Chapter 7

• CHAPTER 7 I THINK ABOUT HER
• Sawyer Mackenzie
• Tick-tock, tick-tock. The relentless sound of the clock echoed in my ears, marking the passage of time with cruel precision. At each ticking, she kept herself caught up in my thoughts, like a lingering shadow that I couldn't clear. It had been two days since I had left her in the hospital, and I felt like the most miserable man in the world for having abandoned her to her fate. I couldn't shake the weight of guilt, hoping that the envelope I'd left at the front desk would provide her with some financial relief, especially now that her husband had left her with nothing.
• The light on my phone flickered, interrupting my tormented thoughts. He was my private investigator.
• "Mr. Mackenzie?"
• "Tell me, Gómez. What's new in your game? "
• "Sir, I thought Miss Owen might have some food supply in the room, I don't know. Tell me what I should do? "
• "Keep an eye on it and send me the location." I leave there immediately.
• An overwhelming need to see Megan and confirm with my own eyes that she was okay washed over me. It seemed inconceivable to me that he had not given signs in two days. That wasn't normal!
• I went down to the parking lot of my building. As I drove to my vehicle, the phone began to vibrate. I looked at the caller ID: "Danielle, calling." I rolled my eyes and declined the call for the fifth time. I would solve that problem later.
• "Rigoberto, take me to this address, please," I sent him the information, and he began to prepare the route.
• "At once, sir. Even though that place is a bit dangerous, are you sure we should go there? " He asked while looking at me in the rearview mirror.
• "Dangerous? All the more reason we must go! Hurry up! "
• My driver nodded and the car darted at high speed through the crowded streets of the city. Within fifteen minutes, we arrived in front of a humble inn in a marginal suburb. The bustle of the surroundings, the suspicious looks of the neighbors and, above all, the hostile expression of the landlady, awakened a growing uneasiness in me.
• "Good afternoon, ma'am. I'm looking for a woman, Megan Owen. She has been staying here for two days."
• The woman, similar in age to mine, but disheveled, with few teeth and a cigar dangling from her mouth, looked me up and down with disdain.
• "Were you the one who hit her?" She asked, defiantly.
• I felt my cheeks redden, and I vehemently shook my head.
• "No, of course not. I'm a friend and I came to look for her because I'm worried about her."
• "I can't give you any information, friend of Megan's. I'm not sure, you are not the guy who hurt her pretty little face," the woman muttered, taking a puff on her cigarette disdainfully.
• I rolled my eyes and pulled a small wad of bills out of my pocket, placing them on the makeshift counter on the wall.
• "Will this be enough for you to give me information?"
• The woman smiled that showed her unkempt teeth and came out from behind the counter.
• "Come in, my friend. She hasn't been out for two days, I don't know if she's alive or dead," she said as she shrugged.
• "What?"
• The woman led me to a room at the end of a dark hallway, barely lit by a dim, dim light. I knocked on the door twice but got no response.
• "Are you sure, ma'am, that this is Miss Owen 's room?"
• "Of course! I accompanied her myself. The poor thing was so dejected that I gave her the best things I had," the woman smiled again, causing a new displeasure in me.
• I hit again, this time harder.
• "Megan, are you there? It's me, Sawyer. It is crucial that we talk."
• I put my ear to the door and consumed with despair, continued to knock insistently, but the answer remained the same.
• "Do you want the key?" The woman, with her hands on her huge breasts, looked at me expectantly. I nodded. But it's going to cost him.
• I rolled my eyes once more and pulled out another wad of bills.
• "Move, ma'am. We don't know what we're going to find."
• The woman accepted the money and handed me the keys. With trembling hands, I tried to open the door. As she did so, a sickening smell of mold, dirt, and human decay escaped from the room.
• I looked up at the bed and saw Megan, lying there, small and vulnerable. Time seemed to stand still.
• The landlady put her hands to her mouth, clearly alarmed, as I approached the young woman's lifeless figure.
• "Megan, oh, my God! What happened?"
• I carefully lifted her up, and she opened her eyes slowly. When she saw me, she shook her head.
• "You again?" she snapped.
• The landlady breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that there was no corpse in the room.
• "Yes, me again, and I'll be whenever you need me to."
• I lifted her by the waist as if she were a little girl. With her little strength, she placed her arm on my shoulder, and so, cradled like a helpless creature, I pulled her out of that horrible place.
• "Thank you, ma'am," I said to the landlady as I walked out with Megan in my arms.
• I returned to my car, with the frail woman carried in my arms. Rigoberto, attentive as always, ran to open the door for me.
• "To the hospital, sir?"
• "No, Rigoberto. To my mansion. I will look for a private doctor. If I took her to a hospital, she would probably escape from me and plunge back into that depressing state."
• Minutes later, we parked in front of my imposing steel and cement mansion, a structure that masqueraded as a home. It was a beautiful place, designed by the best architects in the country, with luxuries that dazzled, but stained by the most bitter loneliness that any man could know.
• I took Megan to my room, unable to bear the thought of leaving her in the guest room. I gently laid her down on my bed and called my family doctor. As he arrived, I prepared a cup of warm water and, with a damp cloth, began to wipe his face, still marked by the traces of Mason 's cruelty.
• She began to move her lips as she felt the moisture from the cloth, showing signs of dehydration. I searched my medicine cabinet for a bottle of whey, carefully picked it up, and placed it on my pillow. With a spoon, I began to take small ships, and she, in an automatic reflex, drank without resistance.
• However, her beautiful blue eyes remained closed, her skin looked extremely dry, and her visibly thin body barely hid the bones. It was not an oversight of only two days; Megan had been suffering in silence for some time.
• I laid her back on the bed when Mirta, my employee, announced:
• "Sir, Dr. Grajales has arrived."
• "Tell him to come in, please."
• Dr. Grajales entered the room and was stunned to see Megan.
• "My dear friend, how are you?" He said he was unable to take his eyes off Megan. "Aren't you the one who is sick?"
• "No, my friend, it's her. He hasn't eaten for two days, he tried to take his own life before, and he's been a victim of many things," I sighed. "She has been a victim of many things. Could you please check it out? "
• Grajales nodded, went to my private bathroom and prepared to serve her. He approached Megan and began checking her vital signs. He placed a cannula and began to administer serum.
• "Well, she's dehydrated, but it's not serious. Their physical condition is deteriorated, but nothing that is not solved with rest and a good diet."
• "She also needs vitamins and an urgent visit to the psychiatrist. How did she get to this state? "Grajales asked, worriedly.
• "It's a long story, Grajales. Thank you. I will follow your orders to the letter."
• "For now, you must let her rest. Change those clothes, they stink."
• I smiled, realizing that, deep in my worry, I hadn't noticed that Megan was smelly and dirty.
• "I will.”
• "Anything, call. Here are all the recipes and instructions."
• "Thank you, Grajales. I'll be in touch."
• My GP left and I walked over to the bed. Megan was fast asleep, and her cheeks were no longer so pale, thanks to the hydration and medication Grajales had given her. I let her rest; I didn't care at all about the bad smell it emanated, but without her permission, I wouldn't touch it or change it. She had to wait for her to wake up so that she could do it herself.
• I went down to my office and started working from home. Strangely, I was relieved to think that Megan was in a safe place, away from Mason. However, my mind was still haunted by Amelie.
• Perhaps my empathy for Megan was because she was in a similar situation to my younger sister. If I lost Amelie, I would lose everything in life. There were only the two of us left, but she was rebellious, impetuous and capricious. He was more than sure that Mason was just another one of his whims.
• Again, my phone rang insistently. It was the sixth time he had rejected her call; I had unfinished business to attend to. Night was approaching, and I didn't know if Megan had woken up, so I went upstairs to check on her. She was still fast asleep.
• I prepared a large armchair that was in my room, placed a pillow on the edge and wrapped myself in a flannel. That night, that's how I slept.
• "Pss, hey, Mackenzie," a sweet voice roused me from my dreams. I opened my eyes slowly, and a sharp pain in my neck came over me. Torticollis, damn my luck.
• "Shit!" What a pain. I remembered who the intruder was in my bed and turned to look at her. Megan watched me, still lying down, but her beautiful eyes were open and fixed on me.
• With difficulty, feeling that everything was creaking in me—I imagine because of my age—I slowly got up and approached her.
• "Hello, Megan. How are you feeling? "
• "Then you're real," she said with a somewhat sarcastic smile.
• "Yes, I think I am, and more real than others." It hurts me to the soul to have slept in that chair.
• "What am I doing here?" She asked, somewhat confused.
• "I went to rescue you from that smelly pigsty where you decided to stay, but I see that the cost of living is expensive. Didn't you have enough money for more?"
• Megan laughed resignedly.
• "I needed to save money for a long time; I'm on the street."
• "Correction, you were on the street."
• "What is this palace?" she asked, looking around in amazement.
• "It's my home, and you can stay here as long as you need. I found out that your husband kicked you out of your house after you came back from the hospital and that you have nowhere to go."
• Megan pursued her lips and blinked quickly to hold back tears.
• "Why do you know so much about me?" she asked, her voice breaking.
• I sighed.
• "Forgive me for what I have to tell you, but I've been following you, Megan."
• She straightened up with difficulty and, angrily, reproached:
• "What? Are you crazy? Why you are following me? "
• "I've already told you why: I want to help you, and you help me."
• Megan slumped against the pillow again.
• "Your sister is a bad woman, who has caused me a lot of pain."
• Embarrassed, I looked at her and replied:
• "I know. I don't know how to apologize for everything you've been through."
• "I know, Megan, and I'm so sorry you're going through that pain. But I want her to open her eyes and leave that man. If she were to suffer the same as you, she would not forgive me."
• "No one is going to suffer the same as me. Only I, Mackenzie, allowed that. Now, I must go. "
• Megan tried to get up, but felt a pain when moving her hand, still connected to the serum.
• "Oh! I'm trapped. How am I going to leave? "
• "I caught you with a bag of serum; You were dehydrated. "I went to the table, took out some gauze and some alcohol. I knew exactly how to remove the channel. I took her hand and shuddered as I felt the touch of her skin.
• Carefully, I removed the catheter and placed a small cotton gauze pad to stop the bleeding. I put the rest of the supplies on the table and looked at them.
• "It's ready. Now you just need to eat."
• "I will. Thank you for your help." Megan tried to get up, but she turned pale, dizzy, and fell back on the pillow.
• "You don't have to go, Megan. You don't bother me here."
• "It's just that” she hesitated. "I just don't think it's right for me to be here."
• "Why not? I'm going to help you."
• "With what intention?" She asked, staring me in the eye.
• Thousands of ideas were forming in my mind, some good and some not so much, which were too perverted. She was not a man fascinated by lesser women; I preferred mature ones, but Megan's vulnerability seemed to have awakened in me an immense need to have her around.
• "Without any hidden intention. I would like that, if my sister was in a similar situation, someone would also help her."
• "Ah, I understand! His face showed some disappointment. Did he expect anything else?"
• "I'm going to ask Mirta to arrange the guest room so that you can stay there until you recover. And we'll see what happens."
• She nodded. I got up and headed for the door, but he called me.
• "Mackenzie."
• I turned to her.
• "Tell me."
• "Thank you," Megan said, her cheeks blushing a little, and her eyes shining for the first time since our first meeting.
• "There's no need, Miss Megan. For now, try to bathe; it doesn't smell good.
• She smelled her body and made a gesture of displeasure. The smell of dirt filled the room, although for me, it wasn't uncomfortable at all. In fact, I felt that his presence, with all that it implied, filled the space in a way that, surprisingly, was comforting to me.