That had meant something, dammit!
And if they weren’t delusional fantasies, he was sure Mike had visited him over the past couple of days he’d been stuck in the bed, puking and groaning. One particular visit—fantasy?—was quite clear in his memory. Mike had looked well and truly trashed, like he’d been on a three-day bender, and had spent long moments begging for forgiveness.
Weird.
“Will this keep me from flying again?” Not that stalking a guy’s job was Liam’s preferred method of courtship, but sometimes a guy had to go what a guy had to do. At the very least, press for some honest communication between them.
The doctor hesitated, which was Liam’s only warning he wasn’t going to like the answer.
“You’ve been reassigned to the Armored Fighting Vehicle division. Specifically, an exploratory team of modified tanks.”
Pain filled his soul like the explosion of a grenade, fast, hot, and devastating. His breath froze in his chest. His mouth dried, alerting him to the fact his lips had parted on a gasp.
“No…”
The protest sounded like the wounded whine of a puppy.
Doctor David made an aborted reach for his arm. Compassion lined his face.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “The orders have already been signed.”
“No…” That wounded sound slipped from him again.
Rejected! Again! The story of his life. “I can do this.”
“Please calm yourself.”
“Mike. Where’s Mike? Let me talk to him. He’ll help. I can do this,” he repeated. He could, dammit. “It was just the newness of—”
Something caught his attention. Regret radiated from the doctor, quickly stifled. An image of a closed window flickered through his mind, and he knew. Liam sent up a plea to God, who never listened to him anyway, but he’d never stopped asking.
Please, no…
David flinched, a movement so tiny Liam barely saw it. In fact, he really only felt it.
The doctor knew what Liam guessed, but he needed to hear it.
“Tell me,” he croaked. When Doctor David hesitated, he pushed, an act of instinct, pain, and need. “God, please say it.”
If it could be said that a man visibly struggled with himself, the doctor was an example of that very thing. Fine tremors shook his body. Grief filled his expression. A gleam of tears shone in his eyes. Finally, he said it.
“Mike initiated the transfer.”
He’d been right. All the messages were there. The window, Mike’s tortured visitation while he’d been in the hospital bed. All of it meant exactly what he’d feared. Mike didn’t want what Liam had to give.
The shock of the rejection slashed through him like a knife’s blade and cut into his heart. The emotional bloodletting filled his soul. A steam-like pressure built between his ears. His heart… Oh, God, this can’t be happening.
Self-control shattered.
“Where is he?” Liam roared.
CHAPTER 11
“Mr. Sinclair? Please control yourself.”
Doctor David looked surprised. Liam didn’t give a shit.
“The fuck I will,” he bellowed.
“You must,” said the doctor. One edge of his mouth twitched with either a stifled grin or the jump of his jaw muscle.
“The hell I must.” Liam made sure he matched his previous volume. “The only thing I need to do is breathe.”
He seized the edge of the blanket and yanked it aside. He twisted in place and dropped his feet over the edge. Cool, canned atmosphere wafted across his things and crotch. Fuck, he was naked!
“But you will.” No mistake. The doctor was smiling. “That is, unless it is your intent to deliver your problem into the minds of everyone on this base.”
The comment froze him in place. Whatever shock he’d felt about discovering his nakedness evaporated like a chunk of ice on a summer sidewalk.
“Huh?” Wait. What did he just say?
“You have much strength, Mr. Sinclair.” The doctor leaned close and drew the blanket back over Liam’s legs and hips.
“Command level strength, if I don’t miss my guess, but I’m thinking you don’t want the entire cabal to know how you feel.”
Liam managed to unfreeze his fingers and tugged the blanket tighter against his body. Not that he was ashamed of his body, but because of the sudden wave of vulnerability that tossed him like a stick in a hurricane.
“You can…” His voice was a squeak. He swallowed hard and tried again. “You can feel what I feel?”
Christ, did everyone on base know Mike kicked me to the curb before we’d even got off first base?
Doctor David straightened and returned his hands to his pockets. “We all can, when you let us.”
Silence fell as Liam gaped. He couldn’t…he didn’t… Holy shit! The doctor winked. Mortified, Liam cringed. Maybe—just maybe—the doctor was wrong.
“Uh…” He coughed on a croak. “How do you, uh, know? What if you’re wrong?” Please, please, please be wrong.
David’s expression folded into lines of compassion. “Our cabal’s commander told me to tell you to put a sock in it.”
“Oh, God.” He blushed so hard it felt like every inch of his body was on fire.
“And if you take a moment and listen”—a strange emphasis was applied to the word— “I’m sure you’ll hear…nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“All the chatter? All the cross-talk? The bees and the birds you thought you heard? You silenced it all with your roar.”
“Oh, God,” Liam repeated.
Doctor David continued after a moment.
“I can feel the amusement and—I’ll admit it—the voyeuristic anticipation of more entertainment to come. So will you, if you listen.” Again, the odd emphasis placed upon the word. Liam dropped his face into his hands. “I’m in hell.”
“No, you’re in cabal E’ssennet.”
The doctor’s statement wasn’t the least bit reassuring. In fact, the doctor’s comment was right on. He couldn’t hear any buzzing or squawking, but he could “hear” anticipation and amusement.
“Ah, hell.” He groaned.
“You’re quite a surprise, Mr. Sinclair. No wonder you bonded so easily to our Mike.”
Mike!
