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We didn’t have much time, and with Emma like this, I needed to get her out of here quickly. I’d successfully copied the hard drive, and when I came back down to the ballroom and didn’t see Emma, I’d panicked and I’d raced down multiple hallways before I heard her screaming. I was halfway down the hall when my blood went cold when I heard Emma. I knew the sound of that scream. I’d heard it before.
Now the source of the man who’d inflicted that scream not once, but twice, had paid. I’d killed him for it. I knew I should have taken him in for interrogation, but I’d lost it.
Seeing another man putting his hands all over Emma, against her will. I’d lost it. The built up anger I’d fostered since Iran. I’d made him suffer too, before I finally put him out. If I’d had more time, I would have made him suffer longer, but I didn’t want to leave Emma alone, not when she’d nearly been– I couldn’t hardly think the words. No, she needed me now more than ever. I hadn’t even realized she’d been drugged when I’d carried her out. I’d just thought she was just in shock. In that, Shah had been lucky I hadn’t dragged it out longer. He deserved to suffer. I panted as I gripped the sink basin, my wild eyes looking back at me in the reflection.
Behind me, Emma stumbled up and raced into the nearest stall and heaved into the toilet. I quickly grabbed the single use hand towels and dampened several under cool water. I squatted next to her in the stall, the two of us barely fitting, and I held back her hair. When she was done, I wiped her mouth with the cool towel, and then her face removing the smeared blood I’d left with my own two hands. I shook my head looking at the all the places my hands had been on her body, and how as I’d checked her, I’d marked each place with the blood on my own hands. I went around the rest of her and spot cleaned the blood off her as best I could. Some of it was on her red dress, and thankfully it wasn’t quite as horrifically obvious as it was on my white button-up shirt.
I moved to pick her up off the bathroom floor. “Did you get it all out?” I asked gently, before I moved her.
She nodded, the color drained from her face, and her hands trembled. “Did you kill him?”
“I did what I had to do.” I said, and she nodded. I gently tried to stand her up. “Can you walk?” I knew she wouldn’t be able to, but I let her try anyway and I was right there to catch her before she pitched forward.
I ran a hand over my face. How was I going to explain this? Get her out of here on her own two feet. And we did need to get out of her quickly before some realized what had happened to Shah. It wouldn’t be long now.
“Fuck it.” I picked her up and threw her over my shoulder, the only way I could hold her and still keep one hand free in case I needed to pull my gun on the way out.
“Just hang in there, baby. I’m gonna get you home.”
She grumbled in response, but she hung limply over me, not bothering to argue, which in and of itself told me how out-of-it she was.
I unlocked the bathroom door and quickly waltzed right through the ballroom. And all the same eyes that had been drooling over Emma just an hour ago, now looked utterly shocked. I just gritted my teeth and made a beeline down the long, carpeted stairs without a word or explanation.
I quickly flagged our driver over, and in the back seat, I pulled her into my lap, cradling her against me as she struggled to stay awake.
“It’s alright baby, you can sleep now. I’ve got you.” That seemed to be the comfort she needed, knowing we were out of that horrible place, because I felt her fully relax against me.
By the time I carried her back up to my bed, she was out like a light. I slipped her heels off and I shook my head as I tucked her in, cocktail dress and all. There was no point in jostling her, for now she just needed to rest, to sleep off the drugs. And covered in my bloody handprints. This was the only time she was going to get to wear her new dress because it was effectively ruined. I knew even if the blood came out, the emotional scars would never wash out of this dress. So for now, I’d let her sleep, fully clothed, peacefully, deeply, fully, while I stayed up, making sure she was safe.
I peeled off my own suit and showered and changed into sweats and a hoodie. I grabbed the data drive out of my suit pocket and I went downstairs to my laptop. I plugged it in and blew out a breath, leaning my lips against my clasped hands as I waited.
I’d downloaded the hard drive quickly, and now it was time to see what was on it. If I was right, Shah was The Viper, and I’d effectively just ended him, and cut the head off the snake.
And I seriously hoped I was right. I’d had a sneaking suspicion that the man from Iran was the man hosting the party tonight, but I hadn’t known it until I’d broken down the doors to his office and seen his mask less face.
I dragged a hand over my face. Emma had called him by his name. She’d recognized him… she never should have been there. I’d let the love bubble I’d been in for the last few weeks cloud my judgment. She wasn’t built for this, trained for this. She had already been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders after Iran, and now this. She was so strong, but I was so worried about her. How would she ever bounce back after this?
I began clicking through the hard drive, searching, looking for the answers to everything, hoping it’d be here. Shah’s final begging words played in my head, that he wasn’t The Viper, that it was someone internally. A mole. A piece of information in exchange for his life. But I took his life, anyway.
I hoped he was lying. I hoped it was a final effort to protect himself, because if it was true, Emma had been right the entire time, and I hadn’t listened.
I felt the pit in my stomach grow, knowing that if we did have an internal mole, that Emma was in more danger than ever. Her and that suspiciously talented little brain of hers, just working away, solving one question after another, until she was too close to a truth she wasn’t equipped to handle. Or at least that’s what I tried to tell myself. The alternative being that on her way to unravel this issue; I was worried she’d get to the bottom of who’d attacked her in the house. If she was smart enough to dig through classified documents, and I didn’t doubt that she could, then it’d be a glowing nose in a snowy storm. Obvious and right there.
I grabbed a cold beer out of the fridge and sat staring at the computer, scrolling through documents while I drank it. I sat there calmly while the rage rolled through me like a thunderstorm waiting to strike.
My head snapped up when I heard the bathroom flush upstairs and I checked the time and realized it was early in the morning already. I rubbed my eyes and promptly pushed myself up and quickly made my way upstairs to check on Emma.
I pushed the bedroom door open and found Emma pulling one of my shirts on, her red dress in a pile on the floor at her feet.
“How are you doing?” I said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.
She sighed heavily and then sat down next to me, but she didn’t say anything. I would never tell her this, but she looked like shit, dark bags under her eyes, her face was pale, the life in her eyes snuffed out. It broke my heart to see her like this, this worn down, this affected. I leaned forward and scooped her up, my own eyes suddenly feeling heavy, and I crawled into the bed with her. She snuggled against me silently, all of her limbs tucked into herself, protecting herself as I wrapped my arms around her, protecting her too.
“I thought –” She pulled back to look at me, “I didn’t think you were coming.”
I brought her face to mine and gave her a soft kiss. “I should have checked on you sooner. I’m sorry that happened. About what almost happened.”
She didn’t cry, she just numbly slumped against me.
