Wild by Tina Folsom Read Free Book Online Page A

clinical trials?
    Where the hell was he? What was he doing so long?
    I listened and could hear him cursing and slamming doors, dropping things to the ground. I got a little scared. No wonder he had no girlfriend if he threw temper tantrums like that!
    I waited for what felt like an eternity until I finally heard his footsteps on the stairs. I heard him pause before he came in. He carried a stainless steel tray with medical instruments, but I wasn’t interested in that. I looked at his face trying to read him.
    He walked toward the couch, but stopped when he saw my apprehensive look.
    “Annette.” It was only the second time he had called me by my name. His voice was so tender again, and against my better judgment my fear and caution started melting away. I didn’t say anything, but just looked at him.
    Slowly he moved closer, checking my expression constantly. As he stood in front of the couch he finally spoke again.
    “I owe you an explanation.”
    I nodded.
    Yes, you do, buddy.
    I was unable to speak, afraid my voice would crack. My emotions were all muddled. I was afraid of what he had to tell me, but I wasn’t afraid of him. The look in his eyes told me I did not have to fear him.
    He sat the tray down onto the coffee table. His movements were slow and careful as if he was trying not to scare me. His eyes were fixed at me and were seeking approval to sit down. He surprised me when instead of sitting down on the couch he sat down on the floor right in front of me, facing me.
    I could feel instantly he had chosen this position because it was completely non-threatening. He looked up at me and gave me a faint smile.
    “I’m sorry, Annette. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he started quietly.
    I wanted to say something.
    “Please, let me explain,” he begged. “I know a lot about clinical trials, believe me.”
    I did.
    “I recognized the name of the doctor whose trial you participated in. And I know what kind of research he does.” He stopped to look at my reaction.
    “I won’t bore you with medical jargon, but last night when this little time bomb …” he pointed to the item he had removed from my thigh, “… went off, your vital signs went off the charts. I’d thought I’d found it in time and was able to remove most of the serum before it entered your blood stream. But with your uneven heartbeat, your flushed face and all the other symptoms you have, I’m not so sure now. I can’t risk that there’s anything left in your blood.”
    I stopped him. “What serum?”
    “If I am right in my assumptions, then he injected you with a serum which has the capability of mutating your genes.”
    The word mutate made me hold my breath. He saw my fearful look and took my hand.
    “I’ve followed his research. I don’t think it’s advanced enough yet. The serum hasn’t had enough time yet to alter your cells. There’s still time.” He looked at the tray with his instruments and bottles.
    “I need you to trust me.” He looked into my eyes and I could not tear myself away from them. I felt like sinking to the bottom of the ocean, floating without aim.
    “I will give you a compound which will enter your blood stream and seek out any foreign cells in your body and destroy them. Unfortunately this will also mean it will destroy the morphine still in your body. You’ll feel the pain in your leg.”
    He searched in my eyes.
    “Will it work?”
    “As long as the serum hasn’t entered your cells’ building blocks yet it will. I promise you.”
    “And if it has?”
    His expression was suddenly pained. “I need you to stay positive. Will you do that for me?”
    I swallowed hard. Here I sat on the couch of a stranger who I had met only a very short time ago, a stranger who was still holding my hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and didn’t know what to say. I closed my eyes trying to think straight. Had I lost my mind? Why did I trust him? It wasn’t natural.
    “And …” he