Page 69 of Stealth Mission

He’s not upset. He’s destroyed and it’s killing me.

His hands tighten around mine. “This is my fault.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s the truth.”

I pull his hands to my heart and tighten my hold on him. “Will you tell me about the accident? I can’t remember much and the hospital staff are being very hush-hush.”

Maybe getting him to talk will help with his anguish.Answers would be great since I have lots of holes in my memory, but all I truly care about is thathe’s safe.

My question has the opposite effect. The pain in his expression grows. “You might not remember. That’s not uncommon. You were unconscious. Then you were in shock. It’s normal for that time frame to be blurry at best.”

Fuzzy bits of details have come back to me about waking up in the truck. Then flying.

“Did I ride in a helicopter?”

His reply is strained as he looks down at the sheet. “Yeah, you did.”

“I’m guessing I’m in Carollia, since they don’t really do much surgery at the regional hospital near Karma.”

“I insisted that you be flown here. I only wanted the best for you.”

He’s really upset and has made sure I’m safe and taken care of. But a sense of unease builds inside me. I shiver as I try to put the pieces together, but my mind is foggy. “What caused the accident?”

For an agonizing minute the only sound is the hiss of machines.

Walt drops his chin to his chest, his head swaying back and forth. When he meets my gaze again, his eyes are red, his throat is taunt. Wetness beads on his dark eye lashes.

That look alone crushes something fragile in me.

I’m scared to ask him what is wrong.

In a destroyed voice, he grinds out, “Another car bomb.”

First, I’m breathless. Then I’m in utter shock.

“A bomb on the truck?” My hands shake violently.“Lord.How? I can’t believe we survived.”

A fresh wave of fear wells up inside of me.A car bomb. On his truck.

I can’t speak for a long time. When I do, I sound ancient. “Thank god, we’re both alive.”

He leans over, putting his elbows on the bed, resting his head between his hands. There are deep furrows through his thick hair like he’s been pulling it all day.

I bet he was in the waiting room doing this exact thing.

A pain slices through me. Pain for him. My lip quivers as I breathe through the overwhelming emotion. I’ve never felt the need to hold someone so badly.

To hug him. Comfort him. But when I try to move, it hurts.

It’s impossible to hide my quick intake of air. “Ouch. Okay. I can’t climb the jungle-gym for a few days.”

“Don’t move.” Swiping a hand over his face, Walt covers his grimace. “Just please lay still and rest.”

“I want to hug you.”

He looks at me with such intensity you’d think I told him I wanted to have his baby. Confusion wells up in his gaze, only to be swamped by something darker.

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