Masters at Arms - By Kallypso Masters Page 0,56

be loved….

But he wouldn’t be carrying her anywhere ever again. He wouldn’t saddle her with a cripple, even if he could find her. She deserved a whole man—nothing less to match her perfection. He tucked away the memories of their one idyllic day at the beach. Those images would have to last him the rest of his life.

He should have just fallen on the grenade and been done with it. Why hadn’t he? A hero would have done that. They’d pinned a god-damned Purple Heart on his chest a few days ago, but he’d stowed it away in his seabag. All he’d done was get wounded—and let a man die. Why did he need a fucking reminder medal for that?

If he’d been a true hero, he’d have saved Sarge’s life. The man had a wife and three kids back home. Fuck. Just months from returning home and he’d been killed by a fucking hand grenade. So damned senseless.

Dios, you took the wrong Marine home.

Damián heard a squeaking wheel and looked up. “Doc? What are you doing here?” The corpsman wore a hospital robe that barely fit across his shoulders. He wheeled an IV pole that kept veering away from him. Each time, he’d pull it back in line.

Damián had heard what the man had done to save him from further injury. Doc had taken the very shrapnel in his chest that might have finished the job for Damián. Another wasted opportunity. Another man became a casualty because of him.

“Just got here this morning. Took me a little longer to get out of Fallujah than you.” Damián watched as Doc’s gaze roamed over him, head to foot…and stub. His gaze stopped to linger there a little longer, then returned to Damián’s face. “Wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Can’t complain.” Not out loud, at least. “How about you?”

“Coming around. Should be headed home in a week or so if the infection doesn’t come back.” Doc took a series of shallow breaths as if the exertion of walking and talking had taken a toll on him.

“Take a load off, Doc.”

“Thanks.” He pulled the chair closer to the bed. “How about you? Any news on when you’ll head home?”

Home. He had no home to go to anymore. He’d always dreamed about having a home with Savannah. But that dream had faded one November day on a rooftop in Fallujah.

“Nah. They say I’m headed eventually to the Naval Medical Center near Pendleton for rehab.”

The two remained silent for a moment. Doc broke the solitude and asked, “Then what?”

Stunned by the question, Damián just sat there and stared back at him. He really had no fucking clue what he’d do after that. He didn’t even see himself finishing rehab. What would be the point? Damián shrugged.

“Don’t you have a girl waiting for you?”

Damián looked away. “No. There was one once, but she was out of my league.”

“You’re a Marine now. You’re going to find you’re in a league of your own. You’ll have women falling at your feet.”

Damián met Doc’s gaze and said, “Foot, you mean.” He pointed at the stub.

“Nobody’s perfect. You have a lot more going for you than looks and a body. The right woman will overlook shit like that if she really loves you.” Doc ended his speech by sucking several more breaths into his lungs.

Damián wished the man wouldn’t get so riled up. No way would he change his mind. First chance he had, he’d put an end to this miserable life. When Doc caught his breath, he asked, “Does she even know what’s happened?”

“No. We haven’t kept in touch.”

“Maybe if she knew…”

“I don’t even fucking know where she is!” Damián regretted his tone as soon as the words came out. “Sorry, Doc. It was nothing more than a day of hot sex with a Latino on the beach. Let’s just drop it.”

“Orlando, you have more integrity, courage, and honor than anyone she’ll ever meet again.”

Those words burned in his craw more than any others. “I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn’t do anything courageous. Sarge is dead. You got wounded trying to save my sorry ass. You guys are the heroes, not me.”

Damián’s chest hurt now, too. He put his forearm over his eyes to hide the embarrassing tears that sprang from nowhere. “I’d like to get some sleep now.” He knew his voice sounded ungrateful, but didn’t care.

“I’ll see you later.”

Madre de Dios. I wish everyone would fucking leave me alone to