Tall, Dark and Fearless: Frisco's Kid

“Run,” Frisco told him.

Thomas ran.

CHAPTER NINE

THE HOSPITAL EMERGENCY room was crowded. Mia was ignored by the nurses at the front desk, so she finally gave up and simply walked into the back. She was stepped around, pushed past and nearly knocked over as she searched for Frisco.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for—”

“Not now, dear,” a nurse told her, briskly moving down the hallway.

Mia heard him before she saw him. His voice was low, and his language was abominable. It was definitely Alan Francisco.

She followed the sound of his voice into a big room that held six beds, all filled. He was sitting up, his right leg stretched out in front of him, his injured knee swollen and bruised. His T-shirt was covered with blood, he had a cut on his cheekbone directly underneath his right eye and his elbows and other knee looked abraded and raw.

A doctor was examining his knee. “That hurt, too?” he asked, glancing up at Frisco.

Yes, was the gist of the reply, minus all of the colorful superlatives. A new sheen of sweat had broken out on Frisco’s face, and he wiped at his upper lip with the back of one hand as he braced himself for the rest of the examination.

“I thought you promised Tasha no more bad words.”

Startled, he looked up, and directly into her eyes. “What are you doing here? Where’s Tash?”

Mia had surprised him. And not pleasantly, either. She could see myriad emotions flicker across hisface. Embarrassment. Shame. Humiliation. She knew he didn’t want her to see him like this, looking beaten and bloodied.

“She’s with Thomas,” Mia told him. “I thought you might want…” What? She thought he might want a hand to hold? No, she already knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t need or want that. She shook her head. She’d come here purely for herself. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Depends on your definition of the word,” he said. “In my book, it means I’m not dead.”

“Excuse me, miss, but is Mr. Francisco a friend of yours?” It was the doctor. “Perhaps you’ll be able to convince him to take the pain medication we’ve offered him.”

Mia shook her head. “No, I don’t think I’ll be able to do that. He’s extremely stubborn—and it’s Lieutenant, not Mister. If he’s decided that he doesn’t want it—”

“Yes, he has decided he doesn’t want it,” Frisco interjected. “And he also hates being talked about as if he weren’t in the room, so do you mind…?”

“The medication would make him rest much more comfortably—”

“Look, all I want you to do is X-ray my damn knee and make sure it’s not broken. Do you think maybe you can do that?”

“He’s a lieutenant in which organization?” the doctor asked Mia.

“Please ask him directly,” she said. “Surely you can respect him and not talk over his head this way.”

“I’m with the Navy SEALs—was with the SEALs,” Frisco said.

The doctor snapped closed Frisco’s patient clipboard. “Perfect. I should have known. Nurse!” he shouted, already striding away. “Send this man to X-ray, and then arrange a transfer over to the VA facility up by the naval base….”

Frisco was watching Mia, and when she turned to look at him, he gave her a half smile. “Thanks for trying.”

“Why don’t you take the pain medicine?” she asked.

“Because I don’t want to be stoned and drooling when Dwayne comes back for round two.”

Mia couldn’t breathe. “Comes back?” she repeated. “Why? Who was he anyway? And what did he want?”

Frisco shifted his weight, unable to keep from wincing. “Apparently my darling sister owes him some money.”

“How much money?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” He shook his head. “I’m gonna pay Sharon a little visit in the morning—to hell with the detox center’s rules.”

“When I saw that knife he was holding…” Mia’s voice shook and she stopped. She closed her eyes, willing back the sudden rush of tears. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been that scared. “I didn’t want to leave you there alone.”

She opened her eyes to find him watching her, the expression on his face unreadable. “Didn’t you think I could take that guy and win?” he asked softly.

She didn’t need to answer him—she knew he could read her reply in her eyes. She knew how painful it was for him to walk, even with a cane. She knew his limitations. How could he have taken on a man as big as Dwayne—a man who had a knife, as well—and not been hurt? And he had been hurt. Badly, it looked like.

He laughed bitterly, looking away from her. “No wonder you damn near ran away from me on the beach. You don’t think I’m much of a man, do you?”

Mia was shocked. “That’s not true! That’s not why—”

“Time to go down to X-ray,” a nurse announced, pushing a wheelchair up to Frisco’s bed.

Frisco didn’t wait for the nurse to help him. He lifted himself off the bed and lowered himself into the chair. He jostled his knee, and it had to have hurt like hell, but he didn’t say a word. When he looked up at Mia, though, she could see all of his pain in his eyes. “Just go home,” he said quietly.

“They’re backed up down there—this could take a while, a few hours even,” the nurse informed Mia as she began pushing Frisco out of the room. “You can’t come with him, so you’ll just be sitting out in the waiting room. If you want to leave, he could call you when he’s done.”

“No, thank you,” Mia said. She turned to Frisco. “Alan, you are so wrong about—”

“Just go home,” he said again.

“No,” she said. “No, I’m going to wait for you.”

“Don’t,” he said. He glanced up at her just before the nurse pushed him out the door. “And don’t call me Alan.”

FRISCO RODE IN the wheelchair back to the E.R. lobby with his eyes closed. His X-rays had taken a few aeons longer than forever, and he had to believe Mia had given up on him and gone home.

It was nearly eight o’clock at night. He was still supposed to meet with the doctor to talk about what his X-rays had shown. But he’d seen the film and already knew what the doctor was going to say. His knee wasn’t broken. It was bruised and inflamed. There may have been ligament damage, but it was hard to tell—his injury and all of his subsequent surgeries had left things looking pretty severely scrambled.

The doctor was going to recommend shipping him over to the VA hospital for further consultation and possible treatment.

But that was going to have to wait. He had Natasha at home to take care of, and some lunatic named Dwayne to deal with.

“Where are you taking him?” It was Mia’s musical voice. She was still here, waiting for him, just as she’d said. Frisco didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. He kept his eyes closed, and tried not to care too much either way.