Chapter 118 #36: I Will Sue You For This
Elaine Reid is standing at the end of the hallway like she owns it with her coat flapping open, and face flushed red.
"Nora Ellis, what the hell did you do to my son?"
The words bounce off the linoleum and draw every head in the corridor. Nurses pause mid-step. A janitor stops pushing his cart. Even the security guard near the elevators turns to watch.
I turn slowly, letting her see every inch of the blood still drying on my hands, my arms, and the front of my dress. I don't bother wiping it off. Let her look. Let her see what her precious boy walked into tonight.
She marches forward, her heels striking the floor like accusations. "Answer me! I get a call from the hospital saying David is in surgery for a gunshot wound, and the first person I see when I arrive is you, covered in his blood. What did you do to my baby?"
I don't answer. I walk past her instead and head straight toward the row of plastic chairs bolted to the wall. My legs feel heavy, like I'm moving through water, but I keep going because if I stop I'll collapse right here in front of her.
She follows, of course. She's never been quite good at reading the room.
"Nora, don't you dare walk away from me. I asked you a question."
I reach the chairs and start to lower myself onto one. Before my thighs touch the seat, her fingers clamp around my upper arm and yank me viciously back around.
The grip is surprisingly strong for a woman who spends most of her days lunching and complaining about service staff. Her nails dig through the thin fabric of my sleeve and that is my very last straw.
I turn fast, my free hand comes up in a clean arc and lands right on her face.
The slap connects with the side of her face so hard the sound echoes down the hallway like a gunshot. Her head snaps sideways. She stumbles, loses her balance, and lands on the floor on her butt.
The hallway goes dead silent.
I lean down until my face is inches from hers. My voice comes out low, trembling with the kind of fury that has been building since the day she first looked at me like I was dirt on her son's shoes.
"I have been hunted and shot at by goons and thugs for something I had no idea about,” I whisper lethally. “I just found out my husband is not only a mafia don, but that he kidnapped my daughter. The man I love is lying in the operating room fighting for his life because he tried to go and save her. The daughter in question is scheduled for surgery next week but is still nowhere to be found.”
I pause long enough to let her absorb my words.
“So if you think, Elaine,” I continue, “that your nonsensical drama is something I can fit into my life right now, you have another thing coming."
Her eyes are wide with shock as she stares at me. A red handprint blooms across her cheek. For once in her life she has nothing to say.
I straighten up.
"I will sue you for this," she finally manages, her voice shaking.
I let out a bitter laugh.
"Go on... try it. I dare you. Send a lawyer to my house and I promise the last thing people will see of you is your body washed up along the Hudson River.” I straighten, then step over her like she’s a puddle on the sidewalk. “Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go find my daughter. Your grandchild."
As I walk away from her and toward the exit doors, every eye in the hallway follows me. I don't care. Let them stare. Let them whisper. I've spent years caring what people like Elaine Reid think of me. That time is over.
The automatic doors slide open and cold night air hits my face. I keep walking.
Sel catches up to me in the parking lot. "Jesus, Nora. You just slapped David's mother in front of half the hospital."
"She deserved worse." I say without slowing down.
Marcus is already at the car, holding the back door open. "We need to move. If Elaine starts making calls, this place will be crawling with reporters in twenty minutes."
I slide into the backseat. Sel climbs in beside me and Marcus takes the wheel.
"Where to?" he asks.
"Home first," I say. "I need to change, get my laptop, and call Maya. She's the only one who might be able to crack that ledger fast enough to tell us what Vincent's next move is."
Sel reaches over and squeezes my hand. "We're going to get her back, you know."
"I know." My voice sounds flat even to me. “The issue is when. Four days isn't a lot of time."
The drive back to the apartment is quiet except for the low hum of the engine and the occasional crackle of Marcus's phone as he texts his contacts. I stare out the window at the city lights blurring past. Every red light feels like an insult. Every minute that passes is another minute Lucy is somewhere without me.
When we reach the building, Marcus parks in the underground garage. We take the service elevator up to avoid the lobby cameras. The hallway outside our door is empty.
Inside, the apartment still smells faintly of the cleaning service from the break-in weeks ago. Lucy's toys are scattered across the living room floor exactly where she left them. Her dragon colouring book still lies open on the coffee table, the purple crayon still clutched in the grip of a plastic dinosaur.
I stop in the doorway of her bedroom. The bed is unmade. Her stuffed bear sits on the pillow, waiting for it's owner.
I turn away before the ache in my chest can swallow me whole.
"Five minutes," I tell them. "I need to shower and change."
The hot water stings where David's blood has dried on my skin. I scrub hard, watching red-brown water swirl down the drain until it runs clear. I dress in black jeans, black boots, and a fitted black sweater. Practical. I tuck Vincent's gun into the waistband at the small of my back and pull on a leather jacket to cover it.