24.
Annette was dense.
She was not oblivious or ignorant, she may have been ignoring me, but I thought she was just dense, like her brother. She followed me around the apartment while I went from task to task.
While packed up some boxes of pottery.
While I assembled my loom and spinning wheel.
She even watched me mix up my paints! All while she was silent and watched me with fascination. As if she were in Sea World and I was Shamu.
It was absurd.
She was there when Reese arrived and got the information on the lawyer.
She was there about an hour later when Holly stormed through. Careful not to touch anything, afraid her designer suit would be permanently damaged if it touched anything in the apartment I suppose. She dropped off a manila folder and a box full of packing supplies and gallery business cards.
During the whole time I was trying to plot a way to shoo Annette off without hurting her feelings. How did one do such a thing? I would have to send her on a scavenger hunt of some sort.
I had just closed and locked the door behind Holly, I didn't need any more people in the apartment. The lock had just slid into place, I had just checked my watch, and the phone rang.
More then just a little annoyed I groaned and collapsed against the door. When had I become so popular?
I thought about answering it and shouldn't have. Annette answered it for me. I turned my head and stared at her. She was amazing. No shame at all. It must have been a southern thing, Hoot was the same way.
She was just chatting away on the phone, taking a couple notes on a piece of paper by the phone.
It definitely had to be a southern thing.
When she turned the phone off she looked to me, calm as anything she told me, "We gotta go. Gordon is at the base hospital."
The Base Hospital…
Annette drove me.
She did not give me a choice and she didn't know why he was there. It was apparently a big mystery. But she had told me his Captain didn't sound too concerned. Her exact wordage, "Apparently, he ain't dead, he just got his lil ass in trouble."
Gordon in trouble.
Gordon in trouble was better then Gordon killed in a training accident. I remembered the night I learned he used live ammunition in his training and him telling me, Don't worry, it's perfectly safe. Don't worry. Oh yeah right.
We arrived at the hospital and she parked the jeep at an angle and I didn't care.
I hopped out and walked into the hospital as quickly as I could. I walked into the electric doors and immediately to the receptionist. An old woman who had obviously seen better days and they were a long time ago. She looked up at me as if I were the scourge of the Earth for dare interrupting her from her paperwork.
"What," was the greeting I got.
I hunched over the high desk, "My husband came in here, and I was called to come pick him up. I don't know what room he's in."
The woman snorted.
She looked at some paperwork by her elbow, "What's his name?"
"Sergeant Gary I. Gordon."
The woman looked up at me and her eyes narrowed. I had obviously just ruined her entire week. She thrust her finger toward the hall, "He's in observation. Room three."
She didn't have to look. She didn't have to call anyone. Gordon must have done something naughty.
It was then Annette came bouncing in. She gave the woman a beaming smile, "Hi Ruth. Have you given up your quitting smoking yet?"
Ruth narrowed her eyes.
That was an obvious no, maybe even a hell no.
I looked to Annette, "I'll be right back. I'm going to go get Gordon."
At that I was off.
I strolled down the hall, following the signs to observation. I could not help but notice there were telltale signs of a fight. Blood splatter on the wall. A few dents in the drywall. Broken glass on the floor.
Someone had gotten the hell beaten out of them.
I found Observation and pushed open the swinging door. To my great relief the doors were numbered.
To my horror there was a guard posted outside room three. I dug out my military id and told him, "I'm here to pick up my husband."
He eyed it.
Then he eyed me.
Finally he held the card out to me. I held my hand out, palm up, and let him drop it in my hand, then I shoved it in my jeans. The guard eyed me as he opened the door and I walked in.
I didn't waste any time needless to say.
The door closed behind me and I saw Gordon, seated upon the stretcher, not a happy man, with his wrist handcuffed to the bed.
What did he do?
He looked at me with bruised and cut knuckles. All I could think to say came out, "You redecorated the hospital for what reason?"
With a groan he looked heavenwards.
I made my way to the stretcher and climbed up next to him. Stretchers were always so hard. They were horrible to sleep on. I tried to make myself comfortable and it didn't work.
I picked up his hand and examined his knuckle. There were more then just one cut. I entwined our fingers and kissed the back of his hand.
Finally he looked at me.
He gave my hand a gentle squeeze, "I lost my temper."
I had seen that in the hall.
"Whom did you loose it against, may I ask?"
He began to tug on the handcuff. It made a clinging noise against the metal bar of the stretcher. "Yoran. The Ranger who was in our apartment this morning."
This got my attention.
Especially since he had not been mad earlier, or even mad at the man when it occurred.
I looked Gordon over. I really looked him over. Unless he was really bruised beneath the camos, I was willing to bet he was the winner of that particular fight.
"Why?"
Gordon shook his head.
Not in response to my question. No, he shook his head, ashamed, pissed off, he was still wound up. His answer was, "I lost control. He shoved me and I just…snapped."
He was angry with himself. I didn't have to be a mind reader to know. He prided himself on self-control. He prided himself on being different in every possible way from his father and it was hard. I could see it in his eyes. He was a dead match to one of the men he hated more then anything in the world. He had his father's beautiful blue eyes, golden hair, stunning bone structure, and his father's quick temper.
He just kept it under control far better then his father had ever even considered.