Chapter 11

ANXIETY

The warehouse loomed large at  the end of the deserted street.  Darkness filled the corners and doorways; the one streetlight made little leeway against midnight.

Johner pulled the car slowly in to the curb, lights out.  He turned off the ignition and spoke softly,  "Let’s go, Connor.   They’re in there, and you know they won’t be happy to see us.  Remember, all we have to do is identify the merchandise; don’t be a hero.  Be careful, and watch your back."

"Johner, I’ve been doing this for ten years.  Don’t give me instructions!"

He grinned at her.  "Sorry.  I’m always nervous for you when we do this kind of thing.  Just trying to protect my interest; if anything happens to you, it happens to me too."

She leaned over the gearshift to kiss him lightly.  "I forgive your preaching.  I know why you do it, I worry about you too."

As they prepared to leave the car, both automatically checked their weapons and radios.  Johner frowned.  "I still think we should be wearing vests.  These fuckers are liable to be mad."

"Well, I’d be happy to have them, only they’re forty miles away at the shop.  It’ll be all right."

"Huh!  Famous last words."

********

It had gone very well, if a fire fight can be said to go well.  Shots had greeted their cautious entrance to the room; there was no question of negotiation, nothing to do but defend themselves.

Now there were two men down and not moving.  After a few minutes of complete silence, Johner leaned cautiously out from behind the packing case, whispering over his shoulder, "Maybe there weren’t three of them." But another shot boomed in the big empty space, and Johner spun around and went down without a sound.  Sarah returned fire automatically, and heard the scream that resulted, but her attention was only on him.

"Johner.  Johner?"  He didn’t answer. She crouched over him, unable to check on him until she was sure the shooting was over.  She scanned the big room for movement.  It was almost empty, only a few boxes and barrels scattered haphazardly, just visible in the gloom left by the one ceiling light.  From behind a pile of cartons the body of the man she had just shot sprawled, and the two other bodies hadn’t moved; she could see no sign of life.

"I think that was really the last one.  Johner?"  She looked down at last, unable to keep from checking on him any longer.  He was lying on his side; she couldn’t see where he was hit.  She rolled him onto his back. "Oh God, Johner!"  The wound was immediately evident; his chest was soaked with blood.

********
She rode with him in the ambulance, trying to stay out of the way of the paramedics, as they worked rapidly and efficiently over him.  One of them looked over at her, "It’s a good thing we were so close when we got the call.  He was bleeding to death."  She said nothing, digesting that information.  The man watched her face for a second, then said, "There’s a chance he’s going to be OK.  Don’t give up."

Sarah thanked him with a strained smile.  "Does he need blood right now?  We’re the same blood type."  Both men looked up with interest.  "Are you sure?  Absolutely positive?" "Yes, of course.  We’ve  given blood together, people always comment on it.  Our blood is exactly the same."

"I’m wondering about anything transmissible in your blood. Are you---sleeping with him?  If you are, he’s probably already got anything you’ve got."

"We live together.  I’m not aware of anything."

The men looked at each other.  "Direct transfusion?"  "I’ve never done it." "Neither have I, but this man is going to die without it; we gave most of our saline to Ed on that last call, and what we had is all gone."  "OK, let’s do it."  They asked her to sign a release form,     "---To cover ass, we’re taking a chance here."

She laid down on the second Gurney, and they did the job with dispatch.  When the blood was running, one of them said to her, "It’ll be another ten minutes to the hospital;  this will probably save his life."

Sarah lay on the Gurney and prayed to a God she had no close acquaintance with, ‘Oh God, please don’t take him I need him I love him so please God let him stay here he’s so dear and I love him I love him---’  The prayer went on and on, while slow tears slid from the corners of her eyes, and her life-giving blood flowed into him.

********
She sat in the waiting room for four hours while Johner was in surgery; after a few minutes she wished that she were back in the ambulance, where she could see him, and where she had communication with those who were working on him.   She stood, and sat, and paced;  she cried a little, but not much.  They might say she could see him, and she couldn’t be crying.

When the doctor finally came out to talk to her, he was smiling.  "He’s going to be all right.  It’ll be a long pull, but he’s going to be fine."

Her resolve not to cry wasn’t proof against this news.  Her face crumpled, and the man put his arms around her and held her with kindness while she sobbed out her relief and her thankfulness.  After a couple of minutes, she got some control of her tears, backed out of his embrace, and looked up at him.  "Sorry, I’m sorry, I just---".

"Hey, don’t apologize, it’s OK.  Are you ready to hear about it?"

"Yes, tell me."

"The bullet missed his heart by about 10 millimeters.  He’s very lucky to be alive.  And lucky that you were there for the transfusion; it saved his life.   The paramedics took a big chance to do what they did for him, it wasn’t exactly routine.   But he owes his life to them, and to you.

"He’ll be in the hospital for a while.  We had to do quite a bit of repair, and his lung was involved, so there will be some time needed for recuperation.  He’s got a strong body, and he’s in very good shape.  That will help a lot."  He smiled at her.  "He’s still out, but I think it would be OK if you went into the recovery room to sit with him.   He should come to within the hour.  Would you like to do that?"

"Oh, yes, please!"

 

His face was white, but he was breathing easily, and she was so glad to see him alive and breathing at all that the tears began again to slide down her face.

She reached under the blanket and captured his hand, raising it to her lips and then just holding it, looking at each finger, examining his nails, feeling the texture of his skin, absorbing the fact of his continued existence here in this world with her.

"Watcha doin’?"  His voice was soft and  the words were slurred.

She looked up to see his eyes open, his smile just showing.

"I’m just loving you, and thanking the gods that you’re still here with me."  She smiled back brilliantly, through her tears.

"I’m here.  Can’t leave you."  His eyes drifted shut again.

*******

Johner was not the world’s most patient patient.  After the first two or three days, when he was sedated and slept most of the time, he began to agitate to go home.  By the middle of the second week, he was raising hell.  "Why the fuck do I have to stay here?  I can lay in bed at home.   Jesus Christ, these nurses are driving me batty!  I don’t want to pee in a bottle with some strange woman watching me!  Ask the doctor when I can go home!"

"Johner, we’ve been through this.  Not for at least another week."  She laughed at the expression on his face.

 "Well, then, ask him when I can get up.  Just to go to the can!  Jesus, Connor, this is undignified!"

"Maybe this’ll teach you to stay under cover when you’re in a dangerous situation.  You deserve to pee in a bottle!"

"Thank you!  Thank you very much!  I sure appreciate your support, and  I hope to be able to thank you more properly when I get out of this hellhole.  Have you ever been spanked, Connor?"

"Are you threatening me?"

"Damn right!  And I will follow through with great relish."  He grinned evilly.  "Come to think of it, Connor, it might be a kick to spank you.  I understand some people find it quite a turn-on.  Not that I need a turn-on; if I don’t get home to bed with you pretty soon, I’m  going to start thinking the nurses look good.  And that is quite a stretch.

"Ask the doctor when I can go to bed with you, Connor.  Or better still, why don’t you just come over here, closer to me.   I want to talk to you."

"Talk, my foot!  I know what you’ve got in mind.  Johner, you’re a sick man, and injured too!" she laughed,  "Try to keep your mind on recovery."

"I need a drink of water.  Come over here and help me."

She moved closer to him, teasing a little, keeping just out of reach.  "I think you can reach the water without my help."

"Connor, get your butt over here.  I wanna feel you up!"

She laughed and moved next to the bed.  "At least that was honest."

His hand moved over her, sliding over her hip and down her leg.  "God, you feel good.  I want you, Connor."

She leaned over to stroke the side of his face.  "I want you too.  I miss you in bed at night, Johner."

His hand moved to the inside of her thigh, and slid up.  "Why don’t you wear a skirt tomorrow?  Then I’ll show you exactly how much I miss you."

"I’d be pleased to show you the same, but I’m afraid of the strain on your incision."

"Damn my incision.  Show me!"

She grinned at him, and slid her hand down his body under the blanket, carefully skirting the bandage on his chest.

Go just a little further down---a little further---there!  Oh Connor, right there!  Oh, Connor---yes, oh yes,---God---don’t stop---oh, Connor!"

*******

She grinned at him, and leaned down to kiss him.  "There, now you’ll sleep better."

"Thanks, Connor, I needed that.  But it’s not the same as sleeping with you.  I want to go home to bed with you.  Ask the doctor---"

"Johner, if you tell me once more to ask the doctor when you can go home, I’ll scream!"

"---As I was about to say, when somebody interrupted, ‘Ask the doctor when we can have sex.’"

"Pardon me?  Isn’t it a little late to ask that?"

A grin spread over his face.  "You talking about what we just did?  That’s not sex, that’s just a little entertainment.  I want to take you to bed and touch you everywhere and kiss you all over and---well, you know the drill.  He sobered quickly.  "I miss you, Connor.  I miss going to sleep with you in my arms.  This place is not good.  I want to go home."

"I’ll talk to the doctor again.  I think you’ll do better at home, too."

The doctor agreed;  he also could see that Johner was fretting to be gone from the hospital.  So Johner got his way, and was borne triumphantly home.

On the first night, when bedtime came there was an argument about who was going to sleep where.  Sarah could see that the trip home had tired him, and thought that he would be more comfortable alone, just for this one night, but Johner was having no part of it.

"Woman, get into this bed!  I might as well be in the hospital if you don’t.  In fact, it would be better.  The service is quicker there, and they don’t give me so much lip."

Sarah capitulated;  he was going to be very upset if he didn’t get his way.  "Okay, but just to sleep.  No fooling around!  You’re exhausted!"

"When I make love to you, I am not fooling around!  But OK, just to hold you while we go to sleep.  I’m too tired to do you justice anyway."  He smiled, and pulled the covers back with a flourish.  "In, woman, in!"

Sarah climbed into the bed with no further words, secretly thankful that he had insisted.  She slid up against him, her body spooned in front of his. Johner pulled her closer to him, and made a snuggling movement to bring her into full contact with his body.  "God, this is what I wanted; this is what I missed so much."

"How’s the wound?  Am I leaning on it?"

"Christ, Connor, I’ll let you know if I’m hurting!"  He paused and his voice softened, its velvet timbre very much in evidence.  "I just want to feel you lying soft and relaxed against me; there is no feeling in the world to match it. There---there, like that.  Oh Connor, this is what I missed."

"I missed it too, Johner.  I’m so grateful to have you back where you belong at last."

"Me too, Connor, me too."
 
 

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