“We can get it.” Zach had connections. Connections he used to get information on her and to smooth the transfer of her care to Mike’s Place rather than Bethesda or any other Naval hospital.
“It’s not important.” She waved off the offer. “Are we driving or walking?”
“Walking.” Logan studied her with a frown. “We thought you’d enjoy being outside for a bit before the apartment.”
“Excellent.” She didn’t wait for either of them before getting her chair going. In the last week, she’d started fighting against anyone pushing her chair. It killed Zach to watch the strain on her face. He stepped forward, but Logan’s warning look stayed his hands. She needed her independence.
They fell into step on either side of her as she worked her way up the long hall toward the doors. The staff lined the hall. One by one they began applauding until the hallway echoed with their cheers. Jazz kept rolling, her attention fixed on the door, but there was the barest smile on her face. Even the patients in the rooms they passed added to the applause.
“Oorah, Gunny!”
Jazz paused to look sideways at the Marine sitting in his own wheelchair inside the room. His right leg was gone from the knee down. “Oorah, Marine. Don’t get lazy because I’m out of here.”
“Yes, sir.” The Marine saluted, a salute she returned. The moodiness evaporated from her expression, replaced by pride.
Sucking in a quiet breath, she got the chair going again. Out in the sunshine, she squinted. “I don’t suppose anyone brought sunglasses this time?”
Zach tugged his own out of his pocket and pressed them into her hands. She slid them into place and then touched the bandages on her head with a grimace.
“I should have my cover.”
“When the bandages come off.” Logan squeezed her shoulder.
“I can be Frankenstein’s Marine.” The humor was more bleak than black.
Zach’s frown deepened. Maybe they should take her over to see James right then rather than head back to the apartment. He cut a look at Logan, but his friend walked with his gaze straight. The stiffness in his gait reminded him of Logan’s own continued recovery.
“The apartment is two klicks.”
“Got it.” Jazz nodded, her expression grim, but determined. Two klicks could be covered in nine minutes at a decent pace.
Zach’s palms itched to take control of the wheelchair, but he fought the urge to reach for it. As though reading his mind, Logan gave him a nod. The hardass may have wanted her to do it, but it wasn’t as easy to watch her exertions, particularly when the path began a slight incline.
Thirty minutes later, they arrived at their second-floor apartment. When Jazz stared at the steps, Logan and Zach each took a side of the chair and hoisted it, carrying it up and into the landing.
“Your first appointment with James is in a little over an hour. Do you want to grab a shower?” Logan unlocked the door and she relinquished control of the wheels long enough to let them guide the wheelchair inside. Maybe they should have requested a ground floor place. But he and Logan both liked the extension that put them on the corner with no one living below.
“Would love one, but I can’t get the bandages wet.” She motioned to the white linen wrapped tightly around her head.
“That’s why God invented the PX and shower caps.” He’d already cleaned the store out so they had plenty for cover along with feminine products and three different kinds of soap. He’d bought shampoo, too, but Logan grabbed it out of the bag and hid it in the kitchen.
Her expression froze. “Seriously?”
Logan picked up her bag from by the door where they’d delivered it earlier. Clean uniforms, workout gear, and some casual items her mom delivered to the hospital. “Yep. You can’t stand, we know that. But one of us can take a shower with you and keep you on your feet. We have to go slow, no more than ten minutes. But that’s long enough to shower. Sponge baths suck.”
“Then, hell yes, I want to shower.” For the first time that day, she sounded like herself.
Zach grinned. He’d fought against the idea, but Logan was right. A shower was a luxury people forgot until they weren’t allowed to take one. Long patrols were like that—spot washes and dry shampoo.
“Who…?” She lifted her gaze, meeting each of theirs for the first time since they arrived at the apartment.
“Zach won that coin toss. I’m getting the grub ready. Shower, some food, and then we’ll head over to see James.” Logan’s easy tone carried no hint of jealousy or envy. Zach wasn’t sure he would have felt the same way. On the other hand, knowing the way Logan liked to push, they’d probably end up having sex in the shower. His cock stirred at the idea, and he tamped down the urge. He’d kept that need under rigid control. She needed his support, his care, and his attention—not his lust.