Ripple Effect

by J. Bengtsson

  From the back, Conrad raised his hand. I pointed to him. “Yeah, how did RJ Contreras end up in your parking garage?”

  “RJ is Chad.”

  The twins both rocked back in their seats in unison. “Chad Woodcock?”

  “Yep.”

  “Wait—are you talking about that douchey neighbor?” Simone asked.

  “Yes. Chad was RJ in disguise.”

  Otis looked about ready to explode. “So you’re telling me you’ve been living next door to RJ Contreras and didn’t know it?”

  I nodded.

  “Not only that,” Charlie said, “but she’s been having daily face-to-face arguments with him for five months and still didn’t recognize him.”

  “He had a beard,” I feebly defended myself.

  “I told you it was an alias, didn’t I?” Conrad replied, folding his arms over his chest and adopting a smug expression.

  Ross high-fived Charlie. “Chad Woodcock rocks!”

  “I’m so confused,” Reese said. “Who did you save? RJ or Chad?”

  “They’re one and the same,” Otis replied. “Try to follow along, Octomom.”

  “I have two babies in here. I’m not incubating an army.”

  Kaia, the shyest swimmer in the group, spoke up from her spot in the corner. “What are you going to do now?”

  I shrugged. “Wait here at the hospital until he wakes up. It’s really all I can do.”

  “Do you think he’ll want to see you when he wakes up?” she asked.

  The thought hadn’t crossed my mind, but now that it had been asked, I wasn’t so sure myself. Would he need me now? Would I matter in his big, important life? But I thought I knew RJ well enough to answer her question with confidence. “Yes, Kaia, I think I’ll be the first person he’ll want to see.”

  “Ah, you’re so lucky,” she said, stars twinkling in her eyes.

  “Lucky and unlucky,” Otis said, weighing the two options with his hands. “She did have to nearly die to get his attention, and that’s never a recommended first date icebreaker.”

  “You want my advice?” Conrad asked, staring at me with his characteristic intensity.

  “Always.”

  “With a high-profile celebrity in the hospital, there’s going to be extra security on his floor. If you don’t want to get kicked out of here, sit back, stay silent, and blend. And keep that wristband on.”

  I nodded, filing away his suggestions. After securing assurance from my siblings that they wouldn’t repeat the story I’d told them, they trickled out of the hospital one by one until only Simone remained. “Are you sure I can’t stay with you?”

  “No. I have a better chance of getting past security alone.”

  “I know, but I hate to leave you after what you’ve been through.”

  I held up my phone, newly updated with my contacts. “But now I have a phone and can reach you.”

  “That’s true. Here.” She pressed cash into my hand. “Take this for food.”

  I hugged her. “You’re the best.”

  “I know.” She winked, swatting my butt before walking away. “Now we’re adjourned.”

  I found myself a nice little cubby in the ICU waiting room, a spot where I could watch everyone coming and going. The goal was to find and then introduce myself to RJ’s family. It seemed the only way into his inner circle, even if, according to RJ, they hadn’t been a part of it for many years. But I understood that family ties could be a tricky thing, and I reminded myself to keep an open mind. There were always two sides to every story, and maybe RJ was just too close to his to see clearly.

  An hour passed, maybe two, which I spent most of googling RJ and his family on my new phone. What surprised me most was that for the high-volume public figure that RJ was, as well as the sheer number of pictures of him on the internet, I couldn’t find even one image of them together as a family. The other AnyDayNow boys were photographed beside their next of kin, but not RJ. Never RJ.

  Murmuring in the waiting room caught my attention. I looked up to see a press conference commencing on the TV overhead. I moved closer, wanting to hear what was being said. With the backdrop of our apartment building, now a pile of rubble, the police chief went on to describe the state of things after the 7.1 magnitude monster earthquake had roared through her city. Lasting just over twenty seconds, the temblor and its many aftershocks had caused widespread damage. Sections of major freeways had collapsed. Buildings had fallen, although none as dramatically as ours. Roads had spilt in two. Even a tsunami warning had been issued, putting the entire coastline on alert. And the loss of life… there was no doubt in anyone’s mind it would be staggering.

  “As far as the reports circulating about popular boy band member RJ Contreras,” the police chief continued, “we can confirm that he was in the parking garage of the building behind me when the earthquake struck and subsequently became trapped inside. We can also confirm that he was pulled free from the rubble by another survivor less than an hour before the building collapsed. RJ was taken to the hospital, where he has undergone surgery for a range of injuries. He’s currently in the intensive care unit. I have no further information on his condition at this time.”

  One by one, major players stepped up to the microphone to discuss disaster relief plans, road closures, the Red Cross. I lost interest then, secure in the knowledge that my siblings had provided me with all the assistance I needed. It wasn’t until reporters started firing questions that my interest was piqued once more.

  My sources tell me that RJ was forced to amputate his own leg to escape the wreckage because rescue workers were not allowed in the building to rescue those trapped inside?

  RJ was the only survivor pulled from the rubble. Did he receive preferential treatment because he’s a celebrity?

  “I’m not authorized to speak to RJ’s medical condition. I will say that the decision to not allow the rescue efforts to continue was a heavy blow for our brave first responders, who were ready and willing to step inside the building and save whoever they could. As hard as it was, we believe we prevented further loss of life with the difficult decision. And there was no preferential treatment. RJ was not rescued by our first responders. He was rescued by a young woman who was with him at the time of the collapse.”

  That piece of information sent the crowd into a frenzy, with questions coming from all corners.

  What do we know about this woman?

  Can we get a name?

  “The young woman is not a public figure and has not consented to her name being distributed to news outlets. But I would like to commend her. This woman showed an incredible amount of bravery, risking her own safety to help RJ escape the building. That’s all for now. I’ll update you when we have further details.”

  I watched the police chief walk away, spellbound by what he’d said. They were protecting me, maybe even protecting the firefighters, if they knew about their involvement at all. This story was bigger than I ever could have imagined, and I was sure the quake would set off a ripple effect that could very well alter my life for good. Was I ready for that? Maybe on RJ’s arm I’d be okay, but on my own, I wasn’t so sure the frenzied press wouldn’t eat me alive.

  Giving up on the news, I went back to my row of chairs and lay down. With my head resting on my hands and my feet tucked up under me on the hard, unforgiving seat, the events of the day finally caught up to me, and I fell fast asleep. How long I slept I couldn’t say, but I was jerked awake by an aftershock that sent startled gasps around the waiting room. I shot upright, smacking my head on the armrest.

  “Ow,” I whined, rubbing my skull while taking a glance around at my fellow waiters. Most looked as startled as me, but there was one…

  I narrowed in on her, my eyes popping open when I realized who it was sitting by herself in a row of seats opposite mine: Heather Contreras. Two things immediately stood out about her. One, she seemed not to be affected by the trembler at all, going about her business like nothing was wrong. And two,
she did not look like the monster RJ had described her to be. But then, the worst ones never did.

  With her head down, Heather was fixated on the screen of her phone as her thumb scrolled. I wondered what she was looking for. Did I have the answers she was seeking? For one fleeting moment, I wondered if she might be googling me, like I’d googled her earlier in the day. From that search, I knew certain facts about her. She was fifty-two years old, a Scorpio, and listed her occupation as ‘RJ Contreras’s mom,’ which according to her son was a fairly accurate job description, given she was on his payroll. With tight blond curls that reached to her shoulders and skin tanned to rawhide, Heather gave off the impression of a woman who’d been wild in her youth but had since come into a wad of cash and was now on the board of directors at the local country club. Damn, I could smell the judgment wafting off me. I had to get that negativity in check or I wouldn’t be able to gain her trust. And without Heather’s trust, I’d never get an invitation to her son’s bedside.

  I stood up and crossed the room, stopping a few feet away.

  “Mrs. Contreras?”

  She lifted her eyes for a split second then went back to scrolling on her phone.

  “I’m a friend of RJ’s.”

  Heather lowered her glasses a smudge to peer at me over the rims. “Aren’t you all. Who let you in here?”

  “Oh… I… let myself…”

  “Only immediate family of ICU patients are allowed. You never should have been let through the doors. I’ll have a talk with security about this,” she replied with the haughty awareness of a woman who got what she wanted all the time.

  Holy crap, she was intimidating, and that came from someone who had grown up with an intimidating mother. But at least mine pretended to be nice to strangers, only talking behind their backs when they weren’t around. Heather was all front-end intimidation.

  “Mrs. Contreras, I was admitted to the hospital earlier in the day,” I tried again, offering up my wristband as proof. “With RJ.”

  Now Heather raised her head, removing her reading glasses to get a better look at me. “Please tell me you’re not the one who cut my son’s foot off.”

  I rocked back, shocked by the stark accusation.

  At my silence, her eyes widened. “Oh, my god, you are!”

  “I was with him in the parking garage, yes. But RJ made the decision.”

  “RJ? He made the decision? To cut his own foot off? Listen to yourself. Do you think I’m dumb? Do you think I don’t know my own son?”

  Her anger fueled my own. “I think maybe you don’t know what it feels like to be desperate and about to die.”

  You would’ve thought I’d stabbed a knife into her gut the way her expression turned murderous. But years now dealing with mamma bears protecting their young had insulated me from such attacks.

  “We were told to evacuate, that the building was about to come down. RJ was trapped, his foot crushed under concrete. He did what he had to do to survive.”

  “No,” she snarled. “You did what you wanted to. Not him. My son would rather die than live his life as a cripple.”

  “I took over, but only after the pain got too much for RJ. Don’t you understand? I couldn’t let him suffer like that. Someone had to get him free.”

  “Oh, and you’re that someone?” she scoffed. “What a savior you are.”

  Wow, this was not going according to plan. Now I knew where Chad Woodcock got his fighting spirit. But if I hadn’t backed down from him, I sure as hell wasn’t going to back down from his unreasonable mother.

  “Maybe if I explained to you what happened in…”

  “I don’t need to know,” she cut me off. “According to the doctors, you made such a mess of his ankle, they had to amputate it even further up.”

  I winced at the memory of that moment cutting through tendons and bone. Did she really think that was something I’d wanted to do?

  “And you understand the alternative would’ve been a dead son, right?” I questioned, pointing to the television with images of our collapsed building. “Because if I’d left RJ in there with a partially amputated foot, you’d be burying him.”

  Heather’s eyes lasered into mine as she dropped her voice to a low growl. “Watch your tone with me. You don’t think I haven’t dealt with your kind before? There’s nothing special about you. You’re not even that pretty. If you think RJ’s going to fall madly in love with you, then you’re sadly mistaken. I know my son, and RJ doesn’t love anyone. Never has. So don’t think you have some direct line, you little tart. I have the direct line.”

  What in the living hell? Had Heather just made this some warped competition? And to disrespect RJ like that, implying he wasn’t capable of love! In a perfect world, I would have let her insult go unchallenged. I would have held my head high and walked away. But after the events of today, there was no perfect world, and I had no obligation to keep my mouth shut.

  Leaning forward, I spoke for her ears only. “Have you ever thought that maybe he just doesn’t love you?”

  It was dangerous, cutting, and the second the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Not because I didn’t think them true, but because I’d just made a powerful enemy. I’d secured my place at the back of the line. Heather would never allow me to see her son now.

  Her eyes locked on mine, Heather stood up. “You just picked a fight with the wrong person.”

  As I watched her walk away, I knew without a doubt that Heather would make me pay.

  Minutes later, I was being escorted out of the hospital doors.

  20

  RJ: Patient Privilege

  I came to behind a long white curtain. I wasn’t sure how long I lay there, blinking up at the ceiling and trying to figure out where the hell I was, but it seemed a long damn while. Was I dead? Was this Albert’s heaven? If so, I was decidedly underwhelmed. Where was my halo? And my dead dog, Bobo? And what the hell was that moaning going on behind the curtain to my right?

  As my mind cleared of the drugs, I realized that the beeping of machines, accompanied by the dull, aching pain in my ribs, meant I was very much alive. And then I remembered. My foot! Jerking my head off the pillow, I looked down at my drastically shortened, and heavily bandaged, leg and let out a curse that would’ve made Triple A cringe.

  A nurse rushed in.

  “Hey, relax. Just lie back,” he said, shoving the oxygen tubes back in my nose. “If you take these out, the doctor might be forced to intubate you again.”

  I pointed down at my leg and forced the words out of my raw, swollen throat. “What happened to the rest of it?”

  “You don’t remember cutting it off?” he asked incredulously.

  Of course I remembered. It wasn’t like the severing of it wouldn’t live on in my memory forever. That shit was what nightmares were made of. No, I wasn’t surprised my foot was gone; I was surprised that it was considerably shorter than where Dani had hacked it off for me.

  “There’s like two extra inches gone.” The accusatory tone of my voice somehow transferred all the responsibility for those extra missing inches onto the mild-mannered ICU nurse tasked with caring for me.

  “Let me get the doctor for you,” he said, hurrying out of the curtained room.

  “You better run, dude,” I mumbled under my breath, wishing I had something to chuck at his retreating frame.

  “Try to be a little nicer,” the moaner on the other side of the curtain said. “Julio is just doing his job.”

  What the…? She sounded old as fuck, and normally I’d humor her just for the fact that she was old as fuck, but not today. I had no humanity left for the before-dusk dinner crowd.

  “Try to mind your own business,” I grumbled through gritted teeth. “And if you wouldn’t mind keeping that moaning to a minimum, Myrtle, that would be just swell. I feel like I’m in some fucking porno.”

  Silence ensued. Even the beeping machines seemed to take a momentary break, no doubt fearing my wrath. And then the strangest soun
d came from the curtained room on my right. Laughter. Then moaning. Then more laughter. And more moaning. I wasn’t sure if she was having an orgasm or dying.

  “Oh my,” she said, through a spattering of giggles. “You’re a chip off the old block, aren’t you?”

  That got my attention right away. Just exactly which block was she referring to? “What does that mean?”

  “Let me put it this way. If your mamma is Satan, you’re the spawn.”

  My eyes widened. Well, shit. She was definitely speaking from experience, which meant dear old gold-digging mom had been here. Who’d let that woman in?

  “How do you know my mother?” I asked, a cast of suspicion now settling into my words.

  “I don’t know her. I just know of her. She’s a little hard to ignore. Has the entire staff terrified.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not her,” I grumbled, although I could see how she might have assumed that, based on performance. “I’m just having a bad day. Not that you care, but my foot’s gone.”

  “Not that you care, but my breast is gone.”

  How was that for evening the score? I had no rebuttal. Dammit, what was wrong with me? The first chance I had to prove myself a whole new man and I’d spent it being a jerk. If I wanted to rise above the noise of my former life, I had to first meet people where they stood.

  “Cancer?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she replied. “Earthquake?”

  “Yes. How’d you guess?”

  “Most everyone in here was injured in the quake. I picked the wrong day for a mastectomy.”

  The way she said it, with just the tiniest bit of snark, beckoned a smile from my lips. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.

  “I’m sorry for being a jerk,” I said, taking those first few steps toward humility. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you… or Julio.”