“No. They slit her throat.”
Max felt his heart skip a beat. Guilt washed over him. It had never occurred to him that Jed was so deeply involved in the story behind the pictures. Naively, he’d assumed Jed’s distress stemmed from the military context of the photographs. “What was her name?”
“Nina. She was from Jerusalem.”
“Did you know her?”
“I did, but not as well as another guy on my team. He was elsewhere when this went down. Telling him she was dead was probably the hardest thing I’d ever done—up until that point, at least.”
Max felt suddenly unable to keep still. He felt Jed’s gaze on him as he jumped over the bedrail to land on his feet. “This happened a long time ago. Were you sick back then?”
“What? No. I didn’t get sick until last year.”
Max waited for him to elaborate. Up until now, he’d left the subject of Jed’s gastroparesis alone, hoping Jed would bring it up by himself, but, of course, he hadn’t.
After a moment, Jed sighed. “Everyone got sick from drinking bad water when we were out on ops. It was textbook, and not that uncommon, until the others recovered and I didn’t.”
Max paced around the bed and turned the photographs over so he didn’t have to look at them anymore. “You didn’t tell them either, did you?”
“Who? My team? No. I didn’t. My medic knew, but only because he’s a nosy bastard. Will you quit walking in circles?”
Max came to a reluctant stop and watched Jed rub the back of his neck. He’d done that a lot tonight. Maybe he’d slept on it funny. “Why didn’t you tell them?”
“There was nothing to tell. I just had a bellyache, man. It was nothing….” Jed gestured around him. “It wasn’t like this. It didn’t get really bad until after the second surgery on my leg. Besides, things were heavy at the time. My guys didn’t have time to worry about me.”
Frustration burned through Max’s soul. He didn’t know enough about life at war to argue, but deep down, he suspected that Jed’s men… hisfriends, would’ve seen it differently.
JEDCAMEawake suddenly. Max broke off midsentence, halfway to the bed before Carla could react, but Anna was already there. She caught Jed’s flailing arm with surprising strength and enveloped him in a tight hug before Max could even see if he was distressed.
It wouldn’t have surprised Max if he was. He’d seen Jed wake from unpleasant dreams more often than either of them cared to admit. Most times Jed would get up and leave the bed, and others he would sit with his head in his hands, but each and every time, there was little Max could do but squeeze his hand and go back to sleep.
That wasn’t an option here. Jed said something. The words were muffled by Anna’s embrace, but she laughed. “You haven’t called me that in years.”
Jed pulled back. Max could see by the rise and fall of his chest that he was rattled. “I forgot where I was for a minute.”
Anna pushed his hair back from his face in a tender gesture that made Max’s heart ache. “It’s okay, honey. I like it when you call me that. It reminds me of when you were all so young.”
Max tugged Carla from the room. Jed deserved… needed to be comforted, but he didn’t have it in him to watch him get mothered to death.
“Quit yanking on me.”
“What? Oh, sorry.” Max released his death grip on Carla’s arm as the door closed behind them. “Are you working today?”
“Not here. At the VA, but I’ll be back this evening for a meeting with Dr. Howarth.”
“About Jed?”
Carla rolled her eyes. “There are other patients in this hospital, you know, and I have a few of his patients on my books, so we meet once a week to touch base. I should’ve met him on Friday, but he was out of town.”
Max frowned. “Crap, I keep getting my days mixed up. I thought Jed had that weird camera thing done on Friday.”
“He did. Dr. Phelps did it.”
Max stopped walking. “Dr. Phelps? The douche bag with the bad teeth?”
“That’s the one. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” Max shook himself and resumed escorting Carla out of the hospital, but though she chattered away beside him, his mind was elsewhere. Dr. Phelps. Max didn’t like that guy, and the idea of him treating Jed made his skin crawl.