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Chapter 18
I wake up sore all over; the Novocaine has worn off and my body aches. I don’t mind it though, not one bit. It’s a sign that I’m free — Anton can’t track me anymore. He can’t speak one word and kill me. I’m curious what word was mine. Did he pick something special for me, or would that have been too sentimental? Too irrational?
The sensations lingering in my body aren’t all bad: the pleasure Ingram gave me yesterday still reverberates. I wish we could have done more, if time and my surgical recovery had allowed. At least it won’t take long for me to be whole again. Dr. Grenoble did a fantastic job; I would expect to be in much more pain after what she did, even with medication. According to notes she left for me, I’ll have to wait a couple of days before I can shower to keep the stitches dry. It’s not the end of the world — I don’t plan on going anywhere.
In fact, considering it’s a Monday I should be at the LPN studio preparing for today’s show. Are they wondering where I am, or did Anton’s people provide an excuse? Will they speculate that my disappearance has something to do with yesterday’s attack in New Jersey? Or perhaps they’ll surmise that I’m back in rehab when I don’t show up tomorrow, or the next day or the day after that. Let them say whatever they want — I’m long past caring.
If I never see that studio again, I will die happy. For months I’ve hosted one idiot after another, letting them spout their terrible, uninformed opinions; I’ve made LPN a laughingstock and destroyed the Atwood name. I’m done pretending to be a crank for Anton’s amusement.
What am I going to do, though? Pretend to be dead? Change my name and start a new life somewhere? That won’t be easy; I’m a bit too famous to assume a new identity. Am I supposed to just live in hiding forever? If we’re not going to make the world think I’m dead, will I film some kind of hostage video for Anarchy, Inc.? Will I go to the authorities?
Is it better for Anton to think I’m dead, or to fear what I’ll do if I’m alive? I honestly have no idea. There’s a chance it won’t even matter. Ingram could kill him first. That depends on how soon we can take down the Masters once and for all.
I’m still relaxing in bed when Ingram arrives with breakfast: massive stacks of pancakes, eggs and breakfast sausages with plenty of butter and syrup, as well as a pot of hot coffee.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“I am going to eat all of that,” I say. “I hope you’re aware.”
He laughs.
“By all means,” he says, setting the tray down on the bed.
I tear into the food, savoring every flavor I’ve missed for way, way too long. Every bite awakens a surge of pleasure.
“So what’s the plan for today?” I ask, spreading the butter over my pancakes.
“This is it,” Ingram says. “You should rest and relax — you need to heal, physically and mentally. I was thinking we could watch some TV and movies, we could also just talk, or if there’s a book you’d like… I can send people out to get anything you need. Later we can have a fancy dinner. Candlelight, music…”
“That sounds perfect. But I do want to talk about what comes next.”
Ingram sips his coffee and then leans back on the bed.
“It’s up to you. Where do you want to go from here? We can let the world think you’re dead and I will keep you far from the conflict with Anton. Or, we could reveal that you’re alive and use your influence as an asset. We don’t need to though; whatever you’re comfortable with.”
I don’t know how I could possibly make that decision. While I trust that Ingram will keep me safe either way, I’m definitely not ready to face the world. How can I explain everything I’ve done without it sounding totally crazy? Who will believe me? John? Brendan? After I’ve been forced to cut them out of my life?
“I need time to think about it.”
“Oh, of course,” Ingram says.
“It depends a bit on what you want to do when this is all over. How are you hoping this ends? Like, where will you be once Anton’s dead?”
He smiles, eyes drifting to a place far away.
“I’m not sure. Part of me wants to retire on a private island, somewhere I can leave the world behind. I was a heartbeat away from effectively ruling the world, and it didn’t make me happy. Getting far away from that life could be what I need. I would fish and swim every day. If you were there we could make out under the stars. No one would be trying to kill us, no one would bother us. It would be paradise.”
That all sounds pretty good, of course.
“On the other hand, I think I should perform some form of penance for the things I’ve done. I have an organization capable of doing a lot of good in the world. Eyal is a loyal man, but he’s not the most benevolent. If he was, he never would have worked for me in the first place. But as long as he’s getting paid and can do the work he enjoys, he’ll use his skills for a good purpose. The others will follow suit. Fighting people like the Masters could be how I make up for my past.”
Is it, though? I haven’t given the matter much thought. He’s committed more crimes than I’ll likely ever know. He’s murdered people — he abducted me. Some of it he had good reasons to do, but it doesn’t change the fact he worked at the behest of some truly terrible people. I don’t want to lose him, though I don’t know if what he’s done to help me absolves him of his past. Depending on who’s judging him, he could already have paid his debt or he could spend his life trying and never succeed. I’m too biased to say which it is, if I’m being honest with myself. The decision shouldn’t be up to me.
“I wish I could tell you which was right,” I say.
He smiles.
“Whichever it is, I’ll be happy as long as I’m with you. But I’d like to do the right thing. What about you? If you could hit the reset button on your life, what would you want to do?”
