The Masked Truth Part 21

"Schizophrenia," Max says. "Yes." And that's another first. The first time he's been forced to admit to his condition and hasn't cringed as he said it. Hasn't wanted to throw it like a bomb and run before he sees their reaction. He says it matter-of-factly. Yes, I have schizophrenia. Deal with it. I certainly need to.

"I'll need my medication once we reach the hospital," he says, rhyming off the dosage. "I was due to take it at ten, but obviously circ.u.mstances prevented that."

"You're overdue for your meds?" the man asks.

"Yes," Max says. "Roughly three hours overdue, which only means I should take them as soon as possible, not that I'm in imminent danger of a full-blown psychotic break, so you can stop looking at me like that."

Hmm, can you blame him, Max? Isn't that what you yourself were worried about a few hours ago? That the clock would slip past ten and you'd be like Dr. Jekyll downing his potion?

No, he was understandably stressed, and he overreacted.

Good. I'm glad you see that.

Unfortunately, the paramedicswho one really thought would have known betterdid not seem to agree. The woman looked concerned. The man seemed ready to reach for the nearest hypodermic to put Max down if he made any sudden moves.

"I'm fine," Max says. "I escaped murderous kidnappers, got Riley to safety and called 911. I believe those are not the actions of someone experiencing a schizophrenic episode. Call ahead, have my meds ready, and we'll all rest easier when I've taken them. But until then, like Riley, I can hold on."

"You said you were held captive, but no ransom demands were made?" the man says, carefully.

It takes Max a second to get his meaning, but only a second, before he rolls his eyes and says, "Yes, I'm sorry. I was mistaken. I actually stabbed Riley. We were making out behind the building, having snuck out of therapy because, well, therapy is boring and making out is not. But then the next thing I know, I'm holding a knife and covered in blood, and she's dying, but no worries, mate, I'll just make up a story about kidnappers. I'm sure everyone will believe that."

"There's no need to be sarcastic," the woman says.

"Yes, actually, there is."

"You knew what I was implying, though," the man says, his hand sliding to the side as if he's wondering where the closest weapon might be.

"Yes, because I have schizophrenia and am well aware of exactly what the average person expects of me, and while I'd hope for better from medical professionals, you are merely paramedics. Couldn't quite get the grades for med school, I presume?"

The man's eyes narrow.

"You don't appreciate the insult? After you suspected me of stabbing Riley? I'm not sure which is more egregiousthe presumption that by dint of having schizophrenia, I clearly did this, or the presumption that I'm not bright enough to come up with a better story if I did. You did notice Riley open her eyes, right? She saw me and screamed in terror as she woke looking into the face of her would-be killer."

"You can cut the sarcasm, kid."

"Can I? Excellent. You stop looking at me as if I'm about to lop off your head, and I'll stop being cheeky about it." Max lifts his other hand to take Riley's. "There. You can now see both my hands. If I make any sudden move, you have my permission to use that hypodermic you keep eyeing."

"I'm not"

"Enough," the woman says. "I'm going to call ahead for your medication. We'll be there in a couple of minutes, and the priority is Riley."

"Yes," Max says. "It is." And he turns his back on the man and watches Riley for the rest of the trip.

MAX: SERENITY.

Serenity: the state of being calm, peaceful and untroubled.

That's what Max feels now. Serenity.

Riley is fine. All right, perhaps "fine" is an exaggerationno one stabbed in the chest can truly be considered to be doing "fine." But she is stable and listed in seriousnot criticalcondition, and the doctor felt confident enough to a.s.sure Max she would be fine. That is what counts, and so serenity is what Max feels, sitting in the waiting room, waiting for his mother or for permission to see Riley, whichever comes first.

He gave a brief statement when he arrived, and he'll need to give a complete interview to the a.s.signed detectives, but they are at the scene and will get to him soon.

Any earlier worry over how he might be treated has also pa.s.sed. When the nurse from the psychiatric ward came to see him, he could tell by her expression thatgiven what she'd likely heard from the medicsshe expected a raving lunatic ready for padded-room commitment. When she'd found him coherent and polite and calm, that wariness disappeared and she'd treated him as if he was any other patient. He'd got his meds. She'd brought clean clothing, and he'd answered her questions. She was kind and helpful, and when she left, she'd gone to get Riley's doctor, who'd treated him with the same respect, giving him as much of an update on her condition as she could to a non-family member.

The nurse had then ascertained that Max was comfortable being left alone in the waiting room, and she'd returned to her duties, simply telling him to page her if he needed anything. Treating him like a normal person, despite knowing his condition. He appreciated that more than he'd have imagined possible.

Yet another reason for serenity ... A few minutes ago, he overheard someone talking about "another girl" brought in from "that kidnapping." He'd inquiredpolitelyand been told it was Brienne. She's alive. That's all the nurses know, but it's enough for Max.

Riley will be fine. No one has locked him up in the psych ward. Brienne has survived. And so, yes, a few moments of serenity.

"Do you know when I might be able to see Riley Vasquez?" he asks, oh so politely, when a nurse pops his head into the room.

"That will be up to her family. They're with her now."

"Good. Thank you."

As the nurse withdraws, he catches sight of a young woman, and he jumps up with Riley's name on his lips. It isn't her, of course, but the young woman has stopped, as if overhearing his exchange with the nurse. She sees him. She tilts her head and then turns away, and he hurries out the door and says, "Sloane!"

She stops. She turns. She doesn't smile or acknowledge him or even step his way. She simply gives him a look, as if considering whether this is really worth her time.

Her resemblance to Riley is not as strong as he thought at first. She's smaller, a bit older. Prettier too, in a way he fully admits while feeling no disloyalty to Riley, because it is merely a factual a.s.sessment. Sloane is, as Americans would say, a knockout, and she knows it, her chin rising as if to say, I am beautiful and you will admire me. He tries not to laugh, because that look erases any resemblance to her sister, and makes him decide that even wan and pale on her deathbed, Riley is the more attractive one.

He jogs to Sloane, and she gives him a once-over. a.s.sessing, considering, and then dismissing. Worth two seconds of contemplation and no morewhich is, he guesses, more than most blokes get from Sloane Vasquez.

"Max," he says, extending a hand, which she gives even less contemplation and certainly doesn't shake. Nor does she give any sign that the name means anything. In other words, Riley has never mentioned him from group therapy. Shocking, really.

"You're the guy who rescued my sister," she says.

"We rescued each other."

"The Brit," she says as he speaks a full sentence. "From her group."

"She mentioned me?"

"She said you were a jerk."

He laughs. Sloane does not. She isn't teasingshe's just telling him what her sister said. Blunt honesty.

"Perhaps," he says. "Or perhaps she just needed to get to know me better."

She rolls her eyes and turns away. Dismissed, old chap. Don't joke with this one. She's not Riley. She'll think you're an idiot, or worse, flirting with her.

Max jogs in front of Sloane. "How is Riley? Is she awake yet? You've been to see her, haven't you?"

Sloane stops. Another cool a.s.sessment, this one for her sister. Are you worth her time? Her attention? When she finishes considering, she seems to decide that the answer is probably no but given that he helped Riley, he might deserve a little of Sloane's time. Just a little.

"She's still out cold. They have her on a lot of painkillers. The doctor says she'll be fine. Mom's freaking out, of course, but ..." She trails off and shrugs. "That's what moms do. I don't think the doctor would say she will be fine if she won't."

"They wouldn't. It's a liability issue."

He smiles againcan't help it. This is Riley's sister, and he wants to coax some positive reaction from her, get her on his side, as ridiculous as that might be. Of course she doesn't smile. She nods, as if accepting what he says at face value. Then she looks up at him.

"It's true what they say happened?" she asks. "Kidnappers? And the others? Dead?"

Max's smile evaporates as he nods.

Sloane closes her eyes, and she goes still for a moment before she shakes her head, and when her voice comes, it cracks a little. "Poor kid. She just can't catch a break, can she?"

Max says nothing to that. What can he say? He knows that when the doctor insists Riley will be all right, she means physically. The rest ...? He's trying not to think about the rest.

"How was she?" Sloane asks, her voice lowered. "In there? I can't imagine ..." She swallows.

"Riley held up fine." Max pauses and then he shakes his head. "No, she didn't just hold up. She held us together. She kept us going. As horrible as it got, she never stopped trying, never stopped thinking and planning and pus.h.i.+ng us."

Sloane's poise falters then as her eyes tear up. "Of course she did. Of course she would. She saved that little girl, you know. No matter what she might say during that therapy c.r.a.pno matter what she might think or feelshe saved her."

"She saved me too."

Sloane nods and turns to go, but only stands there, gazing around as if forgetting what she's supposed to be doing. Then she looks back at Max.

"I'll make sure they let you see her when she wakes up. It might be a while. The doctor said she could be out all day, but if you give me your number, I'll text."

"I don't have my mobile," he says. Which is technically true.

"Mobile? Oh, right. Cell phone. No, of course you don't. It's still back ..." She goes quiet, as if thinking about what happened, and then sharply shakes her head. "Okay, e-mail then?"

Haven't checked it in months, but sure. He gives her the address, and she puts it on her phone and promises to let him know when Riley wakes up. She's about to go, and then she stops and asks, "How about you? Are you okay?" as if belatedly realizing perhaps she ought to inquire.

"I'm fine," he says. "But if Riley asks about me when she wakes up, tell her I said I'm right as rain."

"Right as ..." She shakes her head, a little of herself seeping back with a faint eye roll, as if to say she won't ask what that means because, really, she doesn't care. "I'll tell her. Anything else?"

"No, that's" He stops and takes a deep breath. "Tell her I still owe her a secret, which I'll give her as soon as I see her."

Sloane gives him a whatever shrug, her attention already moved on, oblivious to the expression on his face, which he suspects is similar to the look of a hiker facing down a grizzly bear. A terrifying prospect, but it has to be done. Can't turn and run. That would only make it worse. Riley deserves to know he has schizophrenia. If he's hoping this is the start of a friends.h.i.+p, then she has to know.

"Right as rain. Owe her a secret. Got it." Sloane starts to leave. Then she stops and says, "The answer is no, by the way. So if that's your motivation, don't bother."

"The answer to what?"

"If you're hanging around because my sister is hot. Hoping that rescuing her wins you a fast-pa.s.s ticket to her bedroom."

"What? No," he says quickly. "I wouldn't She isn't I mean, of course she is, but no. I would never take advantage."

"Good. Because the answer is no, and if you even try, I'll cut you off at the knees." She meets his gaze.

"Er, right. Yes. I understand. Just tell her"

"You're right as rain and you owe her a secret," Sloane says as she walks away. "Got it."

That went ... well. Possibly. Better than horrible. Less than wonderful.

When he turns back to the waiting room, there's a bounce in his step that insists it did indeed go well, that he got as much approbation from Riley's sister as he was ever likely to get. Better yet, she's promised to let him know when he can see Riley. So it was good. Very, very good.

He's still smiling as he notices a woman at the nurses' station. She has her back to him. Tall, blond, angular and speaking very precisely in her very precise upper-cla.s.s accent, dressing down the poor nurses for some slight or other.

Max walks over as she's telling the nurses that they really ought to keep a better eye on her son and don't they understand the situation and do they let patients simply wander about.

"No, Mum," he says as he stands behind her. "They had me chained to the wall, but I managed to escape. Entirely not their fault."

She turns so fast she b.u.mps into him. Then she gives him a hug, which surprises him. Public displays of affection are not done in his family. Yet she hugs him, briefly but tightly, and then she puts her hands on his shoulders, her gaze a.s.sessing him as sharply as Sloane's. She turns to the nurses.

"Has he been seen? I certainly hope he's been seen. He might not claim any injury, but you cannot take his word for it"

"Mum?" he cuts in. "I've been seen. Thoroughly examined. I'm fine."

"Did you get your medication?"

He tries to stifle the twinge of annoyance at the way her voice drops when she says this, rather the same way she talks about her alcoholic brother "having a tipple" in that whispered and embarra.s.sed tone.

"Yes, Mum. I really am fine. Let's leave the nurses alone. They have quite enough to do."

He's leading her away when Sloane comes sweeping down the hall. She gives his mother only the briefest of glances, barely long enough for him to say, "This is my mum," and not waiting for a proper introduction before saying, "Mom says you can come see Riley anytime. Well, not right now because the doctor's in there. But if you want, you can come in before you leave. I'll warn you, Riley isn't conscious, so I don't really see the point."

"I'd still like to see her. Thank you."

A "suit yourself" eye roll, and she starts to walk away and then glances back, and he says, "Yes, I've been warned. Haven't forgotten," and she says, "Good," before swanning off, leaving him smiling after her.

"Pretty girl," his mother says.

He shrugs and looks over to see her giving him a very different sort of a.s.sessment as her eyes narrow.

"No, Mum, I'm not flirting with pretty girls in the hospital. That's just Sloane. Her sister is the one I" He stops. "The one I rescued. Well, no, I didn't actually rescue her. More of a mutual-rescue situation."

He grins at her. She does not smile back. Instead, she says, "I suppose this sister is also very pretty."

"Yes, she's, like, totally hot. Which is the only reason I helped her escape. If she'd been a complete cow, I'd have left her behind."

"There's no need to be s.h.i.+rty, Max."