“Yes, but it still hurts when it happens. Especially since I haven’t heard from him.”
“Do you want me to make some calls? Track him down?”
She shook her head. “No. I can’t go chasing after him like a love-sick school girl.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“The kind of man I think Jordan Grant is wouldn’t ditch you without a reason.”
“I’ll try again to email him again, but it has to be his decision.”
“All right. Get some rest, you’ve got a long drive tomorrow.” He kissed her forehead and left her room, closing the door behind him.
Emme threw back the covers and grabbed her laptop from the dresser. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she checked to see if Jordan was logged onto the video chat side. No luck. He didn’t believe in social media, so she couldn’t even see if he had updated his status lately.
Her last option was email. Clicking on the compose button, she poured out her heart. She’d sent one every day, but this would be the last. At some point she had to admit defeat and stop running after him. She read through the email one last time and hit send.
Jordan blinked in the dim light, trying to gain his bearings.
A hospital room. How did he get there? The back of the bed was up enough so his torso reclined a little. Glancing from one side of the room to the other, he could see he was in a single room. Judging by the low lights, it was night.
He looked around for the call button and found the control hanging from the bed rail on his right. Pain shot up his chest when he twisted. Stifling a groan, he pushed the button that looked like a stick-figure nurse. The door clicked open less than a minute later and a black man in light blue scrubs entered.
“Welcome back, Major Grant.” He put some disinfectant on his hands from the wall dispenser. “I’m Captain Flores. How’re you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a truck.” Jordan’s tongue felt thick and dry. And fuzzy. He moved it around in his mouth trying to work up some moisture. “Where am I?”
“Fort Bragg. Womack Army Hospital. Do you remember what happened?” He logged onto the computer by the bed and began clicking away with the mouse.
Jordan struggled to remember anything that would have landed him here. The last thing he recalled was video chatting with Emme. She’d been upset about something. What was…? His promotion. She’d found out he’d been offered incentives. “I turned down a promotion.”
Captain Flores’s eyebrows rose and he chuckled. “Was that before or after you got hit by a truck?”
“Before, I think.” He raised his head. “I really got hit by a truck?”
“From what I hear. Attempted suicide bomber tried to ram into your patrol. He got shot, but you zigged when you should have zagged.”
Jordan furrowed his brows. They’d been on a mission… “I don’t remember. How long ago did it happen?”
“Almost three weeks ago.” He pulled a stethoscope from his pocket and put the earpieces in his ear.
“Three weeks ago?”
Captain Flores winced and pulled the stethoscope from his ear. “Not so loud, please.”
Jordan dropped his head to the pillow. “Fuck. Why was I out for so long?”
“Deep breath.” He listed to the lower part of Jordan’s chest where he had felt the pain before removing the earpieces again. “Swelling on the brain. You were put into a medically induced coma to help you heal. I paged the doctor. She’ll go over the extent of your injuries more in depth.”
“Have I been here the entire time?”
“No. You spent most of the time at Landstuhl. You were flown here four days ago.”
“What’s up with my leg?” Jordan lifted the thin white blanket to see his leg wrapped in an ace bandage from his thigh down to mid-calf.
“The impact shattered your knee.”
