Page 33 of Shattered

Chapter Eleven

Nate woke to utter confusion. It felt like he was trapped deep beneath the water, the weight pushing him down, making his limbs sluggish as he swam toward the surface.

He clawed his way toward it, fighting through layer after layer. Then he realized the smothering sensation was because he couldn’t breathe right. And the pain. The pain made him want to go back under, escape. But something told him he had to surface now, or he would drown.

Someone was calling him. He headed for it. Held onto it and used it as beacon in the heavy darkness.

The nearer he got to the surface, the worse the pain got. His body tensed, recoiling from the pain.

His head pounded like someone was driving a steel spike into it, his chest and abdomen were on fire, and every breath hurt. But he knew that voice. That sweet, gentle voice coming from next to him.

He opened his eyes in the darkness, searching for her. “T…Taya,” he ground out.

“Yes. Yes, I’m here,” she said with a half-sob.

He was too weak to even turn his head toward her. Searing agony knifed his insides. He shallowed his breathing, concentrated on her voice. The sadness in it alarmed him even more.

That Taya was near tears told him it had to be bad.Reallyfucking bad. Jesus, was he dying?

She pressed her cheek to his, cupped his other one in her palm while he ran through the areas that hurt. He could move his hands and feet, but he couldn’t remember the names of the parts that were sorest, except his head. Why was everything so foggy?

The sweet, spicy combination of vanilla and cinnamon filled his nostrils, calming his galloping heart a little. “What…”

“Are you in pain?”

He tried to nod. Instantly regretted it as pain shot up his neck and through his skull, stealing his breath.

“Shh, just lie still,” she murmured, gently stroking his hair now. “Do you remember the crash?”

Crash? “Mmm mmm.” It hurt to talk. Hurt tothink.

“Your team was involved in a plane crash. Everyone survived, but you went back to help some wounded crewmen. There was an explosion. They had to operate on you to repair your lung and liver, and removed your spleen. You had a really bad concussion too. You’ve been asleep since it happened over two weeks ago.”

Oh, shit.

He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate, to remember. A plane? They must have been headed out on a mission or training op. Why couldn’t he remember?

Little fragments came back to him. Flashes of memory. Him holding Taya in his lap at the team barbecue at DeLuca’s place. She’d fallen asleep with her dinner in her hands. He’d been angry about something on the way home. Then he’d been packing. He’d stood in their bedroom looking down at Taya curled up asleep in their bed. Marveling at her because—

The baby. They were having a baby.

His heart thudded harder as he tried to remember what happened after that. But there was nothing else. Not even a glimmer. Only a blank wall.

“It’s okay, the doctors said some short-term memory loss was inevitable. And they’ve got you on a lot of different meds right now.” Taya stroked his hair again. “I’m just so glad you’re awake and talking to me, and that you can move.” Relief was heavy in her voice.

He was still trying to process all of that, wrap his mind around it, when the noise in the room increased. Taya remained where she was as other people came in with rapid footsteps. Moments later people were poking him, prodding him, asking questions that all blurred together.

Nate clamped his back teeth together, fighting the urge to yell at them to shut the hell up. He hurt all over, he was scared to death, and just wanted his wife. Needed to see and feel her.

Cutting through all the noise and motion around him, he reached out a hand for Taya. “Turn on the light,” he managed. “Want to see you.”

Everything went quiet. A sudden, deafening silence filled the room, as if they’d been placed inside a giant vacuum and all sound had been sucked out of the room.

Taya’s cool hand closed around his, her slender fingers squeezing tight. “Nathan… The lightison.”

The words hit him like a sledgehammer to the chest, forcing all the air from his lungs, a crushing pressure clamping around his aching ribs.

A bolt of sheer terror forked through him, sending a wave of ice through his body.

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