All Her Men (The Queen's Men Book 1) (10 page)

Chapter 23

Amelia frowned as she glanced upon the entrance to the Trident Missiles. Would Marcus Jones be waiting somewhere inside for her? It was highly unlikely that he would have given up. She was the one that had gotten away. He would be coming for her. It was just a matter of when.

The Tridents were extremely important to both Scotland and England. One country used them for economics. The other used them for defense. Scotland had debated getting rid of the missiles once the country was free; however, the contract settled with England provided enough money to finance the country’s social programs for ten years. That was a big help. Scotland was still struggling with being re-added to the European Union. Several countries wanted it excluded. The Tridents were helping with that process. Once re-added to the European Union, there would be other financial opportunities that they could seek.

For now, the Tridents were their biggest asset. The oil fields were the second biggest. Although, no one really knew how much oil was there. England had kept a closed mouth on that. That was actually on the to-do list. To see how much oil there was. That could make or break the country. If there wasn’t much left, then riots might occur. The economy would be in chaos if they didn’t have something they could use as currency. However, if there was lots, then other countries would start a war for it.

Was that what this was about? Or was there something she was missing… Something even more nefarious. Something even more deadly.

The loud crack hurt her ears. What was that? Seconds later, pain blossomed in her side. Lightning. It felt as if lightning had ripped through her with its jagged edges tearing through her skin, ripping her to pieces. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. The pain rendering her mute. She felt herself being thrown to the ground and covered by another human being. The pain was unlike anything she had ever felt. Attempts to shout at the person who was causing her more pain refused to pass her lips either. Snippets of hushed conversations graced her ears.

“Sniper on the west end.”

“Did ye get the wanker?”

“He only fired one shot. The nest is empty.”

“Is Amelia safe?”

The body covering her moved and she moaned. Hands flew to her side.

“Negative. Bullet, left side, just above the pelvis. Through and through. Looks like it was only a fragment of the bullet, not the actual round.”

“He missed?”

“Aye, he was spooked. Get Amelia to St. Mary’s. Tis not far.”

Chapter 24

“My Queen, I know ye said ye wish to never speak of Jacob again…”

“It doesn’t hurt so much now. He was very brave. I loved him… Did you know?”

“Aye, we ken. Lass, Jacob…”

“Yes, Will?”

“Jacob lived.”

Time stopped. Her stomach bottomed out and her legs shook, as if they were giving way. She doubled over, placing her hands on her knees in an attempt to keep her standing. Her vision swam and her heart beat rapidly within her chest.

Was it true? Had he lived and she had not been told? Or was it a cruel joke? A cruel, evil joke… after everything they had survived? “Will, why would you do this to me?”

He grabbed her upper arm. “’Tis no joke. Jacob was severely injured. He survives here in Saint Mary’s.”

“Seriously? He lives?”

“Aye, Jacob lives. Unfortunately, his injures have taken much from him. He remembers little from the accident… or before it. He will nae remember ye.”

Jacob was alive!

But he didn’t remember her? Her heart ached. If was as if he had died all over again. Come back from the dead and died once more. Love was lost once again. He was here though. Probably mere rooms away from where the doctor had placed the last stitch in her side from the bullet. “Will, please take me to him. Please? I have to see him. I have to know he’s alive.”

“Aye.”

Amelia steeled herself as Will came to a stop outside of the hospital room. Jacob was alive, and he was on the other side. She simply had to walk thru the door and greet him. Her stomach clenched. Greet him as if they had never met. Because according to him, they never had.

“Will, why would you guys lie to me? I trusted you all and you lied.” Her voice was even and firm, void of the emotion swirling inside of her. She felt Will’s hand upon her shoulder.

“We had to make a choice. ’Tis a puir choice, but one that was necessary.”

“No. It was one you felt was necessary because you thought I couldn’t handle this.”

“Nae, we ken ye could handle it. We ken Jacob would nae want ye too.”

“How severe are his injuries?”

“He may never battle again.”

Her heart stopped and emotion clogged her throat. She whispered, “Please explain.”

“His spine ‘twas injured. The surgeons have done their best, but he has no will to walk again. Jacob must find the will or the damage shall be permanent.”

“Will, what can I do?”

“He loved ye once. The love still has a place within his heart. Bring it to light. He may find strength in it. Fer now, he is angry. Verra angry.”

She understood what she had to do. She had to give him the strength to walk again. Even if he never remembered that she loved him or that he loved her, she could do this for him.

“Arrange my schedule, so that once this is over, every day I can spend at least an hour with him. Never tell him who I am. He may never remember me, but I will be there for him. In the meantime I will visit him as much as possible, but it must be hidden. Don’t tell anyone who he is to me.”

“He is here under a false name. The nurses and doctors know him for who he is. They dinnae use his name except with him. Who shall he believe ye to be?”

“A volunteer, someone to sit with him. If it’s all I can have with him, I will gladly take it. I would rather have an hour a day with him never knowing me again, than to have buried him in the tunnels. Never to see him again.”

“Lass, ken ye put both his and yer life in danger, coming here.”

“I am simply visiting patients, grateful that my injuries were not as bad as they could have been, should anyone ask. I will visit as many in the hospital as I can, to take the focus off him.”

“Aye.”

As Will turned from her, the door seemed to loom in front of her. It seemed to personify all of her fears. As if it was the most dangerous thing she had ever faced, laced with barbed wire and explosives. She straightened herself. It would not do to let Jacob see her afraid, even if he did not remember what they had. Even if he did not remember who she was. He had given her the strength she needed to be queen. She would draw upon that. She had to.

Opening the door, she first noticed that the room was cold and dark. She opened it further. There was a small light from the wall, above the bed. As her eyes adjusted a gasp escaped from her. Jacob lay on his side. His gown was open in the back and parted, the wounds from surgery on his spine visible to her. They served as a slap to the face. Angry reminders of what he had been willing to give for her. If only she had known he was alive. She would have risked it all to be with him.

A rough voice interrupted her inspection. “I told ye already. Get out! Leave me be!”

The hatred in the voice made her jump. Was this truly Jacob? The man that had held her so gently, teased her and kissed her under the Scottish castle as they sparred?

“Are ye deaf? I said leave!”

She spied the chair on the other side of the bed. It faced him. Perfect. The only way to fight anger was with anger. If he refused to walk then he couldn’t force her to leave. She walked around the bed and sat in the uncomfortable chair. Meeting his fiery eyes she leaned forward. “Make me,” she dared.

Chapter 25

“We can talk or you can just stare while I talk, but I’m not leaving for at least an hour. So get used to it.” She would stay for as long as they would let her, despite the ache in her side. Being shot was hell on being angry.

“Lass, ye should leave. I know ye not.”

Holding up her arm for him to see the arm band she grinned. “I’m a patient here too.”

“Oh dear God, yer a loon.”

Upon his eyes going wide, she fought not to laugh. He thought she’d escaped from the mental health wards. “No. I got shot. Just finished getting stitches.” His eyes gave her a quick glance over, probably assessing her health. Training was never forgotten, even if you couldn’t remember yourself. “Never been shot before. The bastard got me in my side. Good thing is that it was just a fragment from the bullet. Not the bullet itself. Got lucky there. Anyway, I figured I’d come by an introduce myself. My name is Amelia.”

Hope was quickly doused, as no recognition flared to life in his eyes. Jacob truly did not know her. Did not remember the times they shared. He gave his life for her. Even if he was still alive, he had lost his life. Every memory gone. Vanished, and nowhere to be found. If he knew it was because of her, would he hate her?

“Why would ye be botherin’ me?”

“You know, when one normally introduces oneself, it’s customary for the other person to respond with their name.”

His eyes crinkled around the edges. “They call me Jacob.”

“Jacob. Why that’s a lovely name. I knew a man named Jacob once. He was a good man. Truly a good man.”

“Then go find him.” Jacob’s eyes closed tightly. Was he in pain?

“Would love to, but my Jacob gave his life for me.” She leaned back in the chair, kicked her shoes off, and propped her feet up on his bed. Resting one ankle over the top of the other she smiled at him. The bruises from the bombing had turned an ugly shade of purple, with a tinge of yellow and green. His eyes caught it, but he said nothing. Sighing deeply, she said,  “That’s a story for another day though. So what happened to you to make you such a sour puss?”

A glare reflected back at her. “Lass, yer tryin’ my patience.”

“If you think I’m a pain in the ass now then you should see me when I’m feeling sassy.” Waiting for him to answer required the patience of a saint. Not one in training either. No, this needed the patience of a full fledged saint. Maybe even one with the ability to wait forever. She could wait though. Will stood outside, waiting for her. He would let her stay for as long as she could today. Then she would be back tomorrow. Eventually Jacob would remember her and hate her. Or he would learn to walk, then he would walk away from her. She would let him go. It was for the best.

A knock at the door signaled that it was time. If only there was more time. “Well, dear Jacob, it seems it’s time for me to leave. I think I’ll come back and see you again tomorrow.”

“Dinnae bother. I will nae speak to ye,” he sneered.

“Ah, but you will. A parting question for you though.” Her question was sure to anger him, but if that was what it took… She pulled her legs off the bed. Feeling the stitches pull in her side. Slowly she slid on her shoes. “If you walked out that door what would be waiting for you?”

“How would I know? I cannae remember a thing.”

“Your body remembers, even if you don’t. If you could walk, your body might take you to where you need to go. It might show you what your mind can’t remember.”

His mouth closed tightly and his eyes narrowed. She had only seen his temper once, but it was not an experience that she ever wanted to repeat. “I’m leaving. See you tomorrow.” As quickly as she could she exited the room. As the door closed behind her she heard something heavy slam against it.

Will stood beside her. A smile graced his face. “Lass, ye might be just what he needs.”

“You think it’ll get him to try to walk?”

“Only time will tell.”

Her throat clogged with emotion. Clearing it, she whispered, “Did they find the shooter?”

“No, lass. Yer friend found a connection though. One that will anger ye.”

Nodding she turned from the door.

‘
Deal with one thing at a time or the world will fall upon your shoulders.
’
Her father had been a very smart man, and he had left her with that advice. It was his saying, his motto. Before his return to Scotland he had followed it up with, ‘The world will break you if you let it. Never let it. Never let anyone see you cry. Anger can focus you, but tears will break you.
’
It was time for her to focus. If what they had found angered her, then she would release that anger upon the world.

Chapter 26

As the door closed, Jacob released the vase he had picked up. He watched it sail towards the door. He had told Will not to bring her here. He made it very clear. Amelia needed to be safe. He needed to be able to protect her, but he could not do that by her side.

He pushed back the covers and began working. It would be at least an hour before the nurses came back. That meant he had an hour to try to get his strength back. Looking towards his toes he grimaced. “Small movements first.” The orphanage had taught him a lot, Amelia’s father had taught him more. One had taught him that life was harsh. The other had taught him that he could survive anything.

He owed it to her father to protect her. If she found out though… She would hate him. There would be no way to convince her that what he felt was true. That his heart ached for her. That his arms were made to surround her and his soul was designed for her and her alone.

The thought of her hatred and rage was a hard pill to swallow. It was a small price to pay to keep her alive. Will knew that he was trying to stay away from her to save her. Now she was even more vulnerable. Her snarky attitude was cute though. However, if he couldn’t move, then he couldn’t protect her. She needed protection too. Jacob left Will to it, but… “Bastard got ‘er shot.”

His heart had stopped at her casual announcement that she was there because she had been shot. Shot! Of all things. Will was dead. Didn’t matter if they were “brothers” or not. He was dead. A painful death, it would be too. Maybe with a dull spoon. Dull spoons were great for inducing excruciating pain. Digging around, slowly cutting thru the flesh… Hours and hours of slow torture. It would be perfect!

First though… the toes. Move the toes.

Thirty minutes later his right foot moved up and down. Slowly. Very slowly. The nerves had been compressed for so long before he had been found. They were weak. It would take time to get up from the bed, but no one could know.

Amelia. It was all for her. It had been since her father picked him up at the orphanage, demanding his wallet back because it held a picture of his little girl that lived in America. Fifteen years had passed, but that moment was forever etched in his mind. At that moment he developed a crush on the little girl in the picture. Determined that he loved her; however, upon meeting her, and almost accidentally killing her, that boyhood crush tripped into love. Her beauty was inside and out. Her strength radiated from within, brighter than any star or sun. Amelia was the most beautiful woman he knew. She was also the strongest. He would do whatever was necessary to protect her.

Even if it meant he had to lie to her. Even if it meant he had to scream at her. Even if it meant he had to hurt her.

Maybe when she was safe, she would forgive him.

“That ‘tis why dreams are free. Tons in the bucket, but none to come true.” Yes, it was a dream to hope that she would forgive him. He would keep her safe though.