Chapter 1
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Maxwell
Pain.
Pain starting at the top of my head, extending all the way to the tip of my toes. Everything hurts.
It is the only thought in my head as I struggle to pry open my eyes. Through herculean effort, I get them open a crack but immediately close them against the blinding light in the room.
Shit.
It is way too bright.
Did I forget to close the curtainslast night?
I reach for the remote that closes them, but my arm won’t move. Someone clears their throat on the other side of the room, but the intensity of the light prevents me from opening my eyes again. It doesn’t, however, stop me from wondering who is strange enough to be watching me sleep.
But then, I am far too tired to worry about it for long.
Something beeps loudly behind me.
That is odd.
I don’t remember ever hearing that sound in my bedroom before, but it is curiously familiar.
I try to shift my weight enough to roll over and go back to sleep, but searing pain consumes me. I wince and groan at the unexpected feeling, trying but failing to bring my hand up to investigate the source of the pain. Chair legs screech on the floor as I try to open my mouth, but before I can complain, a wave of exhaustion rolls over me and my consciousness fades away.
* * *
“When is he going to wake up?”
“That is really up to him. We have taken him off of the sedation medication, so now we just have to wait and see what his body is going to do. It could be today, tomorrow, or several days from now.”
What the hell is going on?
I struggle to open my eyes, but they don’t cooperate. I cannot figure out who is talking or what they are talking about, but for some reason, it feels like it has something to do with me.
I want to order these strangers to get the hell out of my room, but instead, the steady beeping catches my attention and lulls me back to sleep.
* * *
“It is taking too long. He is an important man with important decisions to make. I know you have the technology to bring him around. Do it now,” a familiar voice says forcefully.
“What is your relationship to the patient?”
“I am his assistant, Ethan Wilson,” he says from somewhere to my left. I manage to make my head turn slightly in his direction, but my eyes still won’t budge.
“Well, Mr. Wilson, I am afraid we can’t do that. Mr. Banks needs his rest. He sustained several life-threatening injuries during the accident. He is lucky to even be alive. His body needs this time to recover. Now, if you can’t be quiet, I am going to have to ask you to leave.”
Accident? What accident?
“I understand that, but—”
“But nothing. He will wake up when he is ready. Until then, we are going to monitor him and let him heal. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ethan says unhappily.