Chapter Forty-One Even Houdini Needed an Assistant
West
When I finally come to, I find myself handcuffed to a hospital bed. Talk about kinky.
I pretend to sleep, taking in my surroundings through the briefest glimpses.
I’m hooked up to all sorts of monitoring equipment, the machine at my bedside beeping every now and then.
I’m alright for the most part, though incredibly sore.
Whatever painkillers they have me on are doing an excellent job of muting the ache in my back and shoulder.
I’m not the only one in the room. A police officer and a nurse speak in hushed French.
“When will he wake?” the officer asks.
“I’m not sure, sir. Though it shouldn’t be too long now.”
“And you’re sure he had no ID on him?”
“None at all. And the security cameras didn’t catch anything about the people who dropped him off because it was so dark.”
The officer groans. “This patient is our only lead. Be sure to tell me the moment he wakes. I have a lot of questions to ask him.”
“Yes, of course.”
I do my best not to react despite my relief. I gather that means Adelina and the others must have gotten away. Now the question remains: How do I get out of here and catch up with them?
My plan is nothing elaborate. I’ll wait for the nurse to go about her checks, and I’ll slip out the door the moment I’m left unsupervised.
The only problem is that I’m in a breezy, paper-thin hospital gown and I have no idea where they’ve put my clothes.
I doubt I’ll get very far with my backside exposed.
There’s also the added challenge of my handcuffs.
I can’t pick them open if I don’t have any of my tools on me.
Not ideal, but not impossible either. I’m going to have to give it some more thought.
Once the nurse finishes scribbling her notes on my chart, I fully expect her to leave, providing me with a window of opportunity. Except…
Except she doesn’t do that.
“Ah, finally,” she says when her wristwatch beeps. “Time for my break.”
I’m sure this hospital has a perfectly nice lunchroom, but for some reason, she decides to claim the room’s spare chair and park herself beside me. She leans back and turns on the small TV that’s mounted to the wall. “You don’t mind, do you?” she titters.
I pretend to remain sleeping. Are you kidding me right now?
The nurse flips through the channels until she ends up on the news. The much-too-serious anchors deliver the night’s breaking headlines.
“—Valentino Berruci is considered one of the most significant arrests by interpol in nearly a decade. Sources say that an anonymous leak provided authorities with damning evidence of Berruci’s involvement in racketeering, weapons smuggling, money laundering and bribery.
He was arrested alongside Joseph Demarr, who is known to police.
Demarr has entered into a plea deal against Berruci in exchange for partial sentencing. ”
Ha. Why am I not surprised? I guess Joseph’s loyalty is only worth as much as a person can pay, and with Berruci cleaned out, there’s really no reason to stick his neck out for the bastard.
I lose interest when the anchors move on to lighter topics like international sports news. I lie there impatiently, waiting for the nurse to leave. Doesn’t she have other patients to attend to? Doctors to assist?
“Code blue on four,” a man’s voice announces over the hospital’s speaker system. He sounds…strangely familiar, though I can’t be entirely sure. Maybe it’s the painkillers muddling my brain, but I could swear he sounds exactly like Allistair. “Code blue on four,” the man repeats.
The nurse who so graciously helped herself to my TV stands and leaves, responding to the code with urgency.
Finally.
As soon as the door to the room clicks shut, I throw off my thin blanket and inspect the handcuff chaining my left hand to the frame of the hospital bed.
It’s a standard make, nothing too complicated.
If only I had a pin or something just as slender to work my magic.
I look around the room, searching for a viable tool, but am dismayed to find there’s very little in the room to begin with.
I suppose if I’m desperate enough, I could pull a Houdini and resort to temporarily dislocating my thumb so I can slip my whole hand through the cuff, but just the thought is enough to make me grimace.
Recovery time can take weeks, and I’d rather not deal with the discomfort, so I file it away as a last resort.
I’ve been in tighter spots before. There has to be something I can do to escape.
“Come on,” I grumble to myself. “Think.”
Before I get the chance, I hear footsteps approach my door. Someone fiddles with the doorknob, the hinges creaking lightly as they push it open, offering me the briefest glimpse of a woman in light-blue scrubs. The nurse again. Quick to maintain my cover, I throw my blanket back on and go still.
I’m vaguely aware of her to my right as she checks on my vitals. Push comes to shove, I could always try to charm her into letting me go, but I doubt I’ll get very far with the police sniffing around.
“How long do you plan on playing possum?”
I crack an eye open, grinning wide when I recognize her voice. Adelina. She’s dressed as a nurse, her outfit complete with a fake ID badge clipped to her pocket. “Took a page out of my book, did you?”
She shrugs. “If it works, it works.”
“God, I missed you.”
Adelina laughs softly. “It’s only been a day.”
“I said what I said.”
She reaches into her pocket and produces a proper lockpick, handing it to me so I can make quick work of my handcuff. The second I’m free, I cup her face and pull her down into a deep kiss, relishing the warmth of her skin and the scent of her floral shampoo.
“How are you feeling?” she asks me in a whisper.
“Not going to lie, I’m in a lot of pain. Joseph’s a terrible shot, though. I think most of the bullet’s momentum was absorbed by the passenger-side window, so it didn’t end up going too deep. I overheard the doctors say I’ll be stiff for a while, but I’ll make a full recovery.”
“Thank goodness,” Adelina sighs. “I can’t believe you threw yourself in front of me like that.”
“Heroic, I know.”
“I was going to say fucking stupid, but whatever works.”
I press my forehead to hers. “I don’t regret it.”
“Do you feel well enough to move?”
“Yes. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
After I carefully unhook myself from all the monitoring equipment and gingerly remove my IV—unlike in the movies, you’re not supposed to just rip that shit out—Adelina hands me a pair of scrubs that she snuck in with her.
I came in as a patient, but I’ll be leaving under the guise of hospital staff.
With a doctor’s cap to cover my hair and a mask to conceal my face, I easily slip out of the room beside Adelina, both of us unnoticed as we start our trek down the hall.
My injury makes walking uneasy, every step bringing with it a dull, aching stab.
But we can’t give up now that we’re just about to reach the elevators.
Out of the corner of my eye, I happen to spot Allistair and his brother, Elliot, who’s up and about with the help of some crutches. Allistair tips his head in acknowledgement, his smile appreciative. I nod back at him. So it was him that I heard over the speakers. Looks like I owe him one.
“Who are they, brother?” Elliot asks.
“Good people,” Allistair replies.
Adelina and I get on the elevator, and she all but jams the button for the ground floor.
We’re in the final stretch, and we’re both practically vibrating out of our skin to make a run for it.
When we get to the ground floor, there’s nothing to stand in our way.
The two of us walk out, slipping into the waiting car that Michael’s parked beside the curb.
Lily is in the passenger seat, looking equal parts relieved and understandably concerned.
Diana is in the back, already opening the door for us.
“Doctors,” she greets as we buckle up.
We drive away without a hitch.