Page 52 of The Hero
“He’s agitated,” the doctor insisted.
“No shit!” Marlowe exclaimed, not caring how upset she sounded.
“Let her go! No! Marlowe, I’m coming!”
Kendric was now trying to push himself off the stretcher, and the doctor was attempting to hold him in place, which just seemed to agitate him more.
“He’s going to pull out his IV if he doesn’t stop. Come hold him down while I sedate him,” the doctor told one of the men.
“No! Let me try to calm him down. Please!” Marlowe begged.
The doctor looked at Kendric, then at her, then back to her patient. Finally, she sighed and stepped back. “Let her go,” she told the man holding Marlowe.
As soon as she was free, Marlowe raced back to Kendric’s side. She grabbed his hand and put the other on his shoulder. “I’m here, Kendric. You’re okay. I’m okay. Relax.”
His eyes were open, but they stared into space, obviously not seeing much of anything. “Punky?”
“It’s me. I’m here.”
“Don’t leave me. Don’t ever leave me!”
His words made her heart turn over in her chest. “I won’t. I’m right here.”
Even though Kendric was out of it, he turned onto his side and tugged her closer.
“Wait, no—” the doctor began, but Marlowe was already moving. She climbed onto the stretcher and plastered herself to Kendric’s front. His arm wrapped around her, clutched her to him with an iron grip.
The doctor said something in German, and Marlowe had a feeling it was probably a good thing she couldn’t understand the language. She held her breath, praying she wouldn’t be forced to move. Here in Kendric’s arms, she felt better than she had in hours.
“Try to keep him calm,” the doctor said after a moment, grabbing the sheet that had fallen to the floor during Kendric’s struggles. She draped it over them both.
Closing her eyes, Marlowe sighed in relief.
And just like that, her eyelids felt impossibly heavy. She couldn’t keep them open a second longer. She felt as if she was right where she belonged. In this man’s arms. He’d held her like this often during their escape from Thailand, and it was where she felt the most safe.
She marveled that she could soothe him, the same way he calmedher. He was quiet now, his breathing slower, and thankfully his skin didn’t seem quite as hot as it had been earlier. Marlowe prayed that meant the antibiotics were doing what they were made to do ... healing the man she loved from the inside out.
Marlowe kissed Kendric’s chest, then snuggled deeper into him. “Love you,” she whispered.
She hadn’t thought she’d said it very loud. Or that he’d even understand the words. So she was shocked when Kendric replied just as quietly, “I love you too.”
Tears sprang to her eyes once again. She’d thought she was all cried out, but apparently she was wrong. Kendric wasn’t exactly in his right mind, but she’d still treasure his words for the rest of her life.
She fell asleep seconds later. A deep, healing sleep, a result of too many hours of worry, stress, and terror that one or both of them would be caught and hauled back to Thailand and locked up.
A couple of hours later, Bob opened his eyes and tried to make sense of where he was. He didn’t recognize his surroundings and racked his brain to try to figure out what the hell was going on. The only things hedidrecognize were the woman in his arms—her scent, the feel of her body snuggled against him—and, unfortunately, the pain in his back.
“Are you awake?” a female voice asked.
Jerking in surprise, and holding back a moan from the pain the movement caused, Bob twisted his neck to look over his shoulder. A woman he’d never seen before was standing behind him, spreading some sort of salve on his wounds.
“Yeah,” he croaked.
“Good. Your wife was worried. I told her you’d be fine now that you were getting treated, but she wasn’t convinced.”
Bob put his head back down. He felt extremely weak, but the longer he was awake, the more his mind cleared. The last thing he remembered was arriving at the room Willis had arranged for him and Marlowe to hunker down in until he could arrange for their identifications and a flight out of Cambodia.
He could tell the plane they were on definitely wasn’t a commercial bird. The woman treating his wounds had a German accent, and there were a few men scattered in the seats. They were wearing official-looking uniforms ... and he suddenly recognized where he was.
