CHAPTER 29
Manhattan
Mount Sinai West hospital
Friday, October 17, 2014
3:30 a.m.
Markus was sitting for a long time on the edge of a sofa, his back rigid, and staring straight ahead.
“Son.”
He looked up to his father. “Yes?”
“I am sorry,” Elijah said. “Truly sorry.”
He shrugged at his father’s umpteenth apology. Putting his elbows on his knees, Markus pressed his fingers to his temples. Although he felt largely disassociated from his body, a dim part of his brain was aware of a pounding in his head like a jackhammer.
That pain was nothing compared to the one squeezing his heart. He closed his eyes against a crash of grief. But all he could see was Hannah’s eyes so full of tears and pain.
After being stabilized at Southampton Hospital, she was air-lifted to Mount Sinai Hospital, as the bullet had lodged in the scapula, breaking it, and the doctors needed to realign the bone fragments and secure them in place with screws and metallic plates.
She was still in surgery, four hours later.
“Markus, I brought clean clothes for you.” Judith sat beside him and awkwardly patted his shoulder. “Come on, Son. She’s young and healthy and—”
“Fuck that!” He pushed from the sofa. “Fuck that!”
“Language, Markus!” Judith admonished.
And fuck you, too! He whirled around but swallowed the scalding response at the tip of his tongue.
There were tears in his mother’s eyes and that was something he had never seen before. He raked his fingers through his disheveled hair not knowing what to make of it.
Judith rose and approached him, shaking her head. “Why don’t you shower and change clothes? You’ll want to be here when they bring her, won’t you?”
One, two, three. He looked down at his shirt and trousers stained with Hannah’s blood.
“Markus,” she said gently. “You look half-mad.”
Four, five, six. “You do realize I am half-mad,” he growled. Seven, eight, nine.
“Yes,” she said, running her hand over his cheek. “If Hannah sees you like this…you don’t want to scare your future wife to death, do you?”
Ten. He exhaled. “No, Mother.”—And then he heard Hannah whispering to him, ‘But they are your parents, my love. And they love you, in their strange way.’—“I will take a shower.”
“Good boy,” she said, patting his shoulder. “Any news and I’ll call you. I promise.”
He nodded, picked up the bag with the clothes, and crossed the suite.
“Markus.” Elijah cleared his throat. “Markus, please?”
Markus turned and stared at his father. Leaning against a wall, with his hands in his trouser pockets and a haggard look on his face, Senator Blackthorn didn’t look the part of the powerful senator of the United States of America who never asked, never begged. His father didn’t break, and for a moment it was terrifying. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll do everything I can to have the woman arrested and heavily sentenced.” Elijah pushed away from the wall. “Would you…please forgive me?”
He stared back, mute. He didn’t know what his father was apologizing for but it didn’t matter, because he wasn’t sure he was ready to give it to him. Perhaps one day.
And then Markus felt as if he was looking inside a closet where he believed he’d find an old, towering, ugly monster, only to find that it was scared and five inches tall, strangely quiet now. And it dissipated in a gap of inchoate sadness.
Without answering, Markus entered the bathroom.
11:00 a.m.
A knock on the door startled Markus. “Come in.”
“Mr. Blackthorn, you have visitors,” said an orderly in a low voice.
Markus rose from the armchair he had been sitting in since Hannah had been wheeled back from surgery, to receive the two men and a woman who were waiting by the door.
“NYPD. I’m detective Donna Mason.” She flashed her ID and motioned to the man. “My colleague, detective Adam Johnson.”
“Nicholas Reed. FBI,” said the suited-man staring at Hannah lying in bed with machines all around her. “We’re sorry about what happened, sir.”
Of course you are. He put his finger on his lips, shushing them, and motioned to the ante-room from where they had come.
“Please, sit,” he said, slouching tiredly into a chair. “Senator Blackthorn told me you’d caught the culprit.”
“Yes.” Johnson took a photo from an envelope and showed him. “Do you recognize this woman?”
“Should I?”
Mason sat on one of the sofas and said, “With all due respect we have for you—and your father—Mr. Blackthorn, we ask the questions here. Do you recognize her?”
Markus sighed. “No, I don’t recognize her.”
“Carmen Muller,” said Reed.
To Markus’s blank stare, Mason explained, “Jacob Muller’s wife.”
Johnson gave out a chortle. “Make that Jacob Muller’s almost widow.”
Mason scooted to the edge of the seat. “I understand you recently bought another company, Haskell & Sons,”—she consulted her notes—“and that you fired Mr. Muller from the CEO post last week.”
“Yes, he was inept and ran down one of the subsidiaries, among other things.”
“Velid Pharmaceutical,” interject Reed.
Shit. “Yes. We had to shut it down.” He rose an eyebrow. “But what does that have to do with the woman attempting to murder me?”
“Revenge.” Mason shrugged. “He was beaten to within an inch of his life on Sunday.”
Markus stared the woman down. “Should I be calling my lawyer, detective?”
Mason shook her head. “No, sir. You’re not a suspect. We think we know who was responsible for the beating. Muller is no stranger to us.”
Fuck. “Why is that?”
The cops looked at one another and to Reed, who pushed from the wall, answering, “Classified information. That will be all for now.”
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Blackthorn,” said Mason. “We hope Ms. Kristensen gets well soon.”
So do I.
2:30 p.m.
There was a beautiful tenor voice talking. It beckoned to her, but she couldn’t make out the words. Little details claimed her attention. There was a throb in her temples, a steady beep in her ears and a stream of cold in her arm.
Then a feminine voice said, “She was very lucky.”
Not me. A flood of memories came rushing back to Hannah. Carmen leveling a gun on Markus; her running towards him; the shot. Definitely not me.
The knowledge that she had been shot made her sick. Cold. It felt surreal. She remembered Markus’s face wavering over hers and him forbidding her to leave him. She wanted to ask where was he but her lips wouldn’t work.
Something pried her eyelids apart. A bright light flashed over one eye, then the other. She tried to turn away, but her head was too heavy to move.
“There was no damage to nerves and tendons, so I estimate three to four months for a complete recovery, provided she does the proper rehabilitation exercises.”
“Thank you, Doctor Assisi.”
Markus! Hannah tried to reach up and push the stupid light away, whatever it was, but her arms were even heavier and wouldn’t obey her no matter what.
And then the light was gone. With a sigh, Hannah welcomed the peaceful darkness again.
Saturday, October 18, 2014
12:30 a.m.
Hannah blinked and finally managed to focus. There was a soft glow of a lamp light over a desk to illuminate the room. Confused, she looked around. It looked like she was in a posh hotel room, yet she knew she was in a hospital because of the IV and medical equipment surrounding her.
She slowly turned her head. Markus…
Markus was sleeping, sitting in a chair, with his head resting on his crossed arms, inches away from her.
She
found her eyes lingering upon the tanned, finely chiseled features that were framed by his long, satin coal hair; his patrician nose, the high thrust of his cheekbones and sensuous curve of his lips.
Concentrating, she managed to stretch her hand to touch the strands of his hair, fighting a grimace. Darn, even a mere muscle movement hurts.
Markus felt a hand stroking his hair and his head shot up to stare at her. At first sight of Hannah’s green eyes in nearly twenty-six hours, Markus forgot to breathe. The pain and the fatigue went unnoticed. All he wanted was to fill her with heat and breathe safety into her. Cupping her face in his hands, he whispered, “Hannah. Oh, Hannah.”
“Hey,” she croaked. He looked exhausted, his eyes were red and yet there was a searing heat in their depths that sharpened on her face.
“How are you feeling?”
“I was dreaming of you,” she slurred.
He laughed brokenly. The anesthetics were clearly still influencing her mind. He didn’t care, so long as she was safe. He kissed her on the lips, softly. “Welcome back, my love.”
My love… “Markus,” she whispered and closed her eyes, suppressing the tears gathering behind her eyelids, sudden too conscious of her own mortality, of what she could have lost. “Hold me, will you?”
Carefully, his arms came around her, warm and comforting. This was right—precisely what she needed. The pounding of hearts and the mingling of breaths. Life. Markus. A promise of a future.
Feeling safe and loved, Hannah sighed. “What—”
“Shh…we’ll talk later,” he whispered softly. “Rest.”
She almost drifted off before catching herself. “Markus.”
Her green eyes were shining when she opened them again and looked at him.
“Hmm?”
“I never told you I love you, did I?”
His chest tightened and ached but he gave her a beautiful smile. “You just did.”
CHAPTER 30
Monday, October 20, 2014
10:00 a.m.
She wanted to go home. Cranky could hardly describe her mood after almost four days at being pricked, prodded, tweaked, and otherwise medically abused.
A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Thinking it was the doctor coming to discharge her, she said, “Enter.”
But it was Senator Blackthorn who appeared in the doorway. “May I come in?”
She was surprised. Judith had visited with her twice everyday, but Markus’s father had only sent a huge bouquet of flowers along with a handwritten get-well card. “Yes.”
He gave her a tight smile and walked to where she sat. “How are you feeling?”
“I guess I have been better,” she said. “Where is Markus?”
“In the adjoining room. Judith asked for tea and is making him eat something.” He cleared his throat and gestured to the other chair near hers. “Ms. Kristensen, er, Hannah…may I sit?”
“Of course.”
“I want to thank you,” he started, sounding choked. “And what you did…I owe you my son’s life. I will be forever in your debt.”
It was so unexpected that she almost couldn’t believe her ears. “Senator, you owe me nothing,” she said. “What I did was out of love.”
“Well.” He looked mildly surprised. He paused a moment, unsure what to say next.
“I would do it again, if needed.”
“In any case. If you ever need…” His eyes fastened on hers, holding her gaze. Groping for words, he said, “I also—I wish to apologize. From the bottom of my heart. I’ve been such a…”
“Bastard,” she finished for him with a sly smile.
“Yes,” he conceded. “You’re not like the others. I’ve honestly never met one of Markus’s, ah, women, who wasn’t interested—”
She gaped at him. “Senator. I’m not one of Markus’s women.”
Elijah rose and walked to the window. “You’re right. He was…so desperate. He cares for you.”
Hannah glanced up at his unusual tone and considered his words. To have Elijah admit it, knowing how hard it must have been for him, it felt big. “I know that, Senator.”
He turned to her and there was a weird look in his face.
“Do you really love him?” Elijah suddenly asked.
“Do you really have to ask me that?” she asked, shocked with his insensibility. “Yes, I’m in love with Markus. Why do you find that so hard to believe?”
“I shouldn’t, should I?” He swallowed as if the answer had cost him and then looked away.
But there was something underneath the words he was not saying, something reflected in his stiff posture. Something Hannah didn’t know she wanted to hear. “Anything else?”
“I didn’t come here to ask for your forgiveness—”
“You’d better not,” she cut him off. “I’m not a rancorous woman, Senator, but it will take more than a few words for me to forgive you. You helped create the situation I was in. To the years my mother suffered in silence while cancer ate her away.”
“If it helps, I’m sorry about that, too.” Elijah fidgeted and looked down. “I know nothing I can do will erase the past…anyway, the two million I offered you to leave Markus? I donated it to the Breast Cancer Research Foundation. In your mother’s name.”
“Thank you,” she said softly. “I appreciate it.” Although it didn’t erase the past, she knew it was a huge step for Markus’s father to have done that.
Before Elijah could say anything else, the door was pushed open and Markus walked in, carrying shopping bags.
Hannah was sure the surprise on Markus’s face was similar to the one that had graced her features when Elijah had entered her room earlier, but he quickly schooled his features and said in an even voice, “For your sake, Senator, I hope you are not being an asshole to Hannah.”
“Give me some credit, Markus,” Elijah said, and gave his son a small tight smile. “I am not always an asshole.”
Almost always. But Markus kept quiet as he watched his father walk back to Hannah and brush his fingers over her hand. “Be well.”
She nodded at him. “Senator.”
After Elijah exited the room, Markus sat by her and took her mouth in a sweet kiss. “Hey, you. How are you feeling?”
“Ready to go home,” she smiled at him.
“Good.” He smiled back at her, the word home sounding so right. “What did he want?”
“To apologize.” To Markus’s doubtful expression, she added, “For real.”
Good. In a strange way, he knew that his father apologizing to Hannah in private was the best they could expect from him and it was better than nothing.
“What is all that?” she asked, jutting her chin to the bags he had left by the table.
“Mother bought you some new clothes.”
She groaned. “Really, Markus?”
“Easier to put on, according to her.” He took from the bags a comfortable knitted green strapless dress, a beautiful sleeveless navy cloak, and ballerina flats.
The old woman and her antics were growing on Hannah. She smiled. “It was thoughtful of her.”
Markus snorted. “She can be useful once in a while.”
She chuckled. “Markus!”
There was a quick knock at the door and it opened to let in Dr. Assisi, a small, middle-aged woman, the surgeon-orthopedist who had operated on her, along with Dr. Haskell.
“Ah. Looks like our patient is ready to go home,” said Dr. Assisi.
“More than ready,” Hannah replied.
They conversed for a few minutes, explaining with minute details the medication and care she would have to take the next several days and scheduling her next appointment.
When they left, Hannah asked Markus, “Did you find someone to help with Victoria?”
“Yes,” he answered with a frown. He had already hired a highly-recommended nanny for his daughter and a twenty-four-seven nurse to help Hannah, but still, how they would manage he didn’t know. “Are you sure—�
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“I am sure,” she stated, putting a finger on his lips. “I’d never have you postponing having Victoria back in your life. No matter what.”
And he realized he didn’t have to have it all planned. They’d figure it out together.
Getting Victoria back in his home tonight—and Hannah—that was all he wanted in his life. And it was all made possible because of that beautiful and giving woman sitting in the armchair.
CHAPTER 31
Nevada, Lake Tahoe
Lakeview Lodge
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
10:00 a.m.
Lakeview Lodge, Markus’s estate in Nevada, was a high-country dream with expansive views of gorgeous turquoise transparent waters of Lake Tahoe softly kissing the sandy beach, Ponderosa pine and cedar park surrounding it and a man-made waterfall. On the first floor, the main reception rooms were separated from the kitchen by a stone fireplace. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked over a broad view of snowcapped peaks.
Even more pleasing to her than the stellar view outside was watching Markus making breakfast while Victoria, dressed as a mermaid, perched on the island countertop, gave helpful suggestions.
“Good morning,” Hannah said.
“Mommy! Mommy!” Victoria jumped down and bolted across the room with her arms open wide.
Hannah had tried getting her step-daughter to call her by her first name, gently explaining that Nicola’s feelings might get hurt and that Nicola was her mom while she, Hannah, was her stepmom. It didn’t work out as Victoria was a girl on a mission and adamantly explained that stepmothers were evil and that Nicola was ‘just mom’, while Hannah was ‘all mommy’. Worried about Nicola’s reaction, Hannah called her and carefully broached the issue only to learn that Nicola didn’t care a fig about it.
Victoria flung herself at Hannah and hugged her midriff, pressing her face to Hannah’s stomach in a trusting and loving way.
By now, Hannah was well acquainted with the way Markus’s daughter greeted her but it never ceased to amaze her how sweet-tempered and affectionate Victoria was. Returning the embrace, she placed a kiss on the girl’s hair and asked, “Isn’t it too cold to swim, mermaid?”
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