Not every move. He kept his distance when there were chores to be done, only pausing to shake her out of the reverie and force her to eat.C
Upon waking, the first thing he registered was the smell of bacon and eggs. The night had been a peaceful one. No night terrors or gut-churning screaming. His phone buzzed. MIT. Johnny reached over to take the quick call.After pulling on a T-shirt, he wandered downstairs. The happy scene made him pause. Lizzy munched on a piece of toast as she laid out some plates. Freshly picked flowers sat in a vase; the bright blooms matched the cheeriness of her teal blue dress. Minimal makeup enhanced her ethereal beauty. He loved her whether she chose to go barefaced or chose to wear makeup, he knew the makeup made her feel girly, and it was nice to see that small sparkle twinkling in her wide blue eyes.She plated a massive portion and plonked it down in front of him.“Shit, girl, I’m going to have to double my PT on the course today, to get rid of this mountain of calories.”“What course?”“I built an out-course. It&rsqu
Therapy started the next day with massages to the injury site to reduce scar sensitivity. Lack of mobility and stiffness were challenges to be overcome. The occupational therapist limited her activities, and Lizzy could see why. The hand was far from functional and would remain that way for three months. No gripping, twisting tightened objects or using the palm to push out of a chair. The surgery had removed and rerouted tendons and nerves, to aid with functionality, and to overuse the hand would cause damage.When her first session finally ended, and the therapist left, she shook with pain. John stepped through the back door as she gulped down a couple of pain pills.“You need to eat something.”“Yes, sir!”“Don’t get snarky,” he said, pulling out a loaf of sliced bread. “By the way, I need to run down to Salt Lake tomorrow. I’m meeting the team at Camp Williams. We’re looking at a
When Lizzy woke, she dressed and snuck out of the house, not ready to face John. He was right, her behavior towards him was unfair. Why did she always mess things up? It was as if he fought for their survival and she pulled them to their demise.She assumed he’d have stayed overnight in Salt Lake. She’d guessed wrong and should’ve known him better. John would never have left her overnight and her misjudgment had got her in trouble.Lizzy sidled through the fence and wandered through the outbuildings on Charlie’s property. She greeted a couple of cowhands before walking past the barn.She paused, staring at the open doors. It’s just a barn. The smell of hay and farmyard animals drifted on the breeze, and her stomach roiled. Would she ever see stables and not think of the Scythian? Charlie’s actual stables sat two buildings down from where she stood, and from what Lizzy could see, the barn itself only held machinery and
He must be around three years old, Lizzy thought as Gabe clambered into her lap. Darn her stubborn nature, she’d left this reunion for too long. The ragamuffin had grown. Lizzy ran a hand over his thick dark curls. She saw so much of Abby in the little man who even had his mother’s slightly stubborn looking chin.“Careful of Aunt Lizzy’s hand!” Abby yelled as Gabe tucked in his stubby legs and situated himself.Max chewed on a gummy worm and handed the kid a sip cup.The two women sat in the shade of the cottonwood chatting as John warmed up the grill. Lizzy played with Gabe’s curls. The last time she’d seen the tyke, he was around eighteen months. Now he was a whole little person with a clear agenda.Gabe yelled at his dad. Lizzy didn’t catch the garbled request. Abby rolled her eyes as Max answered. “I said no, Gabriel. Uncle Johnny doesn’t have any and I’m not going into town.&rdqu
Balancing tentatively on the ball of her foot, Lizzy poked her head through the canopy of leaves. Wyoming was truly breathtaking. Silence surrounded her. Not true silence as she could still hear insects buzzing, the leaves rustling in the afternoon breeze and a bleating sheep answered by three more. The distant hills looked so clear in the waning light, the golden rays contrasting with shadowed crevices in the craggy mountainside. She missed climbing trees; she still loved it.Her head sank back below the branches, and Lizzy looked down. The branch she balanced on bent under her weight, and she transferred her foot to a sturdier limb. The new branch instantly disintegrated, almost melting into thin air. Before she could comprehend her predicament, she fell to the earth, bouncing through and over battering limbs. Just before she slammed into the ground, strong arms caught her and they fell, rolling down a steep hill at a dizzying pace.A scarlet blur filled her vision a
Two days later, Max and Donnie rolled out, headed for training at Camp Williams with the newest team member, Dylan Jenkins. A local Utahan sniper from the 19th Special Forces Group. Johnny admired the laid-back soldier. Aside from his Army career, the operator embodied a reckless, surfer-like attitude as a well-known snowboarder in Utah. It would be interesting to see how their uptight team leader handled the Owen Wilson wannabe. Dylan’s long-range marksmanship and excellent skills in the field would make him a valuable MIT member—aside from the additional training lined up for him at MIT headquarters later in the month. At Max’s insistence, Johnny stayed behind with Lizzy. As they were still evaluating Jenkins’ skills, it wasn’t essential for Johnny to be at Camp Williams. If they needed him, they’d call.***“I forget how hot the summers can get in some parts of the States, is late May supposed to be this warm?” Abby gr