"Good morning, Olivia." A familiar voice starts as the owner approaches her before sighing. ""Good morning, Dr. Pryce. I feel like a million bucks! I'm feeling stronger every day." Pryce mimics her as he takes of the electrodes of her thighs. A stange voice erupts out of her mouth before she opens her eyes. "It was three months ago." He starts. "It's week 14. Let's see how we're doing."
"I'm feeling as if this recuperation is never gonna end." She answers. "Thanks to you, I'm talking like I shuck corn for a living." As she sits up.
"Learning how to speak all over again takes time."
"Patience, I know, I know. Just spare me your daily "ode to self" where you remind me I was clinically dead, in a coma for two months." She says irritated a bit. "How much longer do you intend to hold me as your gimp hostage?" She asks sarcastically.
"Open wide." She opens her mouth and he checks on her sewed recently tongue."Damn, I'm good." He tells her. "We need to talk about Roman."
"Why? Did he ask about me?" She asks, backing away from him.
"Not exactly. Let's check your lingual dexterity." And she opens her mouth. "Up... Down... Left, right."
"Johann, talk to me." She demands calmly.
"Let's have a look at your leg." He ignores, checking it. "Oh, there's still significant muscle atrophy. An inch and a half difference. To be expected after shortening the adductor magnus to harvest the donor tissue for the lingual transplant." He says, writing down on the clipboard.
"Johann, damn it!" She snaps as she slaps his hand, droping the clipboard off it.
"Your son's been playing master of the universe." He starts. "He's throwing his weight around, snooping through the books. He threatened to terminate me if I don't explain some of our... More sensitive expenditures."
"He has no idea how critical your work is to our family. To him."
"Ironic. He must be starting to get hungry by now." He simply sarcasms.
"Yes." She agrees plainly. "I wonder how he's been satiating."
"I shudder to think."
..................
A car gets parked before a house, Peter gets out of it then glances on the paper in his hand before folding it, he heads to the building and rings the bell. He gets no answer, so he knocks on the door and it's opens with an alarm sound. He gets in slowly and looka around until he sees Roman up the stairs, with a death glare.
"Nice digs." He starts, hesitatingly. "Look, I know things were bad when I split--"
"Fuck you." Roman says coldly.
"Just hear me out."
"Not interested. We're done."
"Lynda's in jail." Peter says and takes a step forward. "I need your help."
"No."
"Fuck. Be mad at me. But this is Lynda we're talking about." Peter begs him.
"Sounds like she fucked up. Not my problem." Roman responds nonchalantly cold.
"She was always good to you." He reminds him. "She's not gonna make it in there."
"What do you want me to do about it?" Roman asks and Peter looks down the floor.
"I need money... To hire a lawyer."
"So you came here to beg." Roman sarcasms, a bit amused.
"Can you please loan me $20,000? I'll pay you back." Peter says with irritated tone.
YOU ARE READING
The Fixer | H.G
Mystery / ThrillerA new resident has just arrived in Hemlock Grove, Nellie Smith. With her family, they will feel the curse of their decision to go to that city.
