Page 43 of The Heights

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Thankfully, Aiden understands. “That’s something, but I’ll let the team conduct their tests if they feel it is necessary.”

“I agree. I can’t tell whether she is telling the truth or trying to hide it.”

“I’ll warn them. Are you okay?”

“Fine.” It’s an automatic response, and we both know it.

“There’s no such thing.”

Typical Aiden, pushing for the truth. I give it to him. “I’m angry, guilty, tired, sick to my stomach.”

“I hear you. Better to say it out loud than to carry it.” I appreciate that he’s not trying to deny my feelings or brush them off. He feels them too, and regardless of whether it was our fault, we also share in the blame. Aiden reaches out and captures my hand. Squeezing it once before letting go.

My eyes catch a familiar outline of a sharp suit and sharper jawline appearing from the rooms on the mezzanine floor. Dax descends the stairs; his phone pressed to his ear as he barks commands to whoever sits on the other end of the line. He glances up once and looks straight through me before flicking his eyes away. I’d have dismissed it as him being reasonably distracted if not for Aiden’s heavy grunt of annoyance.

He disconnects the call just before he draws alongside us. “Is she inside?” he asks Aiden, nodding to the door behind us.

“Yeah. She’s bruised, but otherwise okay. Or so she says.”

“The team is waiting at the compound for her. I’m getting her out of here. Run a forensic examination of the bedrooms.” Dax’s phone rings. He holds up his hand to silence us as he answers. “What?” His expression sharpens, anger stiffening his jaw as he grinds his teeth at whatever news he’s receiving. “Who fuckingnotified the police?” He begins pacing. One, two three steps, then turn. “What do they want him for?” He hisses,‘fucking arseholes’before continuing. “No, don’t argue with them. Hand him over. We don’t have much choice. Is the second man still in the elevator? Yes, good. Don’t even mention him. We’ll get him out through another floor. They’ll not get both of them.” He points at Aiden and gestures with his finger. Aiden pulls his phone out at once and begins dialling. “Tell Team One to disperse back to the compound once they hand him over. Go grudgingly but let them think we’re done. Text when it’s clear.”

Aiden lifts his phone to his ear and starts giving instructions to the second team.

“We have local police interference in the lobby. Take him out on the second floor. Send a scout to check the fire exit. Get him out through a back door…any back door. We’ve lost one. We’ll not let them take both.”

“Have they got this?” Dax barks.

“Of course,” Aiden replies and then turns to me. “Jules, can you go and make sure Sylvie’s getting ready?”

“Sure.” I head into the room, but they’re arguing before I even turn my back to them.

“What the fuck was that Dax?”

“Get off my back, Aiden. I don’t have the capacity to do anything other than focus on one problem at a time. Right now, that’s Sylvie. I’ll need you to take Jules somewhere. I want Sylvie to feel safe in her own home.”

“Fucking prick! You really need to work on how you say things.” Aiden nods to me, but I duck into Sylvie’s room before I can see Dax’s reaction to my eavesdropping.

Sylvie appears from the bathroom, her face clean and fresh, wearing one of her pretty sundresses. She shoves her things into a small case—one she must have taken to stay at the hospital—she glances up at me and whispers, “I’m ready to leave now.”

“Okay.” I walk to the ensuite and stick my head in, calling out, “Did you get everything?” as I scan the room. Nothing in the bin. Nothing on the sides. Two wet towels dumped in a hamper, and the shower floor still pooled with water droplets from a recent shower. My stomach twists at what I suspect, but I don’t shy away from asking either.

“Did you just shower?”

“Do I look like an idiot? As much as I fucking need one…no. No, I didn’t shower. I’m aware that they’re going to prod me and violate my privacy. No one will believe me otherwise, right?”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. That’s the whole fucking point of the team, isn’t it? To protect you? To defend you if someone forced you. To give you the evidence you need to have them punished, because you’re right, no court of law is going to believe you at your word. If you don’t want to, if you truly don’t need to, no one is going to force you. The team is with you, not against you.”

“Whatever. Anyway, who takes a shower in five minutes and still has dry hair? You might be nosy, Jules, but your observation skills clearly suck,” she jokes half-heartedly. The edge of irritation still laces each word with barbs.

“Dax is outside. Want me to let him in or are you coming out?”

“Is everyone still out there?”

“No, Connor is safe and on his way to the hospital. Those men are gone. Dax and Aiden are outside with a small team of theirs.”

“Can you ask Dax to come in?”

“Okay.”