Her Loyal Seal(8)

Her hands changed to claws, belying her words. Clint ducked, not wanting to manhandle her.

“Baby, can you hear me. It’s me Clint. You have to wake up.”

“Watch me strip for you.” She tried for his face again with her nails, and then Darius reached from behind and as gently as he could grasped her forearms.

“No….” she wailed. She coughed and coughed and coughed. Until it turned into one gasping wheeze. She struggled so hard often times pushing her injured back against Darius’ chest and both men did what they could to position her so it wouldn’t happen. All the time, Clint spoke to her in Spanish, urgently trying to get her to come back to the present.

“Dare, please give her something for the pain. Give her something to go to sleep.”

“You’ll have to hold her down, I need her to be still.”

Clint’s breath hitched. He forced his fists to unclench so he could cup her face in his hands, resting his forehead against hers. “Lydia, baby, it’s me Clint. You’re safe. The men who hurt you are dead. You’re having a nightmare. You’re sick and you need to wake up.” Over and over he whispered in Spanish. Finally he thought to start speaking in English, and that was what seemed to do the trick.

“Clint?” It was a mere whisper. She turned her head and coughed.

“It’s me.” Darius held up the canteen. “You need to drink some water.”

“Not thirsty.”

“Doesn’t matter. You have to drink.” He brought the canteen to her lips, and she took a couple of sips. “More, you have to drink more.” She did.

Darius prepped a syringe.

“Dare is going to give you a shot.”

“Okay.” That she acquiesced so easily told them both how bad her pain was. Darius administered it. She hissed out a sigh.

“Good girl.”

“I’m cold, but I’m hot too.”

“It’s the fever,” Darius said. “I’m going to go snag another survival blanket from one of the guys.”

“Don’t go out into the rain. It’s too much of a bother.” They both looked at one another over her head. Darius left the makeshift tent. Clint gathered her closer, careful not to touch her back. It was amazing how much heat was coming off her body. Her beautiful brown eyes were so glassy, it scared him to death.

He could feel the heat radiating from her body.

She started to cough.

“Oh good.” Darius ducked his head under the tarp. “Coughing is good. It’s when you’re not coughing that I worry. Lydia, you’re going to need to sleep sitting up tonight.” He put the extra blanket on top of her, and they both helped her into a sitting position against Clint’s backpack.

The coughing seemed to have worn her out. She opened her mouth to say something and then she was asleep.

“Is that normal?” Clint asked.

“She’s really sick. I’m surprised how well she’s doing.”

“This is doing well?” Clint asked incredulously.

“Yes. We’ll see how she is in the morning. Hopefully the antibiotics help. I’m encouraged she spoke coherently tonight. She might…”

Clint didn’t ask any more questions. It was clear where Darius was going with that, and he just didn’t want to face it. He laid his head next to Lydia, and went into the light combat sleep that allowed him to listen to her breathing as he rested. He was damned if she would drift away on his watch.



****



“Clint, you need to rest. You’re stumbling.” He barely heard her, and it wasn’t because of the rain which was finally letting up. It was because her voice was little more than a whisper.

“I’m fine. I’m a SEAL. This is what we do.”

“Even in Mexico, we’ve heard of Navy SEALs. You eat nails for breakfast, and have a beautiful girl in every city.” Her weak laughter tickled his ear.

She was awake because he just made her drink some water. No matter how much he coaxed she refused part of a protein bar, finally she told him she would just throw it up. Since she gagged drinking the water he had to agree with her assessment.

“Marines are the ones with beautiful girls in every city. SEALs are more discerning, we want the right girl.”

Again, she laughed. “I might not have brothers, but I went to school with enough boys to know that’s not true.”

He felt her head fall against the crook of his neck, a sign she would soon be asleep.

“Lydia, maybe not every SEAL is looking for the right girl, but I know I am. I’m looking for a brave girl, a girl who believes in family, and a girl who has honor.”

“She sounds nice. I hope you find her.” Lydia’s voice trailed off into sleep.