Chapter 14 #4
“He is fine. This is a big setback in terms of time. I have to get to Reed. Three weeks is too long.” Her attention flits far away, probably going over the plans in her head, recalculating to include this extended time.
She reaches over and presses the buttons on the wire connected to her vein.
When she catches my disapproving eye, she shrugs. “I do not want to be drugged-up.”
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Sure, but the drugs don’t heal me faster, they make the pain tolerable. I want to be cognizant of my pain level so I can track my convalescence accurately, and get out of here sooner.”
Taylor doesn’t possess a neutral gear. It’s always forward forward forward. I nod toward the bandage on her arm. “What did it feel like? Being shot?”
“Not great.” She smirks at me. “I didn’t know it happened at first. It felt like someone punched me with a hot metal fist. Then it burned.
I was still running on enough adrenaline to continue, but the burning was intense.
Like a cattle prod on each of the wounds, digging beneath the skin.
” She uses her good arm to reach for water and takes a sip.
“The strange part is, whoever shot me did not intend to kill me.”
“They shot you three times. Sounds intentional to me.”
“It is no bout of good luck that she missed major organs but managed to incapacitate me. It is what I would do, if I were trying to use violence as a messenger. I mean, I had no headgear on. If she had shot me in the head, Mason and I would be dead.”
I’ll never get used to Taylor’s nonchalance about her own mortality. Pondering her demise fills me with the same dread as pondering my own. “What message is she sending by laying you up in a hospital bed?”
Taylor shrugs. “I believe we were specifically targeted. They may know I was the one who led the troops in the MidRegion. Maybe they know I killed Thorne. Maybe it’s because of you. Somehow, they know I am important to the Order. It is a power play, at the very least. And a good one.”
I snort. “You sound like you’re impressed.”
“I am. I am not an easy target, Lucy. She hit me three times, in places carefully calculated to incapacitate but minimize damage. It is enough circumstantial evidence to make known to Theia.”
“Make what known to Theia?” Delilah asks, strolling in beside a candy striper who cheerfully delivers us breakfast.
Taylor uses her good arm to spoon herself a portion of rather unfortunate-looking oatmeal. “The people who ambushed us.”
“And how Taylor believes she and Mason were specifically targeted and left incapacitated on purpose, rather than dead,” I say as I sip my coffee.
Expression going cold, Delilah nods. “It is worth considering. The tide of this war has taken a dramatic turn in our favor. They may sense the shift of power and are trying to get Theia’s attention. Whoever they are, my people will find them.”
About a half an hour later, Doctor Michael returns to the room with a great big smile. “All right. It’s time to re-dress your wounds and do some extremely light mobility exercises.”
Re-dressing Taylor’s wounds means undressing her, so I excuse myself before it gets awkward. “Delilah, could you point me in the direction of Mason? Is he awake?”
“He may be sleeping, but he’s conscious,” the doctor confirms, scanning Taylor’s chart. “He’s downstairs in room two-oh-four with a woman.”
“Maria,” Delilah says. I remember her being fairly inconsolable when Mason went back to Detroit after they were safely transported to Lansing. “Tell her I said to go home and sleep. I want you to do the same.”
“But I—” But I what? I don’t need to be here. Taylor has to recuperate and I can’t help her. I can’t help anyone. “Okay.”
Mason’s room is sterile compared to Taylor’s plush accommodations. White walls, white sheets, white curtains. A young woman lies slumped in a chair next to him as he slumbers in his bed when I enter. His right arm is over the blanket and his left arm…his left arm is gone below his elbow.
Maria startles out of her sleep and blinks a pair of dark, bleary eyes at me. Once she realizes who I am, she’s not happy about it.
“Hell no,” she says, practically pushing me out the door. After glancing at Mason, she gives me a hard up-and-down. “What are you doing here?”
Apparently, getting accosted. I bite back the remark. I’m sure this girl is stressed out. I understand. “I came to check on Mason. How’s he doing?”
“Like you care.”
“Of course I care.”
“None of you care about that man until he can do something for you,” she says with an accusatory glare.
“He never should’ve gone to Detroit after that idiot.
But no, he has to follow her into the fire.
Nearly get killed. Meanwhile she’s sitting pretty over there, Delilah’s darling in her executive suite. ”
“I can assure you she did everything she could. She nearly died getting them to safety.”
“Oh, right, she did everything she could.” Maria laughs caustically.
“You know, everyone acts like she’s this brilliant solider.
Even Mason can’t do nothing but be nice about her.
And for what? What she done that’s so special?
She fucked up your daddy’s assassination.
She attracted tons of attention at Thorne’s place.
She got Faith killed. She got my boyfriend’s hand blown off.
And yet we’re supposed to worship her because she’s Theia’s girl? Fuck that. Fuck her. And fuck you too.”
Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply through my nose to calm down.
The primal, hereditary urge to protect and attack is suppressed.
“If you don’t want me to see Mason, I will respect that.
He’s always been kind to me, right from the beginning, even when he had no reason to be.
I want him to know I’m here for him too. ”
Maria stares me down, big eyes taking me in, sizing me up. “Fine. I’ll clean up, try to sleep. If you wanna go in, fine. It’s real hard when the most important person in your life isn’t treated as important by anyone else. And now he’s gonna get sent back to HQ alone, forgotten again.”
“What if you went with him?” I pose. “If I could clear it with Delilah and Theia, you could go back with him.”
Maria appears as if she wants to take hold of the hope I’m giving her, but she eyes it warily. “You think so? Could that happen? He’s got no family. I know he’s got friends back home, but everyone is busy as hell.”
“I can’t promise you they’ll agree, but I can promise you I will ask and do my best to convince them both.” I pause. “Delilah won’t be a hard sell, but Theia likes me about as much as you do.”
Maria looks up and finally a weak smile breaks through on her face. “I’d appreciate it a lot.”
“No problem. Are you sure you don’t mind if I sit with him?”
“He’d want to see you,” she admits with reluctance. “I’ll come back later.”
I watch her go before entering Mason’s room. Occupying the chair she vacated, I give his shoulder a squeeze to rouse him. He awakens quickly—Taylor does that too—and finds me with a smile. “Luce.”
“Hey, Mason. Can I hang out?”
“Sure.” He uses his good arm to turn on the television. “Where’d Maria go?”
“She stepped out. Get some sleep, maybe bring you back sustenance other than hospital food,” I say, nodding to his pathetic tray of gruel.
“She give you a hard time?” The wince in his eyes makes it obvious he knows the answer.
“Yes, but I’ve gotten a lot of practice in the last few months with tiny, ferociously stubborn women who don’t like me.”
Mason chuckles. “She doesn’t mean it. She’s a good person.”
“She must be to get you to settle down, lothario.” I nudge his shoulder. “Delilah and I had a lot of late-night chats. Some of which included the ongoing drama of you and your trail of broken hearts.”
“Damn, she doing me dirty, airing my laundry out like that. I was always a gentleman.”
“Uh-huh. But Maria is different.”
“Maria grew up on the streets, like me. She’s the toughest woman I’ve ever met. Took me a long time to earn her trust, and even longer to get her to love me.” He hazards a glance at his shortened arm. “Now she’s stuck with a cripple.”
“She didn’t fall in love with you because you had two working hands.”
He gives me a knowing look. “Didn’t hurt.”
I snort. “No, I’m sure it didn’t. But—you’ve been through worse, yeah?”
“Yeah, I guess. Losing one arm ain’t much against losing two parents,” he says, his barrel chest rising and falling beneath the pilling, thick cotton blanket. “And my sister.”
I lean in and rest my head near his shoulder. “Tell me about them.”
“My family?”
“Yeah.”
“All right, sure.” He looks at me, smiling warmly. “Thanks.”