Title: No Flag
Series: After Everything, Book One
Author: Liz Borino
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 06/07/2021
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 67100
Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, family-drama, military, war, violence, terrorists, disabilities, amputee, bartender, Dom/sub relationship, domestic discipline, OCD
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Description
Captain Mike Kelley does not ignore his intuition, so when sexy bartender Will Hayes captures his heart, Mike embarks on a mission to win him over to a Domestic Discipline relationship. Will accepts with one caveat: Mike must promise not to renew his army contract.
Mike agrees, until the army invokes the stop-loss military policy to involuntarily extend his commission and send him back overseas, rendering him powerless and threatening everything he and Will have built. Will, left alone to cope with a new café, must rely on the support of old friends who may no longer be trustworthy.
A horrific terrorist attack on Mike’s outpost changes everything, leaving them both at a loss.
Mike awakens in a hospital with a devastating injury and no recollection of the attack. As the only survivor, his memory may be the key to national security. Mike struggles to cope with his injury and Will struggles with his new role in Mike’s life.
For Mike and Will, “No Flag” meant “come home alive.” Will has Mike back rather than a folded flag, but in the aftermath of war, can they rebuild the life they had before?
Exclusive Excerpt
No Flag
Liz Borino © 2021
All Rights Reserved
Germany, July 6, 2012
Beep, beep, beep. The sound of the machine was like an ice pick in Mike’s brain. Machine? Where was he? He tried to inhale, but choked on the smell of alcohol, plastic, and sterility in the air. Hospital. Shit. What the hell happened? Mike couldn’t remember…anything. Voices around him spoke a mixture of German and English. He pried his eyes open and focused on a woman in green scrubs.
“Good morning,” the woman said, sympathy in her eyes.
must look bad. And is it morning? “Um…” Mike lifted his hand to scratch his head, but it was so bogged down with wires, he did not get far. The other hand felt heavy, or maybe weightless. He couldn’t tell. What did they have him on? Whatever it was, was not enough.
“Do you know your name?”
“Michael Kelley.” The whole left side of his body burned and throbbed.
A man entered the room. “Captain Kelley, my name is Dr. Tate. How do you feel?” “Like the machine is drilling holes through my brain.” Mike tried again to move his head, but the neck brace kept it straight. He didn’t know if he was relieved or annoyed not to see the damage right away.
“I’m happy to see you awake and talking. Would you answer a few questions for me, so I can get a handle on your neurological function?” Mike was pretty sure he nodded because the doctor asked about his birthday, hometown, family, and a bunch of stupid questions about elephants floating on water and one pound being more than two. What the hell do elephants have to do with brain activity? Mike’s brain was fine, except knowing why he was here. “I’m going to check your surgery wounds, and we’ll arrange transport to the States. You’ll probably be at Walter Reed tomorrow night.”
“Surgery? Tomorrow?” Must be minor if I’m going home so soon. Then Will can kill me for getting hurt.
The doctor’s face changed to deep concern. “Do you know what happened?”
“No. The last thing I remember was a ringing phone and…an explosion behind me. Then nothing,” Mike recalled. “I’m okay, Dr. Tate. I have to be. You’re sending me home tomorrow.”
Dr. Tate sat on the chair next to Mike’s bed. “Captain Kelley—”
“Please, it’s Mike.”
“Mike, a group of insurgents broke through the security of the building where you were stationed. The explosion you heard could have been any one of the ten IEDs set off by the suicide bombers,” Dr. Tate started. “I’m sorry. You were awake when you came in. I thought you knew.”
No, no, that’s not right. If there were ten IEDs set off by suicide bombers, I would be underground. Not the doctor’s fault he was given bad information. All civilians are.
“Did everyone make it out?”
“Unfortunately, no. Twenty servicemen and women lost their lives.”
Mike lifted his eyes toward the ceiling to dry the physical proof of his emotions. “I’m all right?” He hated how selfish the question sounded, but he had to know.
“The left side of your torso is afflicted with first- and second-degree burns.” Dr. Tate paused and glanced up at the nurse, who—in what seemed like a choreographed move—put her hand on Mike’s shoulder. “The bomb also destroyed the building. A wall collapsed on your left arm, which had to be cut off to free you.”
“But you put it back on, right, Dr. Tate?” Mike scanned their faces, the kindness now looking more like pity. He had to be dreaming, or they were lying. Why couldn’t he move his head? Fuck it! He didn’t have to move his head. He’d move his damn arm! “I’m waving, doctor. It hurts, but I can do it. Why would you lie?” Mike gasped for breath.
The doctor stood, unfastened Mike’s neck brace, and encouraged him to turn his head. Though, suddenly, he didn’t want to. The hospital gown sleeve covered whatever remained of his left arm. “I’m sorry, Mike,” Dr. Tate said. “I could only even the bone and clean out lingering infected skin and muscle. Your arm was crushed.”
“All right, I’ll get a prosthetic when the swelling goes down. How long will that take?” Yeah, the rehab would suck, but Mike could deal. People managed much worse circumstances coming home from war.
Dr. Tate shook his head. “Because of where the wall fell, the army medic had to cut off the edge of your shoulder. By the time you arrived here, the infection had spread through the rest of the joint. A prosthetic is not possible without a joint.”
So… I’ll have to live the rest of my life with one arm? Can I ever hope to hold Will securely again? Oh, god, how will I fold my clothes properly? But instead of expressing the dread shooting through his heart and mind, Mike said, “Thank you for saving me.” He wanted nothing more than to be alone to process his future. Because if the doctor stayed much longer, he would see how distraught the prospect made Mike.
“Of course. Please know every one of us here is grateful for what you and all the troops do.” Dr. Tate unwrapped the stump that used to be Mike’s shoulder. “It will get better. There are support groups and many advances in medical technology that will improve your quality of life.”
My quality of life was fine before the stop-loss sent me overseas. He blinked the thoughts away. Mike had been given a chance that twenty of his friends had not. He would not let himself think about the broken promise to Will. I’ll come back and it’ll be like nothing changed. Now everything had changed.
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