by Melinda Minx
God. He knows.
“That means,” Dylan continues, “that you have to be at least a little bit careful, right?”
“Maybe not,” I say. “Best case scenario is that Kaden is perfect for me, and we live happily ever after. Worst case? I jump into this, he breaks my heart, and I get it all over with so that I’m not naive the next time. Sound fair?”
Dylan shrugs. “That’s pretty good logic.”
“You like him though, right?” I ask.
“Uh,” Dylan says. “Yeah, I mean, I guess I do. He’s kind of in your face, but I guess that’s what it took to save you. That kind of personality.”
“You’re just weirded out that he’s hooking up with his patient,” I say.
“Hooking up?” Dylan asks. “You were in the hospital…”
“Jesus, Dylan,” I say, blushing. “It’s just an expression, you know what I mean.”
He laughs. “I don’t really want to know. We’re getting deep into ‘too much information’ territory. Just do what makes you happy, Rose, and if you need help or advice, I’ve got you. Just please don’t share too many details with me, if you know what I mean.”
“I got you,” I say, grinning.
Let’s hope that after tonight there will be some details for me not to share.
We arrive back at Dylan’s place, and I collapse down onto the bed in my room. Something about being in a regular bed—one without rails and a remote control—feels incredibly liberating.
“Feel good?” he asks.
“So good.”
“I don’t have work today,” he says. “Is there anything you want to do? I think your license is expired...we could go get you a new one so you can drive my car.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Sure,” he says. “It is my car, though, but you can use it when I don’t need it.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Let’s go!”
My excitement dies off completely when I realize that renewing my license means waiting around at the DMV. I’d probably rather be in the hospital than waiting in line at the DMV.
Luckily we only have to wait an hour or so, and I get a brand new license after taking an eye exam.
“You want to drive home?’” Dylan asks.
I nod enthusiastically.
“Hey,” I say. “I kind of want to go see someone.”
Dylan rolls his eyes. “You just left the hospital—”
“No,” I say. “Someone else.”
“Who?” Dylan asks.
“Dr. Meiner.”
“I don’t know,” Dylan says. “I heard he’s kind of...off.”
“He saved my life,” I say. “Just as much as Kaden did.”
Dylan looks at me apprehensively. “Maybe send him a thank you email…”
“An email,” I say. “Are you kidding? The machine in my brain that’s keeping me from falling asleep was made by this guy. What should the email say, “hey, thank you for saving my life.” Does that sound good?”
“Fine,” Dylan sighs. “We’ll go.”
“Here’s his address,” I say, digging into my pocket.
“Where’d you get it?” I ask.
“I can’t tell,” I say.
Kaden gave it to me. He’s not supposed to ever mention Dr. Meiner, and giving me his address would be a big no-no.
Dylan enters the address into his phone, and the robot voice starts to tell me where to go.
I start the car up, and once I get used to Dylan’s car, driving feels totally normal.
“Just like riding a bike,” I say, smiling.
“Or driving a car,” he says.
We reach Meiner’s place in about twenty minutes, and once I park outside the building, I suddenly feel nervous.
“I’m not sure what exactly to say to him,” I say.
“We can just go home,” Dylan says. “Do this later...or not at all.”
“You can’t believe whatever you heard about him,” I say. “Dr. Bell basically ran a smear campaign against him so she could steal credit for his work.”
“Do you want me to go in with you?” Dylan asks. “I’d prefer to go with you, in case—”
“No,” I say. “Can you please wait in the car?”
“Rose,” he says. “I can just stand in the corner with my arms crossed, looking scary.”
I laugh. “If I don’t come back in twenty minutes, call me. If I don’t answer, you can call the cops.”
He sighs. “Fine, just be fast.”
I walk up to the door and bite my lip. I just need to say thank you, more or less. I feel grateful to him, and just being honest about that is all that I really need to do. It doesn’t matter so much what I say.
I knock.
A long moment later, the door swings open.
Dr. Meiner looks like he hasn’t shaved in over a week, and his eyes seem almost crusted shut. He looks down at me, and then he wipes his face on his sleeve. He looks at me again, his eyes widening.
“You’re Rose Dorner,” he says.
I nod.
“Come in!”
I suddenly feel a bit scared about walking into his apartment. But I realize it’s silly to feel scared, and so I force myself to go in.
“You want a drink?” he asks. “I have…”
He looks around his kitchen. “Vodka or water.”
“Water is fine,” I say.
He looks around his kitchen, which is a mess, for a clean class. Failing to find one, he grabs a dirty one. He covers his tattered-looking kitchen sponge with some soap and starts to scrub the glass. He doesn’t get all the suds off, and he fills the glass up with a bunch of soapy water. He hands me the glass.
I smile politely and take the glass, hoping he won’t notice that I won’t be taking even a single sip.
He pulls a chair over for me. “Sit down.”
We both sit down at his table, which is covered with a bunch of used glasses and empty liquor bottles.
“I’m not usually a drunk,” he says. “But after Dr. Prince stabbed me in the back, I hit the bottle pretty hard.”
I grind my jaw, wondering what I should say at this point. This isn’t exactly how I pictured things.
“Dr. Meiner,” I say. “I came here to say thank you. You should know that Dr. Prince was thrown under the bus by the hospital, he didn’t—”
“Thrown under the bus?” Meiner says, eyebrows raising up. “He was given a distinguished service award! How is that being thrown under the bus?”
“He told me to come here and thank you,” I say. “He was barred from having any contact with you, or he’ll lose his job.”
“Ah!” Meiner says. “Lose his job. Just like I did. Had I known things would turn out like this when Dr. Prince came begging to me, I never would have agreed. I could have waited a few years, and done the procedure above board…”
“You helped me,” I say. “By doing it like this, you’ve given me back years of my life that otherwise I never could have had.”
“And you’re with Dr. Prince,” Meiner says. “A real fairytale. It seems that man faces no consequences for any of his actions.”
“He,” I say, “uh, look, I’m sure that given time, the truth will come out. You have all the research—”
“All taken from me. I don’t own any of my own work anymore. I have nothing, Ms. Dorner.”
“Is...is there anything I could do to help you?”
He throws up his hands. “Not unless you’re willing to let me experiment on you!”
I feel a chill of fear race down my spine. I can’t tell if he’s serious or not. “I…”
“Of course not,” he says. “I’d have to shut off the machine to observe you. If Pittsburgh Memorial had let me observe you while you were still sleeping, I probably could have developed the machine years earlier. That hospital is an evil place, Rose. They were going to kill you, and now they take credit for saving you.”
“I should get going,” I say.
“You haven’t had any water,” he says,
pointing to the soapy froth.
“Thank you again,” I say, standing up.
He grabs my forearm, squeezing it so hard so that I can’t walk away. “Convince Dr. Prince to share the truth! Dr. Bell has built him up as this model doctor, and the press loves him. The iron is hot to strike now! If he tells the truth, everyone will get what they truly deserve!”
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll talk to him.”
I just want him to let go of me, but he doesn’t.
“Promise me, Rose!”
“I promise,” I say. “Please let go.”
I notice on his sofa that there’s a big camera with a fancy-looking zoom lens. It must have been him following us. Trying to bring down Dr. Prince.
He lets go. “I let go of your arm, but you cannot let go of a promise!”
I hurry myself to the door, afraid he’ll grab me again.
When I get back to the car, Dylan looks at my face, and he can tell straight away that something went wrong.
“Shit,” I say. “You drive.”
I get out of the car and wait for Dylan to take the driver’s seat. I buckle myself into the passenger seat, trying to get myself under control.
“What happened?” Dylan asks.
“Nothing, just go.”
“He did something!” Dylan says, reaching for the door handle. “I’ll beat the shit out of—”
“Dylan,” I say, grabbing him. “Please! Just drive me home.”
He hesitates, but finally he starts the car and begins driving.
“Tell me at least—”
“You were right,” I say. “I should have just emailed him. Okay?”
“Okay,” he says.
We get home, and I shut my door and fall onto the bed. I feel exhausted. The meeting with Dr. Meiner ruined the night for me. I want to see Kaden, but now I’ll have to worry about what Dr. Meiner said instead.
Should I even tell Kaden? If I do, he might do something stupid. He might do something that gets himself fired. It’s not like he’s ever showed any restraint when it comes to doing reckless stuff that might get him into trouble.
I feel really bad for Dr. Meiner, but Dr. Bell is the one who is truly at fault. Why should Kaden or I have to pay for what she did? Though I suppose that if Kaden did come clean, it would make Dr. Bell pay…
But what about Kaden? The only reason he wasn’t fired is because of what Dr. Bell did—making it look like the surgery was done with her approval.
And Dr. Meiner? Even if Kaden’s confession proves that it was his work, he’ll be in the same spot as Kaden: accused of being an accessory to abduction and assisting in illegal surgery.
Dr. Meiner is unhinged. He’s more interested in getting credit than not going to jail. He physically threatened me to make him a promise, and that doesn’t count as a promise in my book. I decide it’s nothing worth worrying Kaden over. I won’t tell him, and I won’t go to see Dr. Meiner again.
13
Kaden
I get home from work and change clothes. I’ve made a reservation at a nice Italian place tonight, so I change into a jacket and slacks.
I called Rose and told her to change into something nice and that I was on my way to come pick her up.
She sounded a bit odd. I’m guessing it’s just weird for her to be back in a normal bed again and living with her brother. A lot of the shock of what happened may be setting in just now. Being in the hospital is almost like being in a state of limbo, but going home to what isn’t really your home can be a shock. What she used to call home is gone now, and there’s no going back there, especially since her parents are dead.
Hopefully I can take her mind off things tonight.
I pull up to her brother’s place, park on the side of the street, and go inside.
I knock, and her brother opens the door. “Hey, Dr. Prince.”
“Kaden,” I say.
He gestures me inside, and he looks down at my clothes. “Fancy dinner?”
I smile. “Celebrating her first night back in the real world.”
“I think she’s still getting ready,” Dylan says. He walks over to her door and knocks. “Rose, he’s here, you ready?”
“Ten minutes!” she shouts back.
He shrugs. “You know how it is.”
“Yeah,” I say.
Dylan gestures toward the couch, and we both sit down.
“Rose got her license,” he says. “She can drive your Tesla now.”
I smile. “Does she drive well?”
“Yeah,” he says. “She taught me to drive mostly. It’s weird, I was her younger brother for so long, but now I feel like her older brother. Sometimes at least.”
I nod. “I can see that. She’ll catch up fast, though. She’s going into this with the right attitude. You’ll feel like a little brother again in no time.”
“I hope so,” he says. “I’m ready to go back to school, I think. Or do you think I could get into poker?”
I laugh. “She told you about that?”
He nods.
“Don’t tell anyone else,” I say. “But no, it’s not as easy to get into as it was when I did. Go to school, man, trust me. Rose said you were always good at it anyway. Harvard…”
“I’m not going to Harvard now,” Dylan says. “Maybe Duquesne or something.”
“At least go to Carnegie if you’re staying in Pittsburgh,” I say. “Don’t shortchange yourself.”
He shrugs. “I’ve shortchanged myself by working at Starbucks so long, man. Anything would be a step up.”
“Fair enough.”
I hear the door open, and Rose steps out. She’s wearing a tight red dress that hugs her breasts. Her cleavage is all over the place, and my eyes lock right onto it.
“I’m gonna go play Xbox,” Dylan says, rolling his eyes at me drooling over his sister.
He walks off toward his room, and I smile wide at Rose. “You look incredible.”
“You should have given me more notice!” she snaps. “I only had an hour to shop for this thing!”
“It looks like the time pressure forced you to make a good choice.”
“Asshole.”
“Seriously,” I say. “You look incredible.”
I grab hold of her around the waist, pulling her against me. It’s tempting to tear the dress right off of her and free those big breasts, to feel her wetness again. This time to feel it clenched tight around my hard and hungry cock.
“I made us a reservation,” I say. “Do you want to drive?”
“Doesn’t your car cost like $200,000?” she says, looking at me in stunned confusion.
I guess she Googled my car.
“So?” I ask. “You can drive it if you want.”
She grins. “Yeah, I want to.”
“Can I do the crazy acceleration thing?” she asks, as she starts to drive down the road.
I point in front of her. “The speed limit here is 35, and there are people walking dogs just beside us.”
“So that’s a ‘no’ I take it?”
“No,” I say. “If you want to go on the highway later, you’re free to go fast.”
“Cool,” she says. “I definitely want to.”
The GPS tells her how to get to the restaurant, so I just lean back and look over at her at stare. She looks fucking good in that dress, and I’m hungrier for her than I am for the food.
And she’s got a big smile plastered on her face, which makes her look even better.
She glances at me and says, “This car is so futuristic, I love it.”
“It’s nice to not have to drive sometimes,” I say, smiling.
We pull up to the restaurant, and it’s valet parking only.
The valet is a guy who looks barely seventeen. He’s got pimples all over his face, and when Rose opens the door, his eyes bulge and lock onto her tits.
I glare at him, and he nearly chokes.
“Ahhh, nice t-t—nice Tesla, ma’am!”
“Thank you,” Rose says, smilin
g.
We get out of the car, and the teenager drives my car away.
“I can’t believe he called me ‘ma’am,’” Rose says.
“That kid would have called you ma’am if you were nineteen,” I say.
“Still,” Rose says. “It’s cool. I feel like a grown-up.”
We sit down and I instinctively grab the wine menu. “Do you like…?”
I trail off, realizing that while she’s twenty-five, she probably knows nothing about wine. Unless she was into it back in high school.
“What do you want to drink?” I ask.
“Oh,” she says. “I can order beer and stuff, can’t I?”
I laugh. “You want a beer?”
“No,” she says. “I want the “and stuff,” like those fancy-ass drinks.”
I hand her the drink menu. “Pick one for both of us, then you can try mine, too.”
“Sweet,” she says, studying the menu.
“I’m going to get…” she says, scanning her finger across the menu. “A mojito, and a sangria.”
“Sounds good,” I say. “Which one is mine?”
“Which do you want?”
“The Mojito.”
We order the drinks, and the waiter takes the drink menus away.
“He didn’t even ID me!” Rose says, grinning.
“You look...sophisticated,” I say.
“You do, too, Kaden,” she says. She eyes me up and down. “You look really hot all dressed up.”
The waiter brings us our drinks, and Rose samples the sangria. “Hmm, it’s good, but it’s not great.”
I slide the mojito to her. “What made you get a mojito?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “I saw people order them in movies before. They looked cool.”
She takes a sip. “Ahh! This is way better.”
I take the sangria. “We can trade then.”
“Aw, thanks!” She bats her eyelashes at me and sips the mojito.
We order our food. I get a Ligurian seafood stew, with mussels, clams, and shrimp.
“And you, ma’am?” the waiter asks.
“Will I embarrass you,” she whispers to me, “if I order something that isn’t fancy?”
“Order whatever you want,” I say.
“I’ll get the pasta and meatballs,” Rose says.
I laugh as the waiter walks away.