Caught Unaware

Chapter 19

HOME OF COL. JOHN CASEY

ECHO PARK, LOS ANGELES CA

Amelia collapsed upon the bed in her room, exhausted and sore beyond belief. Casey wasn't kidding, this was an entirely different ballgame, learning the art of Krav Maga. He had learned from the best, therefore, so was she. And she was paying heavily for it.

Casey walked into Amelia's room, seeing the door opened, and went to her side, sitting on the bed.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yep," Amelia slurred, sleepily. "I just need a little bit of time to chillax before I get up. I ache everywhere."

"Do you need anything?" Casey asked her. He felt bad, she took a lot of blows and he maneuvered her body in ways she didn't know it could bend or stretch. Her limbs and torso were so sore, it almost hurt to breathe and he knew it from experience.

"Honestly, a hot bath and a massage would be fantastic," Amelia's voice was muffled in the pillow. She raised her head slightly to look at Casey. "Isn't there a spa or something nearby we could go to?" Casey scoffed lightly, shaking his head.

"I wouldn't send you someplace to be alone in a room with some one I don't know for sure isn't a threat. At best, I would do it for you." He patted her on the thigh before getting up. He began to walk by and was stopped by her hand on his wrist.

"Do you mean it? Could you?" Amelia asked him, craning her neck. Casey sat down beside her as she shifted over onto the mattress.

"Well, my hands aren't soft as butter and I don't have any heated oil prepared," he joked, taking her shoulders into his hands and squeezing gently. She sunk back into the pillow, pulling her elbows in so she was laying at an incline to provide him a better leverage.

Over the next half hour, he worked over her back, legs and ended with her feet, sitting at the end of the bed to do so. His palms were sore but he wasn't terribly concerned with it. Her hands were probably more sore from handling the gun's recoil over and over again, earlier.

Casey reached over and took the hand that was closest to him and began massaging the palm. She shifted a little bit but didn't stir much past that point. It was then that he realized she had, at some point, fallen asleep during his body rubbing. He contemplated leaving her there to rest as she was, but decided against it and continued on massaging her hand, making sure to get between her thin fingers and all.

When he was done, he stood, kissed her on her head and left the room so she could nap before she woke to eat something. That woman was going to be starving when she was awake, he thought.

Casey pulled out his cell phone from his pocket as he walked through the hallway.

MY PLACE. ASAP.

The text was sent and no longer than 11 minutes, Casey heard the knock on his door. He quickly walked over to it, peeked through the peep hole and opened the door.

Morgan was sweating from his run from the Buy More vehicle to Casey's door.

"Is it them, did they find Chuck and Sarah?" Morgan asked. Casey opened the door wider and Morgan walked in, looking up at Casey the entire time.

"No, no news yet. Listen. I'm taking a shower. In the meantime, I need you to get this," he lifted the bagged bracelet from his pocket, "something more suitable to present it in."

Morgan's face was instantly deflated. He had come all the way from work thinking Casey had news, but instead he had to run an errand. In an unusual move, Casey placed his hand on Morgan's shoulder in comfort.

"We will hear something soon, Grimes. Have some patience. Have some faith." Morgan nodded, not entirely convinced but he wasn't crippled with despair either. He nodded again and looked back up at Casey's 6'2" frame.

"Thanks, John," he said. "I'll be right back with something for the lady." Casey grunted and led Morgan to the door. Morgan turned around quickly before exiting.

"You know, if you're going to give it to her, you should probably make up a fancy dinner or something, take her out and give it to her that way--"

"I don't need you to tell me how to give a gift to a woman, Grimes," Casey growled, shoving Morgan out the door before shutting it.

"I haven't even considered doing it over dinner," Casey said out loud to himself. He looked over onto the adjacent wall, where a small portrait of Former President Ronald Reagan hung. "I guess the runt isn't wrong about everything," he commented, saluting his favorite president and walking into the kitchen.