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"Fine."
Chapter 9 Hot Stick of Beef
Wren
He glanced at the towel and left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Carefully, I lowered my sleep pants. That didn't hurt too badly. As I slowly lifted my blood-stained shirt over my head, tiny shards of glass scraped my skin before they tinked on the floor.
Alright, so I did need Magnum to help me with this. He didn't seem like he was going to take me to the hospital or wait for a doctor. He wanted it done now, and he wanted to do it himself.
Looking in the mirror, I cringed at my embarrassingly wide bra straps and simple white cotton underwear. I didn't expect anyone to ever see them, and now Magnum Beaumont, commando for hire, was waiting for me on the other side of the door. He'd probably seen some fancy lingerie in his extensive life experience.
Well, I wasn't going out there with my bra showing, so I had to remove it. I hid it under my clothes and grabbed the towel. It scratched against my bare chest as I wrapped it around me. This was so awkward, but Mag seemed very methodical about his first-aid. Plus, we were family according to him, so it wasn't sexual. I mean, he was very sexy, but it wasn't sexual between us. Right?
When I opened the door, he was standing there shirtless as he wiped the dust and debris from his neck. Holy smokes, the man was flawless from head to toe. Beautiful dark brown skin with pale gray and black tattoos etched on his massivechest and strong arms, rows and rows of stone-like abs, and thick muscles at his hips that disappeared into his low-slung pants. His tattoos and scars were on full display. I'd seen some of them before, but it was still shocking to see him without his shirt. For the first time, it was easy to imagine him as a Navy SEAL, brave and rugged, running toward danger as he'd done tonight.
He'd known someone had broken through the door, and he'd sprinted toward it as fast as he could without any fear or hesitation.
Mag looked up and caught me gawking at him from the doorway of the bathroom. The corner of his mouth turned up, and his eyes sparkled. He knew the effect he had on women and he liked it. No fair taking advantage of me when I was out of my element going through some serious things.
"There's glass on the floor in the bathroom."
"I'll clean it up," he answered softly.
"Okay."
"Lie down on the bed. I'll check your back." His voice was quiet and deep.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and walked to the bed. I carefully climbed up and lay face-down on the black chemise bedspread. I held the top of the towel in a deathgrip as he approached me. He bent a knee and placed his first-aid bag on the floor next to him, his gaze going straight to the cuts on my arm. I couldn't hold back my wince from the burn as he brushed out the glass and cleaned it with the hydrogen peroxide.
"The shock is wearing off and you're starting to feel it." The tenor of his voice was intoxicating. Calm and serious, rumbling through the quiet room.
"So you've been through an explosion before?" I asked him to break the intimate silence between us.
He chuckled softly. "A few. I'm one lucky fucker to even be alive."
"Have you ever seen anyone die in an explosion?" That vision tonight felt so real. I truly thought Magnum had died and fallen to the ground. Luckily, it was just my brain playing tricks on me.
His hands stopped moving, and he tilted his head as he shifted his focus to my face. "I don't talk about it. Brings up a lot of old shit."
"Maybe telling me will help."
He'd completely removed his hands from my skin, and his voice softened like he was reaching deep for a memory. "When I first joined the Navy, I was just sixteen years old. I lied about my age to enlist."
My chest fluttered with a warm, pleasant feeling, surprised that he was sharing. "You did?" I didn't even know you could do that. He was just a teenager.
"Yep, and they sent me to Afghanistan straight out of RTC and A-school, basically a year of training. I got assigned to a route clearance unit. We were stopped at a checkpoint run by locals who were supposedly friendly. I didn't trust them, but I couldn't say anything as a grunt. I was in the second tank. My commander was in the lead."
"Okay. I have a mental picture of it."
"The third tank in the convoy exploded."
I gasped and my heart sank. "Oh no." I peered up at him over my shoulder.
"Then the first." His face was solemn, and he was shaking his head, looking down. "It was bad. That's why I can say this one was small when you've seen the size and damage from something like that. There were pieces... We lost the leaders of our team in that explosion. All of a sudden, I was the highest in command of that unit, and I had to supervise the clean up and exfil. Next day we were back at it with me as commander at seventeen years old."
"That's crazy." It was a sad topic, but I really liked the way Magnum was speaking conversationally to me.
"I was angry after that. Got in a lot of fights. Almost got kicked out of the Navy. But then I decided to make it up to them. Everything I did was for them. Always watching, learning from those who'd come before me, trying to be worthy of my trident. Because I'd survived, it was on me to make their deaths mean something."
