Shouldn't Have Dealt
Page 17
“And don’t you dare try to buy the company! I know how your mind works, Hunter.”
The hint of a smile has fully grown. It brightens up his face, making him look a lot younger than his age. His good looks do not deserve to be questioned. Hunter Stone is, by all means, a very handsome man. Too sad he’ll get a substandard-looking wife.
He tilts his head, squints his eyes, and draws his fingers to his cheeks, pinching them as though stopping himself from bursting into laughter. What is funny with what I said?
“I can already imagine what this house will be like with a wife like you,” he says.
“Don’t try me, Hunter!” I make sure it sounds more threatening than a juvenile warning. “I’m not going to make it easy for you. You must know I am against female suppression. I know what to do as your employee, but you must know I have my set of rights, too. If you try to lay a finger on me, I can always gouge your eyes out!”
“I believe I am well-versed about your rights, Angel. I don’t make things I am not even sure about,” he answers, still fighting off his amusement. “Make no worries, I am not after a fucking spree.”
Before I could bat my eyelashes, Hunter stands from his seat and picks up his phone from his inner pocket. I wanted him to see my displeasure, but he holds a finger up to me.
“Eric?”
Eric Martin?
What emergency could the doctor be raring to tell Hunter at this hour? It could not be about Dad, could it? I feel my stomach twirling and my heart squeezing. It has only been less than a day after the operation, and here is Eric Martin calling Hunter.
I hold my hands together and watch Hunter pace around the room with his head nodding and his forehead creasing. Honestly, it’s hard to decipher what the man could be thinking. He’s got a face as complicated as the Rosetta Stone.
When he hangs up the call, my legs seem to have a mind of its own, rising from the chair.
“What is it about? Is there a problem?” I ask, my voice shaking.
His eyes travel from the floor to mine. I wish I do not see the anxiety in them, but Hunter fails to hide worry this time.
“George will need a new operation.”
“Why? What’s the matter with his new kidney?” Didn’t Eric say everything will be fine now?
He releases a sigh.
“Eric says the new kidney is showing early signs of rejection.”
I stare at Hunter, waiting for him to explain further. My brain is too shocked to process anything he said.
“His new kidney is a mismatch,” he says when he finds me at a loss for words.
“But Eric said—”
“I don’t know how it happened. We’ll have to go there and let the man explain.”
Quickly, I leave the dining room and rummage my dresser for a change of clothes.
When we arrive at the hospital, Dad is already on immunosuppressants. The nurse said his urine output is less than expected. Something is wrong with the new kidney.
“Angel!” Ray calls, breathing heavily. I sit in the chair at Dad’s bedside while Mom occupies the empty couch across us, sleeping.
“Hush, Ray! You’ll wake them up.” I stand from where I am seated and pull my friend out of the room.
“Come along!” He grasps my hands, and soon, I find myself scuttling down the hospital corridor. Then he stops, and I almost bang my head against his.
“Be careful, Ray!”
“Hush!” He puts his finger in front of his lips. Then he pushes me to the protruding corner wall. “They’ll hear us.”
What is he talking about?
Ray shoves my head to the wall, so my cheek touches its cold surface, and gestures his hand toward the lobby where Hunter and Eric are talking.
So we are going to spy on these two people? Oh, well, Eric has not explained to me in full detail what went wrong with Dad, so I think eavesdropping is not a sin.
“This thing rarely happens, Hunter,” Eric says. “It does not mean something went wrong with the organ testing. Usually, a hyperacute rejection occurs just minutes after the new tissue is transplanted. I can’t consider this acute as well since it has only been less than 24 hours and not a week. Perhaps genetics predisposition should have been studied before the surgery was performed.”
“And why did you not do it, Eric?” Hunter says, surprisingly maintaining his calm.
“I did not perceive the need for one. All was well.”
Hunter walks toward the curtain wall and lets his eyes float somewhere outside the dark skies. He seems to be thinking deeply.
“Then George will need another operation.”
“As soon as possible.” Eric stands beside him, their backs facing us.
“How much do you think will—”
Eric shakes his head. “You can’t bribe anyone this time, Hunter. We are lucky the foundation leader was corrupt, he accepted your money in less than a second. Once is enough.”
“And what do you want me to do?” Hunter turns to his side, facing Eric.
“I think you know very well what you can do,” Eric replies with his hands in his pocket. “You always have the connection.” I cannot take the meaningful beam on the doctor’s face for granted.
“You mean Will?”
“I know what you are thinking. It has been a long time, Hunter,” Eric says.
I feel Ray tug my elbow, so I turn to him
“Who’s Will?” he mouths to me
I don’t feel like it’s time to explain things to Ray. It’s just surprising to hear Eric talk about Hunter’s connection—Will, to be specific. Does this mean the former knows about Hunter’s relationship with Will? Or could Eric hold an important key to Hunter’s secret?
“If you contact Will, Hunter, it will just mean one thing. You’re opening your doors for him.”
“It’s not like I have a choice, Eric.”
“I do not want to intrude into your affairs, my friend, but you know how women can make great changes in men’s lives.”
Hunter faces back the wide cityscape. In just a few hours, the sun will rise, and all I could hope right now is for Dad’s medications to work.
“Angel has nothing to do with this,” Hunter states.
Eric’s eyes glint.
“What?” Hunters voice cracked like a secret of his has been exposed.
“If it is not for her, you will have no problem dealing with Will.”
“You’ve been hitting too many pots, haven’t you, Dr. Martin?”
Eric smirks and pats Hunter’s shoulder. “Angel’s like a sister to me,” he says before he steps a few inches away from Hunter.
“Back off, Eric. You’re married.”
“See! You’re too protective now. I wonder why.”
Hunter ignores the man, turning his back on him and walking away. I grasp Ray by the arm and pull him out of the corridor and back to Dad’s room before Hunter finds us snooping around.
Chapter 26: Unmentioned
As of now, the immunosuppressants have kept Dad alive for two days. If my knowledge of biology serves me right, it’s these that stop Dad’s own natural defense system from killing his entire body. I don’t know how long the medications can help Dad because as what Eric said, they are just temporary relievers. Right now, Dad’s stable, but another operation is inevitable.
As for Hunter, I don’t know where he has been for the last forty-eight hours. He could be chasing Will now, bribing organ donation foundations, or negotiating with the devil.
Am I putting too much trust on Hunter Stone now?
Well, maybe. I don’t really have a choice. I cannot scour the world for kidneys in days while Hunter can with his money and connections. I am literally at his mercy now. He promised he would do anything… for me.
A shuddering cold suddenly materializes from the bottom of my spine and runs upwards in no time at the thought of Hunter making a sacrifice for me. The man is not a saint to do such a thing, and even if he is no saint, he’s not that capable of doing goo
d. All of these are beyond my wildest expectations of him.
“Hi!” I greet the female secretary immediately after she opens the door. “I would like to talk with Dr. Martin. Is he there?”
The female secretary briefly turns around to, perhaps, take a look at Eric’s door.
“Do you have an appointment, ma’am?”
I can feel she recognizes me.
“Unfortunately, I don’t.”
She sidesteps and opens the door wide. She gestures her hand from me to the empty couch and shyly smiles.
“Take a seat, Ms. Mohr. Dr. Martin is currently conducting a physical assessment to a patient.” I thought I see the muscles around her eyes twitch.
She knocks on the glass door twice before it slides to the left. She, then, steps across the threshold, leaving half of her body visible to my eyes.
“You can come into his office now, Ms. Mohr. He’ll be out in a few minutes, I believe.”
“Thanks.”
I cross the door. There’s another room with a tinted glass door just across the entrance to his office. I believe it’s the physical assessment room where Eric is performing a checkup. Perhaps, the health check will not take too that’s why the secretary let me in. I can see moving shadows from here, so I think I will not have to wait for that long.
All sorts of paper works fill Eric’s table. As soon as the secretary shuts the door of his office, I scan my eyes through the documents. Without touching them, of course. My body freezes the moment I catch a glimpse of a green folder with a label: Tests Run. George Mohr.
My hands quickly reach for them and browse the pages. It’s about Dad, and the impulse to know everything about his condition overpowers me.
There are photographs of four men, all with chiseled faces and prominent jaws. Two is tanned, one was ebony in color, and the last is fairly white. Their names are printed in small letters at the bottom of the pictures. Green sheets cut crosswise that look like test results of recently conducted studies are stapled together after the photos. They are organ cross-matching results—of Dad and these four men. With a sea of illustrations of various graphs and combinations of numbers and letters, I could hardly figure out what the results say. One piece of paper fall on the floor, and I readily pick it up. On it was the words: Inconclusive Result. None of the donor candidates show strong match with patient no. 0257-090-223. Suggested for another cross matching test including a genetic assessment.
I hear footsteps. My hands automatically shut the document, and I pretend as if I do not know the ugly truth.
Dr. Martin goes out of the door wearing his white coat. He smiles. Does he already know about the result?
“Did I keep you waiting?” he asks while brushing a few strands of hair off his forehead.
“No. Your secretary said you have a patient. I’m sorry for coming here without an appointment,” I say. “I must have disturbed you.” My eyes shift to the slight opening of the door he came out of.
Eric grabs the knob and slides the door to the right, shutting it completely and blocking my view of who is possibly inside the other room.
“I would like to ask for updates about Dad,” I say.
In my mind, I would also like to ask about Hunter. I know Eric knows something about where the man could be… of what he’s doing, and how he ended up getting four donors in two days. It’s Hunter Stone, and no one should question his resources and abilities, but still, I would like to know. I can’t get him out of my mind. For two nights, it’s not just Dad in my head but also this conceited man who loves to keep secrets. For the love of God, he could now be in Will’s merciless hands. He could be harmed or worse, killed.
Despite the fact that Hunter Stone is as cold as ice, I cannot get rid of my rising anxiety about his strange absence. Whatever he’s done to secure four donors must have kept him from seeing me, and I can’t help but think of Will.
Eric pushes back his chair. He sits on there and puts his hands on top of his pile of papers.
“George will get the operation once we find the right kidney. As for now, his medications are helping him.”
“And did you find the right kidney now, Eric?” I fight the temptation to look at the cross-matching results.
“No. Not yet.” His voice suddenly becomes sad. “But there’s another potential candidate. We all need to wait for the start of the tests.”
“A new donor?”
So there’s one more? Not just four but five?
“Angel, we had secured four donors yesterday, but it seems they are not good matches for George. Right now, we can only hope the fifth, and I got a feeling this one is the perfect match.”
I feel my entire heart being squeezed in a tight clasp, like its supply of oxygen is soon to be cut off. The thought of having the fifth donor as our last chance stings. What if it doesn’t match still? The tests have not begun, and yet, I could feel hope slipping out of my hands.
“Are we allowed to know the identity of this fifth donor?” I ask.
Eric shakes his head.
“I’m sorry, but I cannot reveal to you any of the donors’ identity. They have signed privacy and confidentiality documents, Angel.”
It’s a good thing Eric had not taken out the four men’s kidneys from their bodies and implanted to Dad’s because I could hardly imagine how they’d take it when they find out their lost organ does not even fit its new owner. Living the rest of their lives with only a kidney will be an uphill climb, not being able to do the same things they used to before when they were physically complete, and then they’d find out their kidneys had no help to the man they sold it for. I feel the sense of gratitude for these men’s bravery, and I feel that I should know who they are. A simple thank you would suffice.
“Okay, Eric.”
He looks down.
“All I could do now is hope for the best.” I sigh.
“Look, Angel, we are trying our best, so you shouldn’t worry.”
How can I not?
“But there’s no assurance, Eric.”
Nothing’s certain until we see Dad healthy again and walking out of the hospital with his new kidney.
I know they are working hard on this. Hunter must have put himself in danger by submitting himself to Will to help me, and though this huge help is unlikely to materialize soon, I know I am indebted to the man.
A booming sound escapes from the closed room, the one where Eric’s other patient had been inside for quite a time now. It sounds like a metal tray clashed with the floor.
Eric automatically turns his head to the door.
“I think your patient is already bored,” I say as I stand from where I am sitting.
“Yup! I think I lost track of him,” Eric answers. “I’ll see you this afternoon, Angel. The test result of number five might come out at six later.”
“Okay. Thank you, Eric.”
Before I return to Dad’s room, I thought of picking up lunch from the cafeteria on the ground floor for Mom. She has not been eating so well for the past days. Aside from not ditching her job, she had insisted on looking after Dad when she comes home after work. I cannot even think how she manages to get sleep.
When I got my paper bag filled with food and drinks, I hit the elevator. As I wait for the elevator to reach my floor, I tap the balls of my right foot to the sound of the elevator bells. It’s on the second floor when the lift on my left side opens. I turn to watch a sea of people getting out from it when my own elevator arrives.
However, before I could get in, my eyes detect a familiar man leaving the elevator to my left. He’s tall, and his facial structure reminds me of someone my head could not erase. He is being thrust away as I am being pressed into the elevator by an ocean of strangers.
I feel my chest constricting at the sight of him.
I shake my head in hopes that my eyes are just deceiving me. This hallucination must be from the stress I’ve been dealing with. My eyes are playing a prank on me. That must be it.
But did m
y eyes really deceive me?
I let the question swallow me while people push me to the back corner of the elevator. When the doors close and the bell chimes, I am instantly transported back to reality.
It was not Damien.
A voice in my head keeps repeating the words.
It was not Damien.
How can it be him when he’s supposed to be in Spain? Besides, what would he be doing in the hospital? It just cannot be him.
Chapter 27: Tickets to Colombia
Forty-five minutes after six, Dad is wheeled to the theater for his second operation. After Eric brought us the news that number five is likely the best match for Dad, I literally cried my heart out. My prayers are answered, and so was Mom’s.
After the four hours long operation, Dad is put on immunosuppressive medications again just in case any reaction occurs. Eric says Dad has to stay in the hospital for a week for constant monitoring although it’s less likely for adverse effects to occur. The fifth kidney is tailored fit for Dad, so to speak, even though there were difficulties during the test, which Eric don’t dare to mention anymore.
“Where’s your necklace, sweetie?” Dad asks as he notices my empty neck.
My hand touches the bare skin of my neck, and I suddenly remember how I lost it.
“I…” I try to search for the right words. I do not want to tell Dad I lost it after getting drunk and having found myself sleeping in Hunter’s place.
“You promise to wear it all the time,” Dad says while squeezing my hands.
Should I just tell him I’ll get it back from Hunter? I am positive the man has it. It’s only that a lot of things happened in the past few days that it slipped off my mind.
“I will, Dad,” I reply.
“When am I going home?” he asks.
“Maybe we should ask Eric about it.” Mom stands from her chair and walks toward Dad’s bed. “We’ve been here for nine days already.”
“I don’t think I’ll be needing any of these,” Dad says as he points to the gadgets and medical stuff attached to him. “I really miss my couch!”
Is it safe to return home?
Hunter Stone’s been away for days, and I have no idea whether it is safe for us to return home. There has been no news about Will and his threats, so I think it’s safe to assume that all is well now. Nevertheless, I cannot, no matter how I try hard to let go. I wish I could just easily wipe out this sense of obligation I have to pay off the debt. What bothers me most is that no one in here knows where Hunter could be or what could have happened to him. I have asked Paul a dozen times already every time he visits Dad, but I always get nothing from him. “Mr. Stone explicitly instructed me to never disclose information about his whereabouts and activities,” he said.