The Masked Truth(63)

“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 friendship, 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-pass 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-class 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 bumps 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 assessing 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 embarrassed 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 assessment 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.”