Page 17 of Love Op

“I swear, Mattie, if you try to run—”

“Yeah, yeah,” she droned. “You’ll tie me up and gag me. Always threatening me with a good time, Ghost.”

I smothered another smile. Goddammit, she had to stop doing that. “You already freed yourself from the zip ties, didn’t you?”

She shoved her very unbound hands through the sleeves of the sweatshirt. “Like it’s hard.”

I rolled my eyes. “Stay there. I’ll come get you.” I went around to her side of the car and opened her door. She dragged herself out, eyes bleary, and I put a hand under her arm to steady her. “How long have you been out of the cuffs?”

She shrugged, shuffling beside me as we walked across the nearly empty parking lot, past one faded gold sedan, to the sliding glass doors. “I broke them when you were walking around to get in the car before we left.”

“What?” I angled an incredulous look down at her. The fluorescent glow of the pharmacy lights cast a pallid shadow over her skin. “You’ve been free this whole time? And you’re not rubbing that in my face?”

“You’ve been on the struggle bus, Ghost. I don’t want to totally demoralize you,” she sniffed. Her eyes weren’t even on me. They were on the pharmacy, bouncing around as we walked through the doors, and apparently cataloging everything happening in the open space. A lot like I did, actually. Her light hair had long since come undone from its swishy ponytail, and it cascaded down her shoulders and pooled in the hood of the sweatshirt as she zombie-walked down the aisles with me. She did look half-dead, honestly.

I did a quick scan of the pharmacy, noting the clerk at the front desk of the convenience store portion of the building. The actual pharmacy had closed and looked dark. One older man stood in the antacids section, and beyond that, it was just Mattie and me. I kept a hand on her arm, partially so she didn’t dart off, but also because she seemed like she might topple into a shelf of vitamins any second.

As we reached the cold medicine section, Mattie snatched several boxes of blue “PM” cold medicine. “If I have to endure this bullshit, I’m not doing it lucid.”

I plucked the boxes from her hands and placed them back on the shelf. “Okay med school student, tell me why you can’t have those.”

“I know it might mix with whatever anesthetic you used, but I don’t give a fuck,” she grumbled, reaching for it. “I’d rather keel over from overdose than be conscious for this road trip.”

“It was midazolam, and correct.” I took it from her again and put “daytime,” orange pills in her palm instead.

She made a “pfft,” sound. “No known drug interactions between midazolam and doxylamine.”

“Don’t care.” I steered her away from the sleepy drugs. “I’m not going to be responsible for an accidental death of a very expensive heiress.”

“Can I get snacks?”

“Mattie,” I growled, pushing her toward the counter. “You can pick out a wa—” A crash to our right interrupted me, and we both turned toward the source of the sound.

The older man, dressed in a puffy black jacket, had fallen back against the shelf of the aisle he’d been in. He dropped a bottle of antacids as he slumped down with a groan. Her own illness forgotten, Mattie dashed across the pharmacy to him, and I pointed to the bewildered looking store clerk. “Call nine-one-one,” I told him. Nodding, he took out his phone, and I jogged over to Mattie.

She put her hands on the plump man’s arms, helping him into a prone position on the ground. “Sir? Can you tell me what’s wrong?” But the man had already gone unresponsive, and when I knelt next to her, she had her fingers on his neck as she tried to wake him up. “Sir, can you hear me?”

I took in his pallor, the sweat dotting his face, and the lack of movement from his chest. He wasn’t breathing. But before I could say a word, Mattie positioned herself with her knees on either side of his wide hips and began chest compressions with no hesitation. The man’s sternum cracked, but she didn’t falter. “Ask if they have an AED.”

I’d have to leave Mattie to do that. I hesitated a second, letting my eyes fall over her thin frame as she delivered well-timed compressions. I couldn’t let a man die—not even for two million dollars. If she escaped, then so be it. I stood, and bypassing the confused looking store clerk who stood on the phone with EMS, I did a quick search around the small pharmacy, starting at the front door and sweeping around the walls, looking for red. I found the small, glass case next to the fire alarm behind the clerk’s desk.

When I opened the microwave-sized door, an alarm sounded throughout the pharmacy—likely contacting EMS—and I pulled the red Automated External Defibrillator from the case before sprinting back to Mattie. She glanced up at me, still keeping a rhythm on the man’s chest. We locked eyes, and I saw in her gaze the answer to my silent question from moments before.

I’m not going to leave him to die, asshole.

I unzipped the red case and set it upright. As I turned on the machine, the automated voice chimed, “Remove all clothing from the patient’s chest.”

Mattie stopped, taking the machine from me. She had started coughing, and gestured, wordlessly for me to continue compressions. I positioned myself over the man, knowing full well that his chances of survival from what seemed like a massive coronary failure weren’t great. As I started compressions, Mattie fought against her coughing fit, reaching with shaking hands to unzip the man’s coat. I pushed her hands out of the way, pausing for precious seconds to shove his coat aside and rip his button-down open. The man had wiry, gray hair that matted his broad chest, and Mattie slapped the electrodes in place on his chest and down near his ribs before connecting them to the AED.

I moved away from him, and the AED cautioned us several times not to touch the man while it analyzed his heartbeat. I caught her gaze, and we shared a similar look. It didn’t look good. “It’ll try to detect a rhythm,” she whispered, staring down at the machine and then the still man.

“I know,” I replied softly. “Mattie… we need to go. EMS will be here soon.”

“I’m not just leaving him here,” she scowled.

Another hairline fracture shot straight through that hardened shell around my heart. I had assumed that because of her wealth and upbringing, Mattie was a spoiled, selfish person. But I realized now that I’d been way off the mark. Mattie was putting herself at risk here, and the concern furrowing her brows was genuine. I really might have to drag her away from saving this stranger. I sighed, and the machine beeped loudly before the female voice said, “Shock advised.”

“No shit,” I muttered.

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