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“Yeah, but if you’re not, find out from her, and then we’ll need to contact the embassy.”

Eric turned around and leaned his back against the rail. More and more crew lingered and appeared on deck. “Let’s finish this in my office,” he said. He didn’t wait for Joe to respond, knowing his friend would follow his lead. Joe closed the cabin door behind them as Eric took a seat behind his polished dark wood desk. The leather chair swooshed when he leaned back, and he rubbed the scratchy bristles of his cheeks and groaned. He still needed to shave. He looked a mess, and he was one
to always be neat and tidy, something he insisted from everyone aboard his ship. Even their uniforms had to look tiptop.

His cabin was large and spacious, with dark carpeting and a separate sleeping room. Across from his desk on the other side of the room were a sofa and chair where they held their daily department head meetings. The furnishings resembled those that
could be found in the office of a CEO of a large corporation. The ship was new, and all the amenities were first rate. It was deceiving: Every time he walked into this cabin, he could almost believe he was entering a five-star hotel, until he looked up and was rudely jolted back to reality by the gray pipes and cables weaving their way above his head. He had laughed the first time he saw them.

Joe slid out the upholstered chair on the other side of the desk.

Eric wanted to kick himself for being this rattled. “So what are we going to do about her?” he said, only realizing after the fact that he had spoken out loud.

“Can you fly her off to the Vincent Carrier or to Bahrain?”

Eric dropped his feet to the ground hard and leaned forward, resting his arms on his extremely neat desk. “You know what? Right now, she stays here. We’ll decide where she goes after I talk to her and the doctor,” he snapped a little too sharply.

“What’s really bothering you about this? Eric, I’ve known you a long time, and I would have thought you’d transfer her off or have me make the arrangements. You’ve never given a woman a second glance.” Joe was one to cut through the bullshit, and he was right: Eric was not one to
become emotionally attached.

“Shit, Joe, I’m not a monster, but evidently whoever did this to her is,” he barked.

“You’re right, but we don’t know the whole story.”

Eric didn’t expect that from Joe. He stared at his friend, wondering just
what the hell was up with him.

“You should let me talk to her, Captain. Let me handle this.” Joe was really pushing it.

Eric thought about it, but there was something different about Abby. Something had happened, and he didn’t feel right letting anyone else talk to her. “No.” He jabbed a finger at Joe. “What I want you to do is notify command, let them know where we found Abby. Tell them that as soon as we have more details, we’ll fill them in. Then get in touch with some of your contacts in Bahrain, unofficially, of course. I want to know what boats were in the area. Have them pull up satellite, and find out any information about this girl, if anyone saw her aboard the boat and with whom. You and I both know what she most likely escaped from, but I want all the cold, hard facts, because right at this point, we really don’t know anything.” Raising his steely hand, palm forward, he stopped Joe from leaving his chair. “One more thing.” He gestured toward the door. “Make sure the crew keeps away from her. I don’t want some curious young sailor wandering down there, so post a guard outside the door of sickbay. Make it clear to the crew that she’s off limits.”

“As you say, Captain.
How soon are you planning on getting her off this ship?”

This time, Eric wouldn’t look at his XO but swiveled his chair around and stared out the port window. “That’ll be all.”

Joe hesitated and gave a chuckle that was something between a groan and irritation as he slid back his chair and stood. For a moment, Eric could feel his gaze burning into him as if he wasn’t finished and had something more to say. “I’ve know you for a lot of years, Eric, and you are a damn hard man for anyone to read, except me. I know you better than you think I do.” Then he left, leaving the door open behind him.

Eric wondered for a moment what he meant by that. Sometimes, it bothered him that he shared everything with Joe. As pointed out by a staff shrink, he didn’t like to share anything about himself: his abandonment issues, his lack of commitment. This was a window into his soul that any enemy could use to overpower him, get in his head and fuck with him. Even friends with loose lips said and shared things without thinking, and Eric swore he didn’t want anyone getting that close to him again.
But as his thoughts swept over to Abby, a vulnerable picture of her all alone, a flow of questions surrounding her arrival consumed him.

Where did you come from? Who are you? What happened to you? Who did this to you? They were dark and ugly, the thoughts that crept in, from the possibility of terrorist links, to a trap, to this girl being tortured and
abused willingly just to fool them. But that last part didn’t feel right. Eric knew deep down that his first thought had to be to his crew and ship’s safety, and his responsibilities wouldn’t let him dismiss the thought that this whole thing could be a trick. The enemy did absolutely despicable things and wasn’t above using a pregnant woman.

Eric picked up the pile of reports awaiting his approval on the side of his desk. He flipped impatiently through the pages of information. Sighing in frustration, he threw them down while silently wanting to kick his own ass for this distraction, because Eric didn’t allow distractions
to ever interfere with his duties. He lived and breathed this ship, the Navy. He did what he needed to do and pushed away everything and anything that pulled him from his duties. He often frowned on the married sailors who’d get a letter or email from home and lose it over something they couldn’t deal with from this distance, yet here he was, doing the same thing. He shook his head, disgusted with himself and swearing under his breath. He tossed the papers in his drawer, pushed away from the desk, and marched out determined to have his little chat with Abby right away.

A tall guard was posted outside sickbay. If there was one thing about Joe, it was that he followed through on everything asked of him without hesitation. Eric nodded to the guard as he opened the door and stepped in, closing it behind him. His hand was still pressed against the steel door when he caught sight of her. For a moment, he found it difficult to breathe as he gazed over her lying on her side, propped with pillows nestled in one of the bunks. A sheet had been draped over her, but her slim bare legs were sticking out, her right palm resting easily on the mattress. White tape covered the entire surface of her small hand, which held the plastic tube of an IV in place. Her eyes were closed, and she was an absolute picture of innocence and peace. He hated to wake her and found that watching her this way stirred something in him. He felt something jam his throat until it felt oddly uncomfortable. He’d closed himself off for years, and he’d been able to control his caring for anyone at a snap of his fingers. He could shut it down and move on, and he’d had to do that. It was too painful to care, to want, and then have it all ripped away from him and told he was worthless.

He didn’t know what made him look over, but he spied Gail Carruthers, second-class hospital corpsman, on duty.
There was something about her that set his teeth on edge. There were those he tolerated and could put out of his mind, but her, she seemed to know which of his buttons to push, and it was as if she went out of her way to stomp on each one. In fact, she was doing it again now. She wasn’t acknowledging him and his authority as captain. She stared at him as if he wasn’t there. What the hell? He took a step toward her and was about to strip her down and yell at her, reminding her of her position, when he glanced at Abby again and paused mid-step. He couldn’t and didn’t want to upset her. “Where’s Lieutenant Saunders?” he growled at the short, mousy-looking corpsman.

“He went down to the wardroom. He’ll be back at twelve hundred,” she replied, as if he was just another sailor and no one of importance.

The captain blinked again and gripped his hands behind his back, and it took a minute to register in his head that she hadn’t addressed him as required. Why, this arrogant chit was about to get the dressing down she so deserved! He stared down on her, watching her feeling the fires of hell burning inside him, and he knew he had to be shooting sparks from his eyes. He felt his face burn and cheek twitch as he contained what he really wanted to do, throttle her. He knew he was close to the edge, and any sailor who had pushed him to this point would have wished to be anywhere other than forced to stand in front of him, sweating and pissing his pants.

But
this woman didn’t seem to care. She stared at him and glanced away as if he was keeping her from something important, as if he was an insect. His mind was spinning as he tried to remember who she was and what the hell she was doing on his ship. He growled inside, but it was a rustle from Abby that had him hesitate and stifle the urge to toss this corpsman in the brig until she learned some respect. “How’s Miss Carlton?” He gestured toward Abby with a subtle tilt of his head.

“Her vitals are stable, sir.” She had one of those obnoxious screechy voices, and she spoke a little too loudly, considering where she was.

Abby moaned and rustled again. What the hell was the matter with this corpsman? He gestured to Abby and stung Gail with a look that implied she should know better. Then, in a clipped tone, he said, “That will be all, Carruthers.” He was proud of himself for the restraint he’d shown, but instead of this woman getting the hell out, which would have been the smartest thing to do, she stood there as if confused.

Of course, that was the final straw. “Get the hell out of here!” he shouted, jabbing his finger toward the door. This time, he got the reaction he expected. She fled out the door, and he had to hold himself back from wanting to race after her and unleash the monster inside of him, putting the fear of God into her, after he noticed Abby was watching him.

He stopped everything as warmth shimmered in her startling blue eyes for him. She was a mess, an absolutely gorgeous mess. Her long hair was so dirty and tangled, but it was lovely to him. “Hi, how are you feeling?” He approached her, and her smile was so subtle and warm and blinding that it was doing all kinds of horrible things to him. He felt as if he’d just been lit up, as if fireworks were going off inside him, and he felt flustered, which pissed him off. Get it together, man! he wanted to shout at himself. He stared at her as she tried to pull the sheet over her leg.

“Better. Thank you…for everything.” Her face tinged pink, and he could feel the instant his eyebrows raised. When had he ever faced a woman who blushed? He watched as she pressed her hand to the bed and started to sit up before wincing. She pressed her hand to her ribs and sucked in a breath.

Eric placed his hand on her shoulder over the faded hospital gown she now wore. “No, don’t move. I didn’t mean to wake you...”

Voices outside the door had him turning just as it popped open, and Lieutenant Larry Saunders stepped in, carrying a food tray. He hesitated. Eric was quite aware he was early, and the doctor was most likely surprised. The guard didn’t hesitate or linger, pulling the door closed behind the doc.

“Captain.” Larry placed the tray on the silver counter along the wall. Eric watched the doc take a sweeping glance around the sick bay. Larry frowned. “I seem to be missing a corpsman,” he said in a low voice.

“Actually, Doc, I dismissed your corpsman.” Eric felt the reins of his temper fray again as he thought about Carruthers and how it had seemed she was challenging him.

Larry only nodded and then faced Abby. “I see you’re awake. I brought you some lunch. Eat. It’s not the Ritz, but it’s edible.” Larry strode beside the bed and slid his hand under her elbow and shoulder, supporting her while she sat up, sliding her legs over the side of the bed. “Captain, could you slide that table over here?” he asked, gesturing to the small brown table behind him. Eric slid it over in front of Abby, and Larry set the tray upon it.

“It smells good; I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” Abby said. This time, her voice sounded smooth and silky, but he could hear the traces of weariness in her tone. She glanced shyly up at the captain and, with shaky hands, tucked long locks of hair behind her ears. She tried to run her fingers through the knots in her tangled hair, pulling hard enough he thought she’d rip her hair out. She was so nervous of him.

“Eat your lunch, Abby. After you’re done, I’m sure the doc here can get someone to scrounge up a brush for your hair, maybe a shower, too, so you can get cleaned up.”

She glanced shyly again before immediately lowering her gaze as if she should know better. “Thank you, sir. That would be nice.” She unrolled the napkin that surrounded the utensils and seemed to hesitate, as if she needed his permission to continue.

“Abby, you’re a guest here. Please eat.”

She
nodded, her hands clasped together, and then lifted a spoon to her lips and sipped the dark broth.

“Doc, can I have a word please?” Eric asked. He didn’t wait for a response as he crossed the room, just out of earshot, then crossed his arms and faced the doc. “Your corpsman is a problem you need to deal with.”

“May I ask what she did, sir?”

“She’s insubordinate.
Refused to address me as her captain. I wonder if she has a lick of common sense in that brain of hers. Just what the hell is she doing here on my ship?”