Free SEAL My Home: Bad Boys of SEAL Team 3, Book 2 (SEAL Brotherhood Series 9) by Sharon Hamilton Page A

roommate in a backwards bear hug under his armpits, setting him back down on the bed without being very gentle. The patient howled in pain. She grunted, satisfied the man wouldn’t be a danger to himself or others. “Been a long time since I got this level of ornery on my floor, and here they goes and put you two together in my room on my shift.” She straightened her uniform and glared at the Indian orderly.
    “You go tell Dr. Thomas they’s both awake and I need instructions in a hurry.”
    The orderly hesitated. In his singsong accent he told her, “I think Dr. Thomas went home.”
    “No, dummy. He went downstairs for dinner. You’re gonna interrupt his dinner whilst I babysit these two.”
    The orderly quickly departed.
    The nurse addressed the attempted escapee. “What kind of dumbass thinks he can get up and walk after surgery? Mr. Corrigan, you got pins and rods and so much metal in you, you gonna set off alarms wherever you go.”
    He started to say something, but coughing overtook him.
    “You warm enough?” she asked, addressing Mr. Corrigan.
    “No. I’m freezing my butt off in here. Can you bring me a warm blanket and some slippers?” he returned hoarsely, peevishly.
    Rory couldn’t see much of the patient except for stiff greying hair that stood up like cornhusks on an aging scarecrow. The nurse’s rear end was easily the full width of the bed. Just before she turned, she admonished the patient. “You hold tight there, Mr. Corrigan. We got no slippers, but we got some nice scratchy brand new blankets and I’ll go unwrap one for you.”
    The man grunted.
    “Now you don’t try anything foolish, or I’ll chain you to the bed. Don’t think I won’t.”
    When she left the room, Rory could finally breathe. He examined the profile of the tanned face to his right. The man suddenly gripped his wrist and touched his left ring finger. “Goddammit. Thieves. This place is crawling with thieves.”
    Rory was feeling the effects of the drip the nurse had adjusted and was jumbled up inside, trying to piece together the facts, but unable to think clearly or do anything about any of it.
    “You miss something, gramps?”
    “They took my watch and my ring. It was my great-grandfather’s ring and I want it back.”
    Rory turned his head horizontally as if to consider whether the man was out of his mind. It was an odd sensation. The drugs made him curious.
    Again, the door burst open and Rory recognized the face of the doctor who had treated him in surgery. In addition to the shattered lens, the doctor had taped the bridge of the glasses with white surgical tape. Nurse Ratchett was right behind the doctor.
    “Mr. Corrigan, we understand you are to be transferred to another facility in a couple of days after you stabilize a bit. In the meantime, I suggest you lay back, just relax, and let us pamper your every whim. Of course, if you do anything foolish, I have already given the approval to secure you to the bed and gag you, if necessary.”
    He nodded to the nurse who spread the blanket out over the lower body of Mr. Corrigan. Dust and fuzz blew all over the room. She was sporting a wide grin.
    “Do we understand each other?” He delivered it in his best Jack Nicholson accent.
    “Crystal,” Mr. Corrigan answered in a mock Tom Cruise imitation.
    “Sir,” the doctor nodded as he walked right past the end of Rory’s bed.
    “Hey!” Rory shouted. “What am I? Did I just get the nosebleed seats in this game?”
    The doctor gave Rory a smirk and sat down on the edge of the bed. “No, sir. I’m not done torturing you. You have more surgeries in your future. Places I can still stick pins that will make you scream and wish you’d never set foot here.”
    “More surgeries?”
    “I’ll be making my rounds later, explain it all in detail. You got some friends who want to see you outside and I’m gonna keep them out until you behave.”
    “I’m behaving. This is me—”
    Sharp pain seared down his left