Page 119 of Only the Devil
I picture the bearded grump, and grin. “Yes, I’m dating someone.”
She squeals. “What’s his name? Did you meet him out there? Is he the one who gave you the fat salary?” I almost tell her about Jake getting hurt because of me, but the words stick in my throat. Some things are too fresh, too raw to share with someone who wasn’t there.
The hospital room door opens and Jake, still in his hospital bed on wheels, gets pushed in.
“Gotta run. Bye, Claire.” I end the call and ask, “What’d they say?”
“I should be released as soon as they get the paperwork done. There’s no need for surgery but they want me to meet with my cardiologist and discuss a treatment plan.” The nurse’s brow crinkles with her frown. “And that plan may include surgery,” he amends.
“Where’s your cardiologist?”
He shrugs. “Last one I saw was back on base.”
“We’ll find one in Chicago,” I say, pulling out my phone to send Rhodes a message. I could search for a top-rated doctor, but Rhodes has connections. He’ll find the best, and with his referral, Jake won’t have any problem getting seen.
Jake leans back against the pillow, eyes half-lidded. The chaos, the gunfire, the fear—it all feels distant now, like a nightmare fading with the new day. My phone buzzes again, but I ignore it. For once, the world can wait.
Jake scratches at his jaw. His facial hair grows in remarkably fast–the goatee has morphed back into a beard. “Gonna need your trimmer again.”
“Nah, I like the beard.”
An eye pops open. “You do?”
“Yeah…I do. But I like the shorter hairstyle, I think.” I sit up on the edge of the bed, tousling his hair because I can. He captures my hand and presses his lips to my palm.
“You gonna miss that fat salary?”
“Not at all,” I answer honestly. “It never felt right. Are you going to miss your double salary?”
“Nope. I’ve got more than enough.”
I watch him settle back against the pillows, his eyelids heavy but his smile lazy and sure. For once, there’s nothing left to fix, nothing left to run from. Just us—and the promise of whatever comes next.
Epilogue
One Week Later
Jake
* * *
Daisy’s apartment in Chicago isn’t what I expected. I don’t know what I expected, but I thought, given she’s pretty well off, she’d spend money on a nicer space. It’s not that her place is bad, necessarily. After all, it’s comparable to anything my single Navy buds in their twenties would rent. Third-floor walkup, one bedroom with a fire escape that doubles as a balcony with a view of the building across the street.
She splurged on the sofa, and for that, I give her props, as she’s forced me to spend a lot of time on it. But I’m about done with all that. Yes, I slipped on taking my meds, and I’ve promised to be a good boy and keep up with them moving forward. But meds or not, that taser would’ve kicked my ass. Apparently my blood pressure is sky high so I’ve agreed to skip red meat until it drops. Not forever, that was not in the agreement. But something tells me when I clear my next physical, Daze and I might come to blows on that one.
The phone rings and Hudson’s name flashes. I pick up and set it to speaker since Daisy’s on a lunch run.
“Hey there,” I answer. “Thought the meeting was at thirteen hundred.”
“It is. Checking in on the patient.”
“For fuck’s sake, I am not a patient.”
“Roger that. Daisy hasn’t kicked you to the curb yet?”
I inhale, grinning. “Now why would she do that? I’m a catch.”
“Somehow I’m finding it hard to believe the non-patient has been easy to live with this last week.”
