The Virgin Master (45 page)

“Of course Dr. Hatcher.”

Marta sped off to Jeremy’s room to get fresh jeans. She also got a different shirt and some clean boxer briefs. Tom cut Jeremy’s jeans
and underwear away from his body and
groaned
when he saw the extent of new damage Jeremy had done to himself. He quickly numbed both legs and redid the ruined stitches. Hating himself he told Jeremy he had to examine him anally as well. Rolling his eyes Jeremy let Tom put a pillow under his hips and spread his legs. A couple of stitches had torn loose and Tom quickly repaired him.

Tom found that Jeremy’s blood pressure was elevated and his temperature was below normal. He needed to get some fluids into him.

Jeff arrived just as Tom finished with his repairs and Jeremy was trying to put on the clean clothing Marta brought out for him. Jeff and Tom both helped him with his clothing and Jeff sighed as Jeremy held out his leash.

“Tom, do you think they really will let Jeremy into the citizen’s ward to see Evan?”

“Where is he?”

“At University.”

Tom sucked in a breath, gnawing on his lower lip. “Damn. No, they probably won’t even let him into that side of the hospital.”

Jeremy sank down on the couch and put his head in his hands. Tom shifted nervously on his feet.

“You up for a risk?” Tom eyed Jeff.

Jeff smiled softly. “I think I see where you’re going. Jeremy?”

Jeremy looked up at him, hopelessness written all over his body.

“Where does Evan keep the key to your collar?”

“Why?” Jeremy thought for a minute and then smirked. “In the kitchen on the key rack.”

“Of course he does,” Tom laughed. It would never have occurred to Evan to put the key somewhere Jeremy couldn’t get to it.

Jeff went in the kitchen and came back with a small key.

"
This looks like the only one that would fit; Lean forward for me.”

Jeremy leaned forward, giving Jeff access to the nape of his neck. Jeff unlocked and removed the collar. Tom leaned forward to see if there were any visible marks. There were.

“If he wore a dress shirt and a tie…”

“Okay.” Jeff went into the master bedroom and came out with a suit, shirt and tie. “If we dress him up and take him into the hospital in a wheelchair, people won’t even look at him.”

Tom winced. Slaves were never seen in wheelchairs because if they ever got that damaged they had to be euthanized under the law. No one would ever even think about checking.

“Guys, I’ve been on the news a whole lot lately. Me and Evan both. What if somebody recognizes me?”

Jeff swallowed hard. “All of those pictures show you in slave posture, with your head down, or from the back. I don’t think any of them show your face. I’ll take full responsibility and claim that I ordered you to participate because I knew….wait that won’t work.”

“No,” Tom muttered, “you certainly can’t say that you knew Evan would need to see him. That would start the whole ‘inappropriate emotional attachment’ crap all over again.”

Jeff nodded. “We just won’t get caught. Evan used to wear glasses, before he was able to get corrective laser surgery
. A
re there any of those still around?”

“He still does to read sometimes if the print’s really small. There’s a pair in the bedroom on the table on the right side of the bed.”

Jeff got the glasses and Jeremy put them on. Then Tom pulled Jeremy’s hair back into a sleek pony tail and tied it with some clear plastic suture. Jeff studied Jeremy.

“You look different enough now from the pictures on the news that a casual glance won’t recognize
you
.T
he
wheelchair should minimize your height and put your face on a level low enough that people would have to make the effort to bend over to see you if you keep your head down. Are you willing to take the chance?”

“Evan needs me. I think if we move quickly enough and I work on a laptop or hold a phone up to my ear or something, nobody will notice me, or think that I look like a slave. I want to try.”

Jeff nodded his head quickly. “I’ll call and tell Allen what we’re about to do so he can meet us. If we can get enough people around you that will help, too.”

“Be sure your sleeve covers your ID tattoo at all times,” Tom reminded him, handing him the crutches. “I’m getting a bottle of Gatorade from your fridge. You need to drink it all to keep your head clear.” Tom glared at him until Jeremy nodded in agreement.

Before Jeremy had too much time to change his mind, the two men had put him in his suit and Jeff herded him out the door and toward the elevator. Automatically, Jeremy dropped his eyes and put on an impassive face. Jeff nudged him with an elbow to the ribs and Jeremy looked up and grinned at him, feeling free for the first time in months.

They were driven to the hospital by one of the James’ limos and Jeff went inside for a wheelchair. Finishing the bottle of Gatorade, Jeremy took a deep breath and felt as if he were diving into the ocean as Jeff pushed him rapidly through the door to the Citizen’s Entrance of the hospital. Jeremy kept his head up and ignored the guards at the door and the elevator. He made idle conversation with Jeff but he had no idea what he was saying. All it would take to ruin the rest of his life, and Evan’s, would be a spark of recognition. No one looked at them twice.

Once in the VIP private waiting area, Jeremy relaxed from one set of worries to be beset by worrying about Evan. As Allen outlined Evan’s injuries, Jeremy held his breath. They certainly weren’t insignificant. The bullet had gone straight through but left a trail of destruction in its wake. 

A chunk of rib had been propelled through his lung after being splintered
. H
is esophagus had been lacerated by a bone sliver
. B
one had chipped off a vertebra and entered his spinal cord. The doctors reported earlier being able to clean out and repair the
             
lung and esophagus
. C
urrently
,
the surgical team worked to minimize any damage to Evan’s spinal cord. At the level the bullet went through, Evan stood the risk of losing all feeling below his mid-chest region. Of course there was always stem cell therapy; but that only worked 25% of the time.

Jeremy’s heart ached for Allen and for Evan. He probed his own feelings about the possibility of Evan being permanently and catastrophically disabled. He found nothing but a profound desire to take care of Evan however he could be of service. Just being able to talk to him and be in his company would be precious.

Trying to distract all of them, Jeff asked Jeremy to review some contracts and a buy-out schedule for their current acquisition target. Jeremy obediently stared at the documents, but the persistent image of Evan falling to the floor, prevented him from concentrating. After the initial nervous flurry of chatter, the three men gave up any pretense of being sanguine and each withdrew into his own little bubble of silent worry to wait out the surgery.

Hours went by. Allen fell asleep with his head back against the wall. Jeff paced nervously for a while and then sat with his head in his hands for a while. Then he repeated the cycle. Jeremy fought his increasingly darker thoughts.

He wondered if God would punish Evan because
Jeremy
killed Frank. That would get both of them at once. He agonized over what he would do if Evan died. He didn’t want to belong to Jeff. He would want to die. But that was the very same mindset he and everyone else had worked to cajole Evan out of. He would be a great big hypocrite if he killed himself because Evan died.

He decided he didn’t care. He couldn’t look anywhere but at a stain on the floor that somewhat resembled a cow. Occasionally the vision of Evan being shot and falling to the floor replayed over the cow.

He didn’t want to look at the clock or Jeff’s watch. He chewed his lip and prayed. He tried not to notice that the dark outside the window faded slowly to gray.

He refused to believe that the surgeons would work to save Evan this long and still fail. His eyes scratched in their sockets like they were coated with sand and salt. He felt nothing; but he could sense at the edges of his consciousness terrible emotions hanging on the brink ready to sweep down and take his life and his sanity. He felt neither hunger nor thirst although it had been hours since he’d had anything to eat or drink. His life appeared suspended; waiting.

The morning sun grew gradually brighter and streamed through the windows
,
insulting in the face of Jeremy’s agony. Allen woke up when the sun reached his face and started violently, nearly falling to the floor as realization of where he was and how much time had probably passed ripped through him. He caught Jeremy’s eye and Jeremy slowly shook his head and returned to studying his cow.

Jeff looked up and clapped his hands down on his thighs.

“Anybody want any coffee? Breakfast?”

Allen and Jeremy both silently shook their heads.  Silence rang more loudly in the wake of Jeff’s voice. The men avoided each other’s eyes. Jeremy stared at the wall over Allen’s head watching the sun creep across the room heralding the
passage
of time. Sean Murrow showed up around noon trying to cajole them into eating lunch. Jeff gave in and accepted the take-out bag Sean shoved in his face. Jeremy thought about eating and felt nauseous. Sean hid his surprise over Jeremy’s presence well, although Jeremy saw it clearly flickering in his eyes.

Sean sat down next to Jeremy. “You know if the worst happens…”

“Evan told me about his will.”

“I hope he also told you he didn’t want you to do anything stupid if something happened to him.”

*****

Jeremy turned to face Sean; Sean caught his breath. He
             
had never seen Jeremy’s true face and the intelligence and depth of sorrow held in the slave’s eyes cut Sean to the core. Jeremy
             
smiled, an awful smile full of pain.

“Sean; I think it’s stupid to torture yourself, don’t you? Why would I want to continue to live life as a slave without Evan? Why would I want to live at all? At least Evan had the option to get over Justin
and
go on with his life. What in the world would I do? Live like a shadow in your house? Help with the laundry? Even if Evan and I hadn’t fallen in love with each other, at least the work I did at James suited me down to the ground.”

Allen overheard. “Jeremy, I would want you to continue working there if you liked. Jeff would be the obvious choice to take over for Evan and you already work well with him.”

Jeremy stared at Allen incredulously. “You’ve already thought about this?”

“Evan wouldn’t want the company and its thousands of employees to suffer because he…can’t be there anymore.”

Slowly Jeremy nodded. “That makes sense. Thanks, Allen. I’ll try that if I have to.”
If I can’t find a way to kill myself.

Suddenly an influx of doctors swarmed the waiting room. They all looked haggard and exhausted.

“Mr. James?”

Allen stood. “I’m Evan’s father, but you can share whatever you have to tell me with everyone in here. They are all close friends.”

“I’m Dr. Wilson. We have repaired all the damage to Evan that we can. You already know about his lung and his esophagus. Those injuries should heal with no residual disability. Unfortunately the vertebra shattered by the bullet broke into extremely fine pieces. Almost hair like. These bone splinters pierced Evan’s spinal cord in numerous places. We were able to withdraw them. We think we
got them all, but honestly, some of the fragments were nearly too small to be seen unaided. He could be totally unharmed; he could be paralyzed or partially paralyzed; he could be left with intractable back pain. We won’t have any idea until he recovers consciousness. Right now we have put him in a chemically induced coma to prevent him from moving and to help with pain management without resorting to massive doses of narcotics.”