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15
My hands gripthe side-rail of the hospital bed with a strength that genuinely scares me. The needle inside of my chest swings wildly between rage and concern.
I am the angel of death, ready to burn the world to find out how this happened.
I am broken, falling apart at the seams in a way that terrifies me as I look down at Ella, lying in the hospital bed.
She smiles weakly, but there’s no ignoring the fear in her eyes. Especially with the added information the police have just dropped on us.
“I’m fine,” she shrugs, immediately wincing.
My hand loses its death grip on the railing. Without really even knowing what I’m doing, it drifts down to the bed, taking her hand softly. My teeth grit, my eyes burning hotly into hers before my gaze drags up to the police detectives standing by the door.
“I wantnames,” I growl quietly.
The detectives swallow, glancing at each other. Finally, the older one, a detective Sorenson, clears his throat.
“Beg your pardon, Mr. Ransom. We’ll be of course keeping you abreast of the investigation. But…” he furrows his brow, like he’s trying to figure out if I’m fucking with him or not.
I’m not.
“Sir, we can’t give you suspects’ names—”
“You can,” I grunt. “Because it will be extremely worth your—”
“Boss.”
Liam clears his throat from his perch in the corner of the room. When I glance at him, he subtly shakes his head.
“Noel.”
I look down. Ella squeezes my hand, smiling weakly at me.
“Let’s just let them do their jobs, okay?”
The two detectives nod.
“Best recovery, Mrs. Ransom,” Sorenson adds. “And don’t worry. We’ll find the prick.”
When they leave, I turn back to Liam.
“Yep, I’m already on it,” he growls, grabbing his coat and slipping out the door.
Sometimes, accidents happen. Cars careen out of control. Elevators break. A roof collapses. A hundred and fifty kilogram spool of high-tensile, copper-lined ethernet cabling snaps from its safety tether and drops forty feet to smash into a solid-wood boardroom table.
Thoseare accidents.
But when the solid-wood boardroom tableexplodeson impact, due to the homemade incendiary device wired to the bottom of it?
That’s no longer accident.
Someone tried to kill her.
There are no casualties, mercifully. An intern caught a concussion from a flying piece of boardroom table to the head, but he’s fine. Ella was hit with bits of smoldering cinders from the table. And though it was tempered glass meant to basically turn into pebbles and not shards when it’s broken, the sheer force of the glass door exploding next to her peppered her with tiny glass BBs.
She’s got some bruises, and a nasty hit to the head that’s needed to be bandaged. And some fresh burns. But she’s okay. She’ll be okay.
My hand squeezes hers.
