Page 177 of Morally Corrupt

"That's good, isn't it?" I quickly ask, hopeful at the diagnosis.

"We don't know yet. The bullet did do damage in its trajectory. We can't yet gauge how the injury affected the patient, or if he'll wake up."

"What… do you mean if he'll wake up?"

"The brain is a sensitive organ. It really depends from case to case how the patient will recover. We're doing everything we can to ensure the best care for your husband. But you should, in any eventuality, prepare for the worst."

"Worst…?" I trail off.

"He may become brain dead… at any moment," the doctor professionally tells me. The blow is, nonetheless, lethal. I stumble back onto the bed, my hand going to my heart immediately. I'm trying to regulate my breathing when the doctor continues, "We've seen his file, and he is an organ donor. I wanted to let you know that…" I tune him out. Organ donor? Yeah, that sounds like my husband.

But that means… I can't deal with this.

No…

My hand shoots out and wraps itself around the doctor's throat.

"Youwillmake sure he lives. If not, I will hunt down everyone you care about, and I will put a bullet through their skulls. Are we clear?" I threaten in a steely voice. The doctor pales at my words and just nods numbly. I release him, and he scurries away.

Oh, Adrian…

I don't know how I make it to the waiting room on my shaky legs, but once I do, the sight of Marcel slumped against a wall greets me.

"You!" I spit out the words and watch as Marcel's head shoots up, his eyes widening at my presence.

"It's all your fault," I accuse him, launching myself at him. I don't even get to touch him as Marcel pales and flinches away, effectively avoiding my fist. "Fuck you!" I throw myself against him again, but this time, a firm grip holding me from behind stops me.

"Enough, B," Vlad whispers in my hair.

"You knew… you knew everything," I cry out at him and throw haphazard punches. Vlad takes it for a minute before restraining me.

"Stop." And I do… not because I want to, but because my body can't withstand the effort anymore. I sink into him and let my tears flow freely.

"How could you?" I keep on repeating. Vlad continues to stroke my hair, letting me purge my feelings through my tears.

A while later and after I've calmed down, the surgeon in charge of Adrian's case comes out to tell us the surgery's been a success.

"We still need to wait until wakes up to see if there have been any side effects from the bullet, or the surgery." He then tells us that Adrian will be moved to a private salon.

After they bring him to the salon, I tell the doctor that no one else is allowed to visit himbutme.

Marcel looks at me remorsefully, but I know Adrian wouldn't want to see him either. I could see it in his eyes when he'd learned that his trusted friend had been using him this whole time, something inside of him had died. I'm not about to put more stress on him when he needs to recover from such a severe injury. I also let Vlad know that I don't think it would be optimal for him to visit.

I can't say that I know precisely what Vlad's angle had been in all of this. But he hadn't seemed surprised at any of the revelations. I'm not sure I can trust him right now.

I make my own space inside the salon to watch over Adrian and only leave him for a little while when it's apparent that I'm missing many necessities.

I make a quick trip home and pack enough clothes and toiletries for a week and some weapons just in case anyone tries something. At this point, better be prepared.

The first day in the hospital passes without any change. The doctor informs me that some people take a little longer to wake.

And so, one day turns into two, and two turns into three, and still nothing.

I'm almost out of my mind worrying about Adrian that I haven't even had time to think about my own predicament.

On that third day, Vlad gives me a call and urges me to get my bloodwork done to check for the poison. I reluctantly agree and go through the process, but only because I'm still holding out hope that Adrian will wake.

If he doesn't… then what's the point of me living still?

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