Chapter Seven

The Ghost of Collins

Tucker

Ella’s breathing slowed within a few moments of his vow, his little girl apparently not so perturbed by his promise that sleep couldn’t sweep her away. He watched her body slump in his peripheral vision, envying the ease with which she found slumber. Sleep had been increasingly difficult for him to find since her arrival, and when it came, it was often accosted by vivid and disturbing dreams. Somehow, having her around had reignited the memories of his military days, dragging up the old ghost of Collins’ betrayal.

“Bastard.” His jaw stiffened as he contemplated his old foe.

There had once been a time when Collins had seemed like his hero. He’d been the one who’d run to his rescue in the bunker, and Tucker was in no doubt, without Collins’ intervention, he’d have been shot dead in that dark corridor. Later, though, the motivation of his alleged savior was revealed to be less honorable.

Sliding into a lower gear, he slowed the engine as the old recollections rushed to greet him.

Around five months had passed since Collins had dragged him out of the bunker. That time had been etched bizarrely into his mind for both its jarring speed and endless, protracted days. There were weeks of agony where healing had seemed all but impossible, but slowly, his body had started to recover from the multiple gunshots his target had inflicted. Flown home as soon as was feasible, Tucker spent most of that time holed up in a dingy and remote military hospital that was miles from his so-called friends. Isolated and in pain, he’d had a lot of time to think.

Too much time.

That was when the questions about Collins’ part in the fudged mission had become difficult to dismiss.

Collins had been on standby that night. There hadn’t been any communication between him and Tucker once Tucker had gained entrance to the bunker, so how the hell had he known to come to Tucker’s aid, let alone arrive at the precise moment before the target finished him?

Somehow, no matter how hard Tucker tried to deconstruct the events of that night, the pieces of the puzzle just didn’t make sense. Collins had to have been tipped off about what would happen. He must have known the target would be waiting for Tucker and when to arrive and pull him to safety. Yet Tucker didn’t know how…

As he brooded on the questions, only one thing seemed certain. Tucker couldn’t trust Collins, and the medal their superiors had seen fit to award him only intensified his fury and mistrust.

He didn’t like to think that his leaders had been in cahoots with whatever Collins’ ill-purpose was, but he’d had to wonder if it could be true. The fact Collins had been rewarded for what seemed like blatant duplicity really stuck in his craw. That had been the moment he’d known his destiny awaited beyond the walls of military service, but it was one specific conversation he’d had with Collins that was burned into his psyche as he sped down the open road.

Well on his way to recovery, Tucker had almost been ready for discharge on the day Collins had paid him an impromptu visit.

“How are you, old man?” Collins flashed him a grin as he strode into the room and offered him his hand.

Tucker eyed his palm thoughtfully, considering rejecting the gesture but deciding against it. Whatever suspicions he had about the guy would need to be substantiated before he could rebuff Collins.

“I’m finally back on my feet.” Of course, his injuries had all been in his arms and shoulder, so he’d never actually been off his feet. Tucker watched as Collins landed in the high-backed chair beside his bed. Funny, he didn’t remember asking him to sit down. “It’s good of you to come.”

“I had to see how you were doing.” Collins feigned compassion well. He’d give him that, but Tucker was a good enough reader of people that he could see the smile at his lips didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s not every day I haul someone back from the dead.”

Back from the dead?

Tucker’s brow furrowed. That was slightly overstating Collins’ achievement. Tucker had little doubt that the target would have finished him off, but he wasn’t actually dying as he lay bleeding in the bunker. The guy beside him was giving himself too much credit.

“Yeah, well, thanks for what you did.”

What did you do?

Tucker stared at the dark-haired guy, wondering if the question shone in his glare.

“Don’t mention it,” Collins replied, although Tucker sensed it wouldn’t be the last time he did. “My buddy was down, and I had to help.”

Buddy? Tucker’s toes curled. He was no one’s buddy.

“How did you know I was injured?” His voice was casual as he asked, but the way he watched Collins’ responses was not. “I never had a chance to radio for help.” Not that he ever would have. Tucker would have rather died there on the cold, dirty floor than called for backup. Backup just wasn’t his style.

It took Collins a couple of seconds before he replied, the increased speed of his breathing and glint of sweat at his brow confirming what Tucker had already guessed—whatever came next was a lie.

“Instinct, I guess.” Collins’ lips stretched wider. “I sensed something was wrong when I heard shots.”

“But the plan had always been for me to shoot the target.” Tucker presented his query as intrigue, but in truth, this had been the crux of the matter for him—the fragment of events that had kept him awake night after night as he tried to rest in the claustrophobic hospital room. He couldn’t wait to be free of the prison of medical routines, couldn’t wait to be back in nature again. “So, how did you know to come to me?”

“I don’t know, really.” Collins’ expression was bemused, as though he couldn’t believe Tucker was pressing the point, but he had news for Collins. He’d do more than only press, and if he got a whiff of foul play, his so-called savior would pay. “But I bet you’re glad that I did!”

“I sure am.” Tucker reached for his glass of water, ignoring the ripping pain that shot up along his arm. “Where would I be without you, Buddy ?”

He emphasized the final word on purpose, watching Collins flinch as he registered the sound.

“You’re welcome.” Collins sounded sheepish as he replied, his attention turning to the clock on the wall opposite them. “Listen, I’d better be going. I don’t want to wear you out.”

“I hear they gave you a medal for what you did.” Tucker’s heart hammered as the lying swine rose to his feet.

He’d never wanted Collins to come, but somehow, the fact that he had only focused Tucker’s skepticism. Collins had been involved in what happened that night at the bunker, and after his visit, there was no doubt in Tucker’s mind.

“That’s right.” Collins forced another smile as he turned to face Tucker.

“And a promotion?” News of the upgraded position and significant pay rise had stung even more than the accolade.

“Yeah.” Collins’ smile started to fade. “Who told you?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Tucker could hardly recall his source. Weeks of painkillers meant many of his recent memories were sketchy at best, but he’d managed to retain the important information. “But, wow, good for you, Collins. Look at you go.” He wasn’t even trying to be friendly anymore, and it showed in his dry tone. “You came out of this really well.”

“What are you trying to say?” Collins’ brows knitted as the penny finally dropped in his head. Tucker wasn’t his friend—he never had been—and these days, he had fewer reasons to trust the sod than ever before. “You think I helped you just for a medal and some money?” His face was reddening, reminding Tucker of a kettle that was ready to boil over.

“Hell, no.” Tucker shook his head. “I’m sure you only did what you were told.” A toad like Collins wouldn’t have had the ingenuity to actually come up with a plan himself. “Or maybe you were blackmailed or bribed into it.”

“Fuck you!” Collins squared off to him, his upper lip curling. “I saved your ass, yet you have the audacity to insult me!”

“Is that what I’m doing?” Even though Tucker wasn’t strong enough to fight back if the prick was stupid enough to throw a punch, he was surprised at how enthralling the interaction was. It was the closest he’d felt to ‘alive’ since the day of the mission, and something had felt ‘off’ about the assignment right from the get-go. “I thought I was asking questions and trying to figure out what really went down that night.”

“What went down was you.” The sneer on Collins’ face revealed his true character. “And without me, you’d have been a dead man.”

“That’s true,” Tucker admitted. “I sure have a lot to thank you for.”

“Why am I hearing raised voices in here?” Nurse Kennedy stood in the doorway, her usually gentle voice hardened as her focus flitted between the two men. “Color Sargeant Collins, I thought I told you that my patient needs to remain calm?”

“Oh, it’s Lieutenant Collins now, Nurse.” Tucker couldn’t resist the final jibe. “I believe his recent promotion meant he jumped more than one rank.”

“Fuck you!” Collins hissed in Tucker’s direction.

“Mr. Collins!” Nurse Kennedy jabbed a slender finger at Collins.

She was rather too attractive to be a nurse, and Tucker could easily imagine how she might have looked out of her starched uniform, but the mixture of medicines he’d been on had subdued his usually rampant libido. These days he wondered why he’d needed so much pussy in the past.

“I don’t care what rank you are. Inside this room, I’m in charge, and I will not tolerate that language from patients or visitors!”

Collins hung his head like a naughty schoolboy. Tucker had the distinct impression that in another scenario, Collins might have enjoyed the scolding.

“Apologies,” Collins mumbled. “I let my anger get the better of me.”

“Yes, you did.” The nurse’s hands rose to her hips. “And now I’ll ask that you leave.”

“Sure.” Collins peered back at Tucker, his gaze withering as he made his way past Nurse Kennedy to the door. “I’m sorry to have upset you, Nurse.”

“I’m not sure it’s me you should be apologizing to.” She sighed as Collins strode straight out of the room.

“He’s under a lot of stress,” Tucker offered by means of explanation as she wandered over to check his pulse.

“And he’s done nothing to help your blood pressure, I’m sure.” Her gaze slid to the machine he was connected to. Its bleeping noises never stopped, and Tucker couldn’t wait to be free of the damn thing.

“I’ll survive.”

That much was clear. However Tucker had managed to escape assassination in the bunker, he was alive, and he held onto that idea with the type of gusto he’d rarely contemplated before the experience. Death was a foe that soldiers lived with on a daily basis, but after such a close brush with it, Tucker realized his end held little fear anymore.

Whatever he did next, he intended to live as if every day was his last. He’d hold his head up and feel the sun on his skin, he’d relish the rain in his hair, and if his plans came to fruition, he’d build the cabin that had been haunting his dreams for so long. Preferably, somewhere he could plant some of those purple flowers his mother had always liked.

“Yes, Tucker.” Her lips curled as she released his wrist. “I think you might. A couple more days of healing and you should be ready for discharge.”

“Great.” He glanced out of the nearby window as she collected the clipboard from the end of his bed and made a note of his latest stats. “It’ll sure be good to get some fresh air again.”

“Are you due back on duty when you leave here?” She peered at him over the clipboard, but he noticed the small blush that bloomed on her face.

“Why, Nurse?” He straightened, aware of what might be on her mind. “Are you going to ask me out?”

“Of course not!” she snapped, dropping the clipboard into place and dashing to refill his water. “Even once you’re discharged, that would be totally unethical.”

“Right… totally unethical.” He stifled laughter as she spilled the liquid and busied herself with drying the puddle it left on his table. “I’m actually thinking of discharge from service as well as here.” He looked around the depressing little room, conscious of how glad he’d be to finally be out of the cell. The staff here might have brought him back to life, but the décor did little to make it worth living.

“Oh.” Her brow rose as she dabbed up the spill. “You want to leave the military?”

“Yeah.” He sighed as he eased himself back against his pillow. “I’ve done my time. I’m ready to move on.”

The memory felt like a thousand years ago to Tucker as the road he was driving finally found an intersection with the highway. A lot had happened since that day in the hospital.

Bringing the car to a halt, he looked over at the Sleeping Beauty beside him. Ella was one wonderful example of that change, but there was a litany of others. Tucker wasn’t the same man who’d wielded a gun for his government, and he never would be, but still, the question of Collins’ betrayal burned in his mind like a loose end that threatened to unravel the fabric of everything if he didn’t attend to it.

He turned left, enjoying the purr of the Lamborghini as he dashed them off into the night. By the time Ella was awake, they would be close to the city and a life that resembled the one she’d once known.