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“Shaw! He’s dead. He’s dead.”
Reggie tried to pull him off, but he used one big arm to knock her off her feet. Then, seeming to realize what had happened, Shaw jumped up and raced to Katie. He checked her pulse but couldn’t find one. He straddled her, pumped her chest, then pinched her nose and blew air into her mouth. He pumped and blew. Pushing down on her chest, forcing air into lungs that refused to expand. But then she finally gave a moan, her body jerked, and she took an enormous breath.
Shaw looked up at Reggie, who’d raced over next to him. “Help me. Please.”
While Shaw cradled Katie’s head in his arms, Reggie opened her shirt and checked the wound.
“It went through her,” she said. “But it entered very close to her heart.” She dressed the wound and stopped the bleeding as best as she could. Shaw called Frank and told him what had happened. They were bringing a medical team with them, he told Shaw.
As Katie slowly breathed in and out, Reggie sat back on her haunches, looked over at Whit, who lay on the dirt clutching his leg and quietly moaning. Next, she stared over at Kuchin’s battered body and she remembered something. “May God understand why I do this,” she mumbled, then crossed herself.
When Reggie noticed that Shaw’s arm was bleeding she pulled up his sleeve, saw the bullet track scored into his skin.
“You fouled his shot,” she said.
“What?” said Shaw.
“His shot hit your arm before it hit her. You screwed the trajectory. He was probably aiming for her head. From what he said, he thought it was a kill shot for certain.”
Shaw looked at Katie, clearly not interested in this. “I’m the reason she got shot in the first place.”
“Shaw, you saved her life.”
“Not yet,” he said, a sob escaping his lips. “Not yet.” He held Katie as tightly as he could, as though that would prevent life from leaving her. And from the woman leaving him.
101
KATIE AND WHIT were treated on the plane by a medical team Frank had brought. When they landed in Boston they were both rushed to a trauma hospital. Shaw, Reggie, and Frank sat in the waiting room for hours, Frank drinking cup after cup of bad vending-machine coffee while Shaw just stared at the floor. The doctors came out to tell them that Whit was fine and would fully recover. Then more hours passed.
Shaw stirred when a tall man and woman walked past the waiting room. It was Katie’s parents. He recognized them from a photo she’d once shown him. They looked both exhausted and frantic. They were with their daughter for an hour before they came back out and into the waiting room.
Shaw remembered that Katie had told him her father was an English professor. He was tall and spare, his hair mostly gray. Katie’s mother looked like her daughter, slim and blonde, same eyes, same way of walking.
Katie’s father said, “They told us that you helped our daughter.” He directed this at Shaw. Shaw could barely lift his head to look at the man. He tried to speak, but couldn’t. He looked back down, his guilt paralyzing him.
“Thank you,” said Katie’s mother.
Shaw still couldn’t look at them.
Sensing what he was going through, Frank rose and escorted the Jameses out of the room, talking to them in a low voice. He came back in later and sat next to Shaw. “I put them in another waiting room. They’re calling the rest of the family.”
Reggie glanced over at him. “How is Katie?”
Frank said, “Still touch and go apparently. They still don’t know the extent of the damage.”
More hours passed. Frank had gotten some food from the cafeteria for them, but only he and Reggie ate any of it. Shaw just kept staring at the floor. Then they saw Katie’s parents come out of the intensive care unit again.
From the looks on their faces the news was good. Katie’s mother came over to Shaw. This time he rose and she hugged him. “She’s going to make it,” the woman said. “She’s out of danger.” This came out in a gush of relief. Her husband shook Shaw’s hand. “I don’t know what really happened, but I do want to thank you with all my heart for helping to save her life.”
After a few more minutes they left to call Katie’s siblings and give them the good news.
Shaw just stood there staring at his feet.
“You did help save her, Shaw,” said Frank.
Shaw waved off his comment with a short thrust of his hand.
Reggie said, “Shaw, you need to go in and see her.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t have that right,” he said between gritted teeth. He clenched and unclenched his hands, looked like he wanted to put both fists through the wall. “She almost died because of me. And her parents are thanking me for saving her. It’s not right. None of that is right.”
Reggie gripped his face and turned it so he was forced to look at her. “You need to go and see her.”
“Why?” he said fiercely.
“Because she deserves that.”
Their gazes locked for what seemed like forever. Reggie slowly released him and stepped back.
Shaw moved silently past her and left the waiting room. A few minutes later he was standing next to Katie’s bed. Tubes covered her; machines surrounded her. The nurse told Shaw he only had a minute, then she retreated, leaving them alone. He picked up Katie’s hand, holding it gently.
“I’m sorry, Katie. About a lot of things.”
He knew she was full of pain meds and wasn’t conscious, but he had to say these things. If he didn’t he felt he would combust.
“I shouldn’t have left you in Zurich. I should have come after you sooner in Paris. I…” He faltered, fell silent. “I really, really care about you. And…” The tears started to trickle down his cheeks and he drew a ragged breath, felt sick to his stomach. He bent down and kissed her hand. As soon as he did, he felt her fingers tighten slightly around his hand. He looked at her face. She was still unconscious, but she had squeezed his hand.
He saw the nurse staring at him from the doorway.
“Good-bye, Katie,” he said, finally letting her go.
102
SURE YOU don’t want me to drive?” Frank said. He’d just climbed in the passenger seat of their rental.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Shaw drove faster than he should have to the airport.
Frank looked over nervously from time to time, but seemed loath to break the silence. Finally, he said, “We found the rest of Kuchin’s boys, all dead, all except for this Pascal guy. He was nowhere to be found.”
“Good for him.” Shaw’s gaze never veered from the road ahead.
“You sure you don’t want to stay around here? I can get you the time off. You can be there when Katie leaves the hospital.”
“The only thing I’m going to do is get as far away from her as I possibly can.”
“But Shaw-”
Shaw slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a rubber-burning stop as horns blared all around them and cars whizzed past on either side.
“What the hell are you doing?” exclaimed a stu
Shaw’s face was red; his big body shook like he was suffering from meth withdrawal. “She almost died because of me. And it wasn’t the first time. So I am never going near her because this is never going to happen again, Frank. Do you understand me?”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Frank had seen Shaw under virtually every situation imaginable, but he had never seen him like this.
Later that night Shaw and Frank boarded a British Airways 777 at Boston ’s Logan Airport that would take them to London by the next morning. During the flight Frank watched a movie, had some drinks and di
Shaw spent the entire six-hour-and-twenty-minute flight staring out the window. When they landed the men cleared customs at Heathrow and walked toward the exits.