Page 30 of His Gift
It's hard to reconcile the different sides of this man. One makes me want to run for the hills, the other makes me crave a future together. But both make him who he is. If I let him stay, I will have to accept them both. I'll have to accept what he's already done and believe he'll change for me. If I send him away, I know I will forever miss him. And I know he might not accept it. He might keep coming back until I cave or send him to prison for real.
Too exhausted to make sense of all my doubts, I just nestle back into his embrace, soaking up his presence and storing it up for a future that looks more than uncertain.
twenty-two
Harper
Idon't want to go to work. I want to burrow into Conrad's scent on his pillow and act like an ostrich.
And even though he's left me breakfast, I don't feel like eating. After today, I'll probably be dealing with a federal investigation and the consequences of my choices. I look at my phone, a breath away from calling him, telling him everything, and letting him deal with it. But I'm better than that. No matter what happens, I can't end up totally dependingon him. And he said he has a high opinion of me. I liked that. I know I can deal with this mess on my own.
I pick up my phone anyway and send him a message.
Thank you for breakfast. And thank you for listening to me.
He replies almost instantly.
I enjoy taking care of you. See you at dinner. Have a good day.
With a small smile at his unwavering despotism, I swing my legs out of bed, rub my eyes to wake myself up, and head to the bathroom. After a shower, I get ready, giving particular attention to my outfit for the day. A sort of superheroine costume to make me feel as if I can go into battle and come out unscathed.
The streets are filling with people headed to work when I exit my building. It takes a while to reach my job by public transport, but I'm still happy with my choice of finding an apartment in City Island. Way cheaper than living in the city, the neighborhood is safe and friendly, and my landlord has not caused me a single problem. And there are plenty of small shops, many of which stay open until late at night, where I can buy what I need even when my job gets crazy. I miss my car, though. I was so stupid to let Ben add his name to the car contract, so it serves me right that I have to take the subway.
A roar makes me turn: a battered, silver sedan is speeding my way. It's fucking pointing at me. A glint of sunlight off its dirty windshield is the last thing I see before I sprint. With only a few seconds to spare, I point toward the nearest shop, hoping to be fast enough to hide inside. I'm not fast enough. The car slams into my left side, sending me flying through the air. I don't really feel it when I land. Then the sound of approaching footsteps grows louder. The voices grow louder. And finally the pain blooms, a searing wave starting in my left ankle and rising slowly like a string of Christmas lights being lit one by one. Sirens. More voices. I'm strapped to a stretcher, and paramedics ask me questions I don't have enough air in my lungs to answer. But my brain is spinning like a demented wheel. It wasn't an accident. Someone wanted me dead, and I can think of only one reason for that.
"Splenic LAC. Head trauma. Broken shoulder. Broken ankle. Broken. Broken. Broken."
They flash a light in my eyes, and finally I find the strength to talk. To tell them it wasn't an accident and that they have to call the FBI. Not the cops. The FBI. And they must tell them I discovered my company is laundering money for the mob. I don't know if they heard me, if they understood,if it was even a good idea to tell them. But a nurse smiles and says to stay calm, that she'll take care of everything. I'm fine with it. The pain is gone, courtesy of the pain meds they must have given me, and I can't really do anything more right now. I just want to sleep.
"She will wake up soon, Agent, but she should rest. We don't even know if what she said was true or because of the trauma to her head. She had a significant swelling in her brain and it's already a miracle it went down so fast and on its own."
"I understand. I need to ask just a few questions if she agrees. I can't be here the whole day. I need to confirm this is something pertaining to my office."
The sterile scent of antiseptic and the faint, rhythmic beeping of machines fill the room. It's a cold, clinical sound, in stark contrast to the chaos that surrounded me what feels like just moments ago. But since the FBI is here, it must have been a while.
I clear my throat and both the doctor and the agent stare at me. And I nod. I don't have enough energy for small talk. I need to tell my tale to this blonde Valkyrie who looks like she would slay my enemies with a flick of her long arms. Then I want to go back to sleep. Everything feels heavy,uncomfortable. The pain just hidden behind a thin veil of drug-induced haze.
"Miss Schmidt, I'm agent Vance. We've received a phone call from the ER—"
I shush her with a wave, then point to a chair. She smiles and moves the chair closer to my bed before turning to the doctor.
"We'll be done in fifteen minutes, I promise. Now, if you don't mind…"
The doctor makes a face, but I nod again, and he leaves.
It takes a few tries before I can find my voice, and agent Vance has to call my name a few times because I keep losing my train of thought, but in the end I'm able to deliver the entire story in what I believe to be a good enough summary of all the key points.
"My colleague, Paula Wilkinson, knows. You need to check on her."
"Is she the only one who knows? Can someone in your company have found out you were snooping around?"
"I don't know." If they did, they might have tried to cover their tracks, but it's not my job finding out. It's Agent Vance's. I want to go back to sleep.
"Last question. Do you trust Miss Wilkinson?"
"Yes." I do. I did. But I told her yesterday and today they tried to get rid of me. "The car?" It's getting more difficult to talk.
"According to the witnesses, the driver tried to reverse, but there were too many people gathered, so he abandoned the vehicle and fled on foot.He was wearing a ski mask, so no one saw his face, but they all agree he was a man."
