Chapter 59
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
I LOVE THE IDIOT
“Hello?” My eyes flutter open, and I sit up fast. I must have dozed off. A stunning-looking older woman is bending over me. “Hello?” she says again.
When I stand up, pain courses through my thigh. I resist the urge to look down at it. I don’t want to draw attention to the blood. “Hi… hello. Can I help you?”
“I’m not sure. My name is Valerie. Valerie Stone. Sam’s mom. You’re MacKenzie, right?”
“I am. You heard about Sam?” Of course, she did. Why else would she be here? My brain is not working well.
“Gill called me. He told me Sam was brought here by ambulance and that you were here as well.”
“I, uh, yes. That’s correct. He was. His leg was injured. He’s still in surgery.”
“How is he? Have you heard anything yet?”
“No.” I look up at the clock. “I’ve been waiting over an hour. I haven’t heard anything yet.”
“Were you there when he was injured?”
Oh, man. I don’t want to be the one to tell her about this.
She could easily decide I’m nothing but trouble for Sam when she hears how he was hurt.
She may want me far away from her son. The thought gives me a stab of terror.
I really am the cause of all of this. If he hadn’t met me, he wouldn’t be in this situation.
My terror builds, and I can’t breathe. I know it—I’m bad news. I’m… I’m….
“MacKenzie? Are you okay?”
I take a deep breath. “Yes. I was there.” Before I can elaborate, I see Gill and Lauren, with Officers Sawyer and Martinez following close behind.
Officer Martinez doesn’t look happy with me. “Do you think you could spare us a few minutes to answer some questions? You know, about the dead guy in your apartment?”
Lauren gasps but I’m assuming it’s more outrage than shock.
“Um, well, I wasn’t there when he got that way.” The look on Martinez’s face says all I need to know. MacKenzie, don’t push your luck. Sawyer’s face, on the other hand, looks amused. I’m glad one of us thinks this is funny.
“We’d like to ask you a few questions. We won’t keep you long,” says Sawyer in a kind voice. “I know you’re waiting on word about Sam.”
“Sure. Okay, that’s fine, thanks.”
“MacKenzie? Do you need an attorney?” Leave it to my bestie to want me to lawyer up.
“No.” I shake my head. I did nothing wrong. Probably.
“Officers, can you ask her the questions here? I feel like someone needs to be with her,” adds Gill. Lauren looks up at him and smiles sweetly, and they don’t stop looking at each other even after Sawyer agrees to the request. They’re just staring at each other. It’s freaky.
“Tell us what happened today.” Officer Sawyer has pulled out a notebook from his breast pocket and a pen from somewhere else. He pauses waiting for my response.
“I think we should be doing it at the station.” Martinez is definitely perturbed.
“Okay, well, I went home to grab my jewelry supplies—”
“Where were you previously?”
I realize that I need to back up with the story. “I was staying at Sam’s. I’ve been at Sam’s since I was released from the hospital—after the serial killer stabbed me in the park.” Sawyer nods encouragingly.
“Anyway, I’ve been feeling better and I wanted to work on my jewelry pieces.
Sam was at work, so I took a taxi to my apartment to get my things.
I was going to run in, get my jewelry-making supplies, and go right back to Sam’s.
But when I got there, I called Sam and we had an argument.
A few minutes later, I heard a knock at the door.
I thought it was Sam because we’d had that argument over the phone. ”
“So, you and Sam had an argument?”
Are you an idiot, Sawyer? I already said that. “Uh-huh. Anyway, I—”
“What was the argument about?”
Seriously? Do they really need to know this stuff? “It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got time,” Sawyer deadpans. Damn it. I thought he was on my side.
“Fine. Well, when I got to my house, my stuff was gone.”
“Stuff?” asks Martinez.
“Yeah. My stuff. My furniture, my shelves, my doodads. You know? My stuff.”
“Where was it?”
“I don’t know.” I still don’t know. “I called Sam to tell him I’d been robbed. I was upset. My Pops, he, uh, built a lot of my things,”
Lauren wraps her arm around me and gives me a light squeeze.
“Continue.” That comes from Sawyer. He’s getting to be just like his partner.
“I called Sam to tell him I’d been robbed. He told me I wasn’t robbed—that he’d cleaned out my place.
“What?” screeches Lauren. “Are you serious?”
I nod but turn back to the cops. “I, um, told him he was too controlling and I didn’t want to see him again, and then I hung up.”
“Damn straight, girlfriend.” I look over and see Sam’s mom with her hands on her hips and an angry expression on her face. “That son of mine can be so damn heavy-handed. Not to mention stubborn as a mule.”
“It’s not what you think,” adds Gill.
“What isn’t what she thinks?” Lauren snaps. “That her ex-boyfriend wasn’t trying to control her life?”
Looking at Lauren, Gill says, “Babe. It’s not what you think. That’s all I can say.”
Babe? Did he just call my best friend babe? She’s going to go ballistic. She hates it when guys say “condescending, macho bullshit” like that. Her words, not mine.
“Oh, okay,” she says, smiling sweetly at Gill.
What the hell?
“Can you please continue?” Martinez says curtly.
“Oh, right. So, I said that stuff. Then I hung up. A few minutes later, there was a knock on my door. I assumed it was Sam, but he has a key, so that seemed weird. But I was pissed and ready to confront him. I walked up and opened the door, and it was the serial killer.”
“The serial killer!” Valerie Stone exclaims.
I nod furiously. “It was him. He was all ghostly and zombie-ish.”
“Zombie-ish?”
“Pale. You know. Undead. Only now he really is dead,” I murmur.
“Keep going. What did he say and do?” asks Martinez.
I tell them what the creep said to me. It was embarrassing to admit that he kept calling me a slut, but I knew I had to do it. “When he said, ‘You’re a goddamn slut and do you know what happens to sluts?’ I told him they kick him in the nuts.”
Sawyer chuckles, and Martinez finally smiles. “What happened next?”
“I kicked him in the nuts. What did you think?”
“Nothing. I’d expect nothing less, MacKenzie,” Martinez says, smiling so big I can actually see teeth—straight, white teeth.
“I got up and tried to run, but he grabbed my ankle. I turned around and stomped on his hand. He curled up into a ball, and I ran up the stairs. I came around the corner and Sam was just pulling up. I yelled at him to ‘get a gun, a Taser, or the holy hand grenade,’ because the serial killer was in my place.” I take a deep breath.
Telling the story raises my anxiety and makes me a little short of breath.
“What the hell is a holy hand grenade?” asks Sawyer.
“Monty Python,” murmurs Gill.
“Did Sam have a weapon?”
“Yes, he grabbed a gun from somewhere on his body. He told me to get into his car and lock the doors. I listened to him, for once, and did what he said.”
I hear someone snicker. It’s Sam’s mom. I think I like her.
“I heard two shots and then nothing. I grabbed Sam’s phone to call 9-1-1. You guys came, and you know the rest.”
“So, you don’t know who attacked whom first?”
“Don’t answer that,” Gill says quickly. “She wasn’t there. She doesn’t know anything. Those are questions for Sam.”
The policemen nod. They know it’s true. I put my arm around my friend and look over at her, but she’s not looking at me—she’s beaming at Gill. My girl is smitten.
After the cops leave, we only have to wait a few minutes until a younger guy dressed in scrubs walks into the waiting area. “I was told to ask for a MacKenzie. Is she here?”
“Yes?”
“You’re the fiancée?”
“Um, well....” Sam’s mom gasps at the news, but I ignore her for now. I lift my hand and gesture to her. “This is his mom, Valerie.”
He nods, acknowledging everyone in the room. “I’m Dr. Thompson. Can we talk?” he asks, looking at Gill and Lauren.
“They can listen, too. We’re all family.”
“Very well. Samuel is out of surgery and in recovery right now. He had a relatively large puncture wound to his femoral artery. The traditional approach in EVAR or endovascular aortic repair involves surgical exposure of the femoral arteries with bilateral groin incisions. Through the groin access, and under fluoroscopy, a special insertion sheath introducer is used to position a stent graft in the desired location with the patient under general anesthesia.”
I blink at the doctor, hoping that someone in the room knows what the heck he’s saying. Thankfully, Lauren speaks up. “Doc? Speak English. We have no idea what you just said.”
He smiles shyly at all of us. “Sorry. I get caught up and forget that I’m talking to regular people.”
Regular people? “Is he okay, Doctor? Is he gonna be okay?” That’s all I care about, and I suspect that’s what everyone else cares about, too.
“I’m not going to lie. He’s not out of the woods yet.
He lost a lot of blood. That’s a concern.
Luckily, the officer who found him knew what to do.
He put pressure on the wound and attempted to apply a tourniquet.
We’ve begun to replenish his blood supply, and we’ll continue to monitor his labs.
That much blood loss has made him weak and vulnerable to infection.
We are concerned about infection, since he was stabbed in the leg with a foreign object. ”
A knife. That’s what he’s talking about.
“Doctor?” Sam’s mom asks. “When can we see him? Is my boy awake yet?”
“Once we make sure he’s awake and responsive, we’ll move him to a room in the Surgical Intensive Care Unit. The staff in that unit are top-notch; they will give Samuel the care he needs. After he gets to a room, you can see him one at a time.”
We all nod and thank young Dr. Thompson.
“That’s all so scary,” says Lauren.
“Very scary,” I agree. Sam’s mom has tears in her eyes. I walk to her and wrap my arms around her. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Stone.”
“Why are you sorry, honey?”
“Because if it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t be here.”
She gives me a hug in return. “Sweet MacKenzie. You’ve brought life to my son that I thought was lost when his friends and father died. Don’t be sorry. Just be the woman he needs. That’s all any mother wants for her children. He—”
“Mom.” A tiny woman with long blond hair interrupts Valerie’s words. “Where is he? Is he okay?”
“It’s okay, Perri. He’s out of surgery and in recovery. The doctor is optimistic he’ll make a full recovery.”
Did the doctor say that? He’s not fine, but I get what she’s doing. Perri turns to me and stares. “You’re MacKenzie, right?”
“Uh, yeah.”
She walks over and gives me a quick hug. “I’m Perri, Sam’s sister. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
I give her a hug back. “It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.”
“Don’t sweat it. We’ve spent more time in the emergency room waiting to hear about Sam than we can remember. Right, Mom?”
Nodding, Mrs. Stone says, “He was always doing something brave.”
“Brave? Mom, are you kidding me? The guy was always doing something stupid, s-t-u-p-i-d. Like jumping off the roof, or trying to climb to the top of an old tree and then falling out of the tree. Once he decided to learn to skateboard while his leg was broken and in a cast. He’s an idiot,” she deadpans and then giggles. “But I love that idiot.”
“I do, too,” I say before I can stop it.
“It’s hard not to love the guy.” Gill gives me the save I need. “But I expect you love him differently than we do.”
I nod. I can’t help it. I love him. “Even though he apparently sold all my stuff.”
Gill rolls his eyes. “Have a little faith, MacKenzie. Have a little faith.”
What the heck does he mean? Before I can ask, a woman in scrubs approaches me. “MacKenzie?”
“Yes, I’m MacKenzie.”
“Samuel is awake and asking for you.”
I look at his mom and frown. She should go in first—she’s his mom. She smiles at me, apparently reading my thoughts. “Go ahead, honey. I’ll go next.”
“Are you sure?” I don’t want to overstep. “You’ve known him the longest.”
She laughs. “I have known him the longest, honey. But he needs to see you first. Go on, sweetie. I’m fine. He wants to see you.”
I nod and follow the nurse.