Chapter Twenty - Maya
This crazy bitch. I’ve been planning for minutes how to turn and knock her teeth out, but there’s no time. I close my eyes, wondering if I’ll feel the bullet, wondering why my life isn’t flashing before my eyes. The roar of the gun tears through the world and I can’t believe that this is how I die.
Then I open my eyes as two heavy objects hit the floor. One is Cindy, pinned beneath Conrad. The other object is his bleeding body. The bullet entered his torso and left an exit wound in his back, just above his belt. I rush forward and take the gun, which has fallen on the floor. Angela is scrambling for her phone. I hear her calling 911. The last thing I see before everything goes dark is Mike, the pilot. He’s standing in the doorway.
30 minutes later I watch the EMTs load Conrad into a helicopter. They’ll life flight him to the closest hospital. I’m sure he has an army of private doctors he could pay, but not out here. Mike drives me and Angela. The police have already taken Cindy away. I might feel sorry for her later, but right now I just hope they lock her up. They can get her the help she needs after they lock her up.
That stupid man, Conrad. He saved my life. I can’t believe how close I came to dying. And now I’m driving to the hospital to see him. The EMTs wouldn’t tell me anything about his status. They looked worried, unless I’m reading too much into it. If he dies protecting me I don’t know what I’m going to do, or how I’m going to live with that.
“He’s going to be fine,” says Angela, as if she can hear my shrieking thoughts. As if she can feel that future guilt and wants to snatch it away from me. “He’s a tough bastard. You’re lucky, in more ways than one.”
I turn to look at her.
“Not everyone has someone who will die for them, Maya,” she says. “He did that to protect you, and he’s paying for it. But you know what? I bet he’d do it again, a hundred times out of a hundred.”
Maybe. I just want him to be okay.
When we get to the hospital they tell me that he’s in surgery. I won’t be able to see him for a few hours and they won’t tell me his condition. So Angela takes me upstairs and we set up camp in the most depressing cafeteria ever. Even though my nerves are raw, I manage to doze under the fluorescent lights. When I wake up someone has joined us at the table.
It’s Zima. She’s obviously been crying.
“What is it?” I say, fearing the worst.
Amazingly, she takes my hand. “No, it’s not that. He’s not out of surgery yet. I’ve just been upset.”
“How did you hear about it?”
“I’m his sister. Mike called me. God, I’m so scared. He must really love you, you know. I hope you appreciate this.”
His sister?
“Why are you working at the firm if you’re his sister?” I say. “Shouldn’t you be off doing billionaire things?”
“I’m not a billionaire,” she says. “I’m just someone who wants to work hard and stay close to her brother. I fucked up a ton when I was young and caused our parents a lot of grief. I needed a lot of help, and I think sometimes he has resented me from how much hurt I caused them. He saved my life. He was always there when I needed him. I’m protective of him, so sue me. You have no idea how badly he’s been hurt. Women use him. He can’t let anyone get close. But I can’t tell there’s something different with you, about how he looks at you. You better not be jerking him around.”
“Don’t worry,” I say, squeezing her hand. “I’m not. Let’s just get through the next part.” The next part takes three hours. Zima and Angela get to know each other. I get to know my anxiety and guilt even better. I entertain all sorts of nightmare scenarios. There are reality shows like Anesthesia Nightmares for a reason. These doctors had better be competent. These surgeons had better not mess up. I start thinking about the horrible things I’ll say about this hospital in my videos if anything happens to him. They’ll never know what hit them. They’ll...
Finally, a doctor appears. He tells me I can see Conrad. I want to cry when I see him in the hospital bed. He still looks enormous and muscular and virile, but no one looks their best in a hospital gown and an IV in their arm. Zima kisses his forehead and he winces when she punches him in the shoulder.
“Hey you,” he says to me. “How’s things?”
“She’s been really worried,” says Zima. “We both have.”
“Do you know what they did with the bullet?” says Conrad. “Tell me it wasn’t a clean exit wound. I really wanted that bullet. I could make it into an earring, or gauge my ears and wear it as a warning to all of my enemies.”
Zima takes her cue and leaves, promising to be back soon.
“How are you feeling?” I say.
“This wasn’t part of the experiment,” he says. “But I think I know what I needed to learn. I think I learned it.”
“Conrad,” I say, taking his hand. My voice is shaking. “You probably saved my life.”
“Think it might be worth writing about?” he says.
“How do you feel about it, tough guy?”
“I feel a little bummed out that we’re going to have to end the experiment early,” he says. “We were supposed to have ten more days out there at the cabin.”
“Who says we can’t? The doctor says that you’ll be able to go home soon. I’m sure you could pay a bunch of hot nurses to come tend to you out there.”
“I don’t want a bunch of hot nurses and there’s no point to testing it out for another ten days.”
“Why not?” Maybe I’ve been wrong about everything. Maybe what we felt was temporary, or imaginary.
Conrad rises up in his bed like a macho idiot. “I feel like I didn’t need two weeks to fall in love with you. I didn’t need those videos either. Or the research. I just needed to have you around. Will you stick around?”
Maybe I just don’t know myself as well as I thought. Or him. Not many things are as exciting as not knowing what’s going to happen next, provided that you’re with the right person. This is a shared moment.
I lean down and kiss him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
This is a moment that belongs to us. There will be other experiments we can try. Together.
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