to stay off the leg and give it a chance to heal.”
“And what about Moira?”
“We’re not discussing that again. You’re no use to her if you become a liability to the team.”
A growl escapes me and my fingers curl.
Liability.
That’s a fighting word. I feel like a caged beast, caught on Doc Summers’ very short leash, and I’m tired of this senseless waiting.
“It’s time to do something.”
“Don’t you think Forest has every hand on deck?” Her brow arches again. Unlike her assistant, I don’t intimidate her.
I think Forest believes Moira’s lost to us, but I would never say that out loud. I’ve seen that man move mountains to bring home those who’ve been taken.
“I need to be out there looking for Moira, not sitting on my ass doing VR sims.” I may be out of action, physically, but that doesn’t mean I’m not working. Around here, the work never stops. I’m either in the VR suite helping our OCD tech genius, Mitzy, with whatever new upgrade she wants to test out, or I’m on the range shooting dimes at four hundred yards.
I run my hands through my hair and pace in a circle. Moira’s out there and I’m doing nothing to bring her home.
I’m her protector. Her Guardian. I saved her once. I’ll do it again, but right now, I’m doing shit to save her. It’s driving me fucking crazy.
Saving others defines my very existence. I should be out there, rescuing Moira, and defending her from the worst humanity has to offer. Instead, the doc makes me sit on the sidelines.
“Another couple of days, Griff.” Doc Summers stares up at me with eyes that say she knows exactly the kind of hell I’m in. Her expression also tells me I’m not going to get her to budge.
“The bum leg means nothing to me.” I implore her, but she only shakes her head.
“The pain?” Her gaze hardens. “You’re trying too hard to hide that limp.”
“Frankly, the pain’s irrelevant. I’ve pushed through, and past, worse pain.”
“No doubt you have, but that’s under duress. This is healing. You need to give it time. Stay off the leg, stop pushing, and do the physical therapy.”
“I’m slaying your PT like there’s no tomorrow. I’m doing great.”
“You grit your teeth through your sessions, then hobble back to your bunk. You refuse to take the pain medication, and your blood pressure is through the roof. Do I need to tell you what happens if you stroke out?”
“No.” She’s already gotten on me about that. “What do I have to do to prove to you that I’m operational?”
“Until you sit your Guardian ass down and obey doctor’s orders, you’re going nowhere. Your saphenous vein was ripped to shreds. It hasn’t even been seventy-two hours since you lay on my operating table bleeding out. Give it time.”
“You fixed it.” The gunshot to my leg ripped a hole in a major vein and damaged my quadriceps on that side. She’s not kidding about the limp. My leg hurts like a motherfucker.
“With stitches that take time to heal.”
“How much time?”
“More than a few days.” She vents a frustrated sigh. “Come on, Griff. You push too hard or too fast, and you’ll undo all my marvelous handiwork. Trust me, if you go back under my knife because of your goddamn stupidity, or pig-headedness, you might come out of anesthesia one ball short. Stop testing me on this.”
My balls draw up at the threat. Doc Summers doesn’t fool around.
I know this. She’s already explained everything to me: how long to give the vein time to heal, how long it’ll take the torn muscles to recover, all the shit.
I’m lucky that damn bullet didn’t hit the femoral artery, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I’d be six feet under communing with worms.
“I am obeying orders.” She’s feisty, but I’m bullheaded. I’ll push until I get what I want. We’re locked in a battle of wills; a war I’m determined to win.
Except, I’m not—winning that is. She’s won every battle between us and I’m losing the war. The doc is one tough chick, camouflaged in a pretty package, but she’s tough as nails.
I fight her at every turn because I need medical clearance to get back into action. That comes when she’s good and ready to give it to me. Don’t care what the fuck she says, a simple bullet wound won’t keep me down.
“Give it two weeks.” She gives a sharp shake of her head. “You do everything I say, stop pushing the PT,