The Darkest Hour(16)

She could feel the needle sinking into her flesh, welcomed it, wanted the horrible ache to go away.

Ethan's hand closed warmly over hers. "I'll be right back."

He eased from the bed and left the room after a quick look back at  Rachel. Whatever Maren had given her was wearing off, and she was  becoming agitated again.

He stuck his head in the doorway of Cole's room to see him passed out  cold. From there he passed Steele's room, only to find it empty, not  that it surprised him. He nearly bumped into Maren as she came out of  Dolphin's room.

"Is there a place we can get some food?" Ethan asked. "Rachel's hungry."

"That's good. She needs to eat. But take it easy. Don't give her too  much too quickly. I have a small kitchen in the back where we can nuke  some soup."

She turned, and Ethan followed her past the shower area to a kitchenette  that had a two-burner stove, a small fridge and a microwave.

"All the comforts of home," she said ruefully.

"You don't live here, do you?"

"Yes and no. When I'm busy or have patients I crash in the back room  here, but no, I have a cottage a half a mile from the clinic. Not much,  but it's dry and keeps the rain out."

"Where is everyone?" he asked as he watched her take a bowl out of the refrigerator.

"I sent them down to the cottage. They can crash, eat and generally stay  out of my hair there. Sam said to tell you he'd be back in a few. Why  don't you go back to Rachel? I'll heat this up and bring it down in a  few minutes."

"Thanks. I appreciate it, Maren."

She smiled and made a shooing motion with her hand. Ethan turned and  walked back down the hall. He was nearly to Rachel's door when he heard a  crash.

He broke into a run and burst through the door to see Rachel standing by  her bed, the IV pole knocked over. She yanked frantically at the line  at her wrist, and before he could react, she pulled the line free of the  catheter. Blood spilled from the catheter still inserted into her arm  onto the floor and her gown.

She ignored it, rubbing and hitting frantically at her arms, her chest  and her legs. Blood flew in all directions as she batted at invisible  objects.

He vaulted over the bed and grabbed her to him. He reached for her wrist  to try to stop the flow of blood, but she fought relentlessly. She  wasn't even aware of his presence.

"Rachel! Stop. Baby, stop!"

"Get them off!" she cried. "God, get them off me!"

He held her tightly, subduing her flailing arms and all the while trying  to get his hand over the IV lock to stop the blood. Finally he held  her, helpless in his arms, her body locked to his, but still she  twitched and cried out in anguish.

"Maren!" he yelled. "I need you in here!"

Rachel screamed again, a high-pitched sound of terror. She arched her body, bowing against him with surprising strength.

"Rachel, honey, I've got you. You're okay, I swear."

"They're all over me," she wailed. "Get them off!"                       
       
           



       

"Get what off? There's nothing there."

Maren burst into the room, her lab coat flying in her wake. She took one look and went into action.

"On the bed," she ordered. "I need to get that IV hooked back up."

Ethan hauled her onto the bed and held her down as she kicked and bucked  endlessly. Her eyes were wild with fear, the pupils fixed and dilated.  Sweat bathed her face and hair, and her cheeks were chalky white.

"Hallucination," Maren said grimly. She deftly reattached the IV and  then yanked a bottle of medication out of her pocket. With sure hands,  she filled a syringe and then bent to inject it into the port.

When she was done, she put her hand over Rachel's forehead and gently  wiped away the sweat and tangled hair. "Listen to me, Rachel. It's not  real. Whatever you're seeing, it's not real. Look at me."

Rachel's wild eyes focused on Maren, her mouth open in a silent scream.

"That's it. Now listen to me. You're safe. It's a hallucination. Ethan's  here. I'm here. We're not going to let anything happen to you. You'll  feel better in a minute, I promise."

Rachel crumbled, her eyes filling with tears. Harsh, ragged sobs came  deep from her chest and shook her entire body as they spilled from her  lips. How she'd held it together this long, Ethan didn't know.

As soon as Maren backed off, he gathered Rachel in his arms, holding her  tight as she cried. He stroked her hair, her back, every part of her  body he could touch.

Something inside of him broke. He wanted to hit a wall. He wanted to cry with her. For her. For all she'd endured.

What had those bastards done to her? She could remember almost nothing  and was suffering endlessly in withdrawal. What if the drugs had  permanently destroyed her mind?

He shook his head. No, he wouldn't accept that his Rachel was gone.  She'd come back to him. She had to. Only he had to make sure that when  she did, when she remembered the past, he managed to convince her that  he'd been wrong. He loved her. Asking for a divorce had been the worst  mistake of his life, and something he'd regret to his dying day.

He shut his eyes and held on, his body shaking almost as badly as hers.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so sorry I let you down."

For several long minutes he knelt on the bed, his arms wrapped around  her until finally he realized that she'd quieted. As he pulled away, her  head lolled to the side. Carefully he cupped her face and then lowered  her back to the pillow. Her eyelashes fluttered delicately against her  cheeks as she settled into oblivion.

"Most of the blood is on the floor and her clothes," Maren said in a low  voice. "We can change the sheets later. Let her rest. I'll clean up  what's on the floor, and when she comes around again, I'll get her a  fresh set of clothes."

"Can I stay with her?" he asked, though he had no intention of leaving her, even for a minute.

"Of course. I'll be out of your way in just a second. I left the soup on  the table, but she'll probably be out for a few hours. When she wakes,  be sure she eats. I'll be staying in my office tonight to monitor Cole  and Dolphin. Steele told me to fuck off and he left," she added with an  amused glitter to her eyes.

"Don't take it personally. He likes everyone pretty much the same."

Maren shrugged. "I don't care if he likes me. I did what I could. The rest is up to him."

Five minutes later, Maren finished mopping the spilled blood and then  she quietly left the room, leaving Ethan alone with Rachel.

Ethan relaxed on the pillow as much as the awkward position would allow.  He'd never been so bone weary in his life, nor had he ever felt so  goddamn helpless. Or angry.

He wanted to be able to fix what was wrong, but he couldn't. All he  could do was stand by while Rachel tried to put the tattered pieces of  herself back together.

"I love you."

The words blew quietly across her forehead, ruffling a tendril of hair.

"This time I won't quit on us," he vowed.





CHAPTER 11



"HOLA," Rio said as he burst into Maren's cottage. His dark eyes swept  the interior where Sam and the others were sprawled haphazardly on the  floor and furniture.

Sam rose to greet his team leader, extending an arm. Rio grasped it and gave it a firm shake.

"How are Cole and Dolphin?" he asked. Steele was notably absent from Rio's concern.

"Dolphin has busted ribs, Cole took a bullet to the leg and Steele took a bullet in that last exchange."

"Christ. What a clusterfuck."                       
       
           



       

"You get the chopper? Where are your men?"

Rio grinned, his white teeth flashing. "They're with the chopper. I  stashed it a few miles away then doubled back on foot. Good way to learn  the terrain and find out what we're up against."

"Reconnecting with your people, amigo?" Steele drawled as he walked over to join Rio and Sam.

"Fuck you," Rio said. His gaze swept over Steele's bandaged and bound arm and he offered a mocking smile. "Hurt yourself?"

Sam shook his head. It was a running source of irritation between Rio  and Steele. Rio hated the gross generalization of lumping all people of  Latin heritage into the same pot. Rio was Brazilian and Sam didn't even  know his real name. He had always been called Rio, short for his home  city.

Steele smiled, but it was more of a grimace. His teeth clicked as he  stared eye to eye with the other team leader. "At least I was there and  not off on some pussy mission to Asia, which if I'm not mistaken is  where you should still be?"

"Just saving your ass. Ain't nothing new about that," Rio said easily.

Before things could escalate further, Sam stepped between them. "I'd like to speak to both of you outside."