“Great. You tell me when you’re ready.” Madison uses a wipe to blot around the wound and the base of the straw. It’s not drawing any more blood out, and I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not.
For a minute, I wonder if I really did do something to mess it up when we moved him.
Ty hesitates for a second, and then finally gives her the go ahead.
“Here we go, Ty. Remember to count. One hundred...ninety-nine...” she instructs, getting right to work.
“Ninety-eight.” His voice is shaky, and he fights hard not to cry as Madison tugs at the straw.
I give his hand a tight squeeze and count with him. “Ninety-seven...ninety-six...ninety-five...ninety-four...”
Ty is tough as nails as she slides the straw out, his whole body tightening. He lets out the smallest whimper when the last bit releases and she puts a piece of gauze over the incision. There’s a bit of blood, but nothing like before, and I pretend not to see the relief flood Madison’s faces.
“You’re doing great, buddy. Almost there.”
“One more big breath in for me.” Her voice is so gentle it’s almost calming me down, and I’m a bit in awe of her. She’s obviously very good at what she does, and she has Ty completely comfortable; unphased by all of this.
Ty takes a deep breath.
“Good. Ninety-three...ninety-two...ninety-one.” We all finish the last numbers together.
Madison smiles, snapping her gloves off empathically for effect. “All done!”
“That’s it?” Ty and I both say at the same time.
“Yep! You did great! And now all you have to do is lie here while your body starts to heal and watch all the movies and eat all the ice cream you want. Doctor’s orders.”
“Hear that buddy? You’re going to be feeling better in no time!” Hopefully, I sound more confident than I am. No stitches? No more tubing? She doesn’t seem like the type of person who would risk a child’s life just to get back at me, but it feels like there should be more.
“Why don’t we get started on that now?” Joe comes into the room and turns the TV on. He plops on the couch next to Ty, who dissolves into giggles. Joe is like an uncle to Ty, and the two are best of friends. We never would have survived the last few months if it hadn’t been for Joe and his wife, Sarah.
He smirks up at me and I let out a sharp laugh. “What? She said doctor’s orders.”
With Ty occupied, I help Madison clean up.
“You’re welcome.” There’s a familiar bite in her voice, all the gentleness and warmth she’d given to Ty completely gone.
“What?”
“I said you’re welcome. Usually, when someone willingly goes out of their way to help you, you would say thank you.”
It’s both odd and refreshing that she isn’t afraid of me. Despite me holding a gun to her head and kidnapping her this afternoon, she’s as feisty and argumentative as ever. There isn’t a person in my life I’d let get away with speaking to me the way she is, but I’ve got to admire the audacity.
I clench my jaw. “I wouldn’t exactly say you did it willingly.”
“Yeah, forcibly kidnapping someone kind of takes that option away.” She glares. “Speaking of which, I need to get going. Keep him on the IV for the next forty-eight hours and if everything looks good after that, you can take it out. I would suggest hiring someone to take care of his wounds and rehab. They’re going toneed to be dressed constantly for a while, and once he’s feeling up to it, he’ll need to build his strength up slowly.”
“You’re not going anywhere. At least not until I figure out what to do with you.” I might have gotten a little ahead of myself with this one. It isn’t like me to act without all the details seamlessly ironed out, so I’ll blame the desperation. I didn’t think about what I would do with her after the fact, just that I needed her right then.
“What are you talking about? You said if I saved him, you’d let me go.”
“What I said was if you saved him, I wouldn’t kill you.”
Madison’s face turns white, teeth sinking into her lip. “Roman, please. I swear, I won’t tell anyone about this. Just please let me go.”
Her pleas have me feeling things far past the logistical benefits of keeping her here, but I shove the thought away. Jesus, what’s wrong with me?
“Dante, can you show Madison to a room upstairs?”
