Читать книгу Call Sign Karma - Jamie Rae - Страница 11

The only one laughing at my cringe attack was Karma.

Stitch was by my side within seconds, grabbing my hand and looking me over. My boot tugged as a tearing sound ripped through the air. Damn. They cut the lace. With a fuzzy mind and throbbing head, I couldn’t help but regret that I didn’t cut it myself. Stupid.

“Shit Tink, are you okay?” Stitch steadied me as I sat up.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Lie. Of. The. Century. I wanted to die, but first I wanted to kick someone’s ass.

I threw a pissed off glance in the direction of Mojo then snuck a quick peek at the Brit instructor, still praying that it was all a mistake.

Nope. He stood above me, looking the same, but so different. He had a bruise under his left eye—a stark remind of last night. The sexy smirk and quiet confidence were gone, replaced by thinly drawn lips and dark cold eyes.

“Take her to Major Rex’s office,” Flight Lieutenant Sinclair commanded. He dropped his hands to his hips and sighed loudly without a glance in my direction. “The flight doc is on his way. The jackasses that tied the boot can join her.”

The way he looked past me hurt worse than the damn crack to the head. I knew he couldn’t show any outright affection because of his position. Sleeping with a student was definitely taboo, but was it really necessary to have me removed like yesterday’s trash?

“I’m sure as hell not letting these dumbasses take her alone,” Stitch said as large hands gripped my elbows and helped me to stand. The two guys who were sitting in front of me joined him. They were shadowed next to his burly frame.

“I’m fine. I don’t need to see the doctor,” I replied and pulled my arm away. No weakness.

“It wasn’t a request,” my knight-turned-asshole said. He turned and walked to the front of the room without a look in my direction. “All right, Yanks. Get your heads out of your arses and back into the game.”

I had been dismissed.

With my pride trampled, I stormed out of the room. I saw stars, first from what was probably a mild concussion, and second from my anger. I wanted to faint and throw up. Simultaneously. And that would have looked even more fantastic then my head banging, ass-crash I performed. This circus act was ready for the road.

“Tink, stop. Just wait. You look like you’re going to faint. Let me help you,” Stitch pleaded.

He was visibly upset. I didn’t want to look into his overprotective eyes or have him show me any kindness because I feared I would cry. I needed to stay angry and driven. I needed my poker face.

There was no way in hell that I would cry on my first day and definitely not in man’s town.

I swallowed back my emotions and shot him a look, and thankfully he got it. He stayed close, but didn’t touch me. Two sets of footsteps echoed behind us. If the jokesters thought their stunt was funny earlier, they were no longer laughing.

T-Rex’s neck was beet red and his nose flared like a bull as I entered his office. He ignored me and waved to a guy who had just walked in. He was a bronze-skinned guy whose hair was definitely not regulation.

“Hey Doc. Check her out and keep me posted, let me know if she needs to go off flying status,” he said and snapped his fingers, pointing to the two knuckleheads. “You two assholes follow me. Stitch, back to academics,” he ordered jutting out his thumb.

Stitch looked like he might argue, but his lips pressed together. He nodded and disappeared.

“Off flying status? You can’t keep me from flying,” I argued as my eyes widened in panic. “I’m fine.”

“Shut the hell up Pinkerton, the doc will decide that, not you.” T-Rex left the room before I could argue.

Fully pissed, I swallowed back a growl. He would have told anyone else to grow a pair and get back to class.

“Dude, you’re off to a great first day.” The doc patted me on the shoulder as he closed the door halfway. He was a little taller than me with deeply set dimples and shaggy blond hair. He needed a surfboard instead of a stethoscope.

If I wasn’t so enraged, I may have actually smiled when he called me dude. For once, I was just another pilot, just another dude. His nametag read Captain Fisher and his sandy hair waved with unruly curls.

“I’m Bodhi,” he said as he reached out his hand to me.

I accepted the gesture. “Hey, Bodhi.”

“All right, dude. Squeeze my hand.”

I fought a grin.

“Did you think I was going to say pull my finger?”

“Something like that.” I struggled to stifle a smile.

“It’s okay to laugh. It’s good for you. Releases endorphins and all that good stuff,” he answered and glanced at my nametag. His lips twisted into a smile, not one that was laughing, but one that was genuine. “Tinklee Pinkerton. Cool name. Are you related to that lobbyist from Virginia? The one that’s always around the squadron?” He reached for my other hand, and I squeezed harder than I intended.

“You’re crushing my hand,” he said with wide eyes.

“Sorry,” I apologized in nearly a whisper. I lessened my grip.

It wasn’t his fault that I thought my dad was an asshole. Most people liked him. Hell, I liked him at one time, before a fleet of F-35’s replaced Colin and me as his children.

Bodhi clicked on a penlight and shined it into my eyes. I followed the beam as he moved it around. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“The lobbyist? Is he your dad?” He pressed and moved closer to me and stared into my eyes. The distinct scent of salt water confirmed my suspicion that he held a surfboard as often as he did a stethoscope. Probably more.

“Yes.”

“So you’re Thor’s lil’ sis?”

I dug my nails into my leg and gave a sharp nod. Bodhi moved around behind me and parted my hair where I hit my head. Not once, but twice, in the same damn spot.

“Sorry for your loss. Thor was an awesome dude. It crushes me to even think about it.”

I swallowed what felt like a dry cotton ball that scratched all the way down my throat. I couldn’t answer even if I had wanted to.

Bodhi patted my shoulder as he stepped away. I appreciated his sincerity, but my dead brother was not something I was going to discuss.

“You’re not going to take me off flight status are you?” I questioned. I held my breath and waited for him to answer. I couldn’t be grounded on my first day.

“You just cracked the heck out of your noggin, I need to make sure you’re okay to fly,” he responded and turned his back to me. He pulled open the door and hollered down the hallway. “Dude, grab me an icepack from the bar.”

A second later, he was back standing beside me.

Normally, I would shut my mouth and figure another way around the situation, but I trusted him for some reason and I thought he would understand.

“Please,” I said trying to keep my voice even and unemotional. “I don’t want to draw any more attention to myself.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he replied with a shoulder shrug. “Stand up. Let me see you walk.” He propped himself on the edge of on the desk and folded his arms.

I stood. The blood rushed toward the bump on my head and it pulsed. Fighting back a wince, I limped toward the other end of the office. My foot ached as much as my head and as a reminder of last night, my heart joined in on the pain.

“Did you hit your foot, too?” he asked when I turned around.

“I got pinched by a crab. It’s fine.”

“Dude, you’re totally axed. Sit and take off your boot. We better make sure it’s not infected.”

I sighed as I followed his orders and sat on the chair. I hated people fussing over me. Bodhi sat down on the desk in front of me. I lifted my foot and he undid the laces, pulling off the sage green boot followed by my sock.

“It has a bandage on it. Did you use antibiotic cream?” he asked as he loosened the wrap. Heat seared my cheeks as I scrambled to think of a lie.

“I don’t know,” I muttered since I hadn’t put on the bandage.

There was a knock on the door and a guy dressed in gray camouflage walked in holding a can of beer.

“I couldn’t find an icepack, so I grabbed a beer,” he explained.

“Way to improvise, man, I like it.” Bodhi fist-bumped the guy, then handed me the can. “Put this on that gnarly knot.”

I placed it against my head. The coolness felt good, but after last night I was steering clear of beer. The bandage fell. My foot was red, but didn’t appear swollen.

“Yes,” he said.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, someone put antibiotic cream on it,” he said with a grin and winked.

The heat traveled south as I remained quiet. Things couldn’t get any more embarrassing.

“Why the bloody hell are you examining her foot? She hit her head.” The British voice startled me.

I jumped as I pulled my foot away. I didn’t bother turning around. I couldn’t bring myself to have him look past me again.

“I’m just being thorough. I was about to start the breast exam when you decided to cock block me, dude.”

My eyes widened and I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or kick him in the groin. Maybe both. My prior bedmate roared in laughter before I could decide. Locke’s laugh made me want to growl and possibly hit him in the head again with a bottle, only harder this time.

“Duke Sinclair.” Bodhi stood and to my shock, they man-hugged. “Dude, I haven’t seen you since that night in Australia when we got inked.”

“I’m still trying to forget that night and so is my ankle. I can’t believe I let you talk me into getting a tattoo,” he said and his accent irritated me.

Bodhi chuckled. “At least yours has significance. I ended up with a…” he trailed off and glanced at me. “Never mind. How’ve you been, dude?” He returned his attention to Locke.

“I’m good, man. It’s great to be here.”

I rolled my eyes.

“When did you get in?” Bodhi continued as he sat on the desk.

“Just a couple of days ago. I signed in at the base, found a house and went straight to work.”

He didn’t go straight to work. Not so admirable now was he? They continued their exchange. I sat unacknowledged with a can of beer on my head.

“Ahem,” I said and cleared my throat.

Bodhi glanced back at me.

“Dude, you need to stop abusing your students. The lieutenant is pretty banged up,” he said.

I choked causing my eyes to water. Bodhi shot me a sideways glance.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he patted me on the back.

I nodded and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

“Is she off flight status?” Locke’s voice went cold.

His use of pronouns when referring to me torqued me. Apparently referring to me as Lieutenant Pinkerton was too hard. I ignored Locke and instead, stared with pleading eyes at the doc.

“No, she’s good. Nothing a dose of ibuprofen won’t fix. And a prescription to stay away from you,” Bodhi teased as he flicked his gaze between us. There was a dark undertone to his voice that caused my gut to tighten.

“At least she can fly,” he said.

I glanced in Locke’s direction. He was looking at me, but his eyes were cold and distant as if the Locke from last night no longer existed. I now knew that our perfect first night was definitely our last.

“Dude, she almost got a concussion in your class, first day even. You need better control of your students,” Bodhi said and hit Locke in the arm, breaking our trance.

Locke looked away before he answered. “I have to get back. I only wanted a report on her status as the incident occurred under my watch.”

Another pronoun. And now I was an incident. Sounded about right. My throat thickened as I tried to swallow.

“Sure, man, she’s good. I’ll package her up and send her back to you in just a bit.” He reached up and slapped hands with Locke. “Good to see you.”

“You too. When you’re done, send her to lunch. We start back at 1400, Lieutenant.”

Without another look in my direction, Locke walked out. If the doc hadn’t been sitting there I would have flipped him the bird. Last night, he really was too good to be true, and my so-called perfect man turned out to be a more perfect asshat.

Thank God we were inside and I didn’t have to salute him.

Bodhi picked up my foot and reached into his medical bag. He cleaned off my wound, put on fresh ointment, and redressed it.

“There you go. I can bandage you up way better than any red coat.”

A string of curses shot through my mind. My Starbucks coffee churned in my stomach…he was referring to Locke. How could he know?

Bodhi scribbled something on a pad, ripped off the paper and handed it to me along with a wink and a smile. He patted me on the shoulder then strolled from the room.

“See ya around, Pinkerton.”

I stared at the notepad. The prescription was short and direct: “Cleared for flight status. Good luck.”