The villager explained anxiously, “They’re not from the county. These cops are the real deal–there was even a helicopter…. Just now in the village, Toby tried to say hi to Mr. Lewis, but Mr. Lewis pretended he didn’t even know him.”
Gregory’s face changed the moment he heard this. He glanced up at Jamison and Ivy, finally realizing he’d tangled with people far out of his league.
“Daisy, I… I never hurt you, I swear. That night, it was… Silly interrupted us, ruined my–no, not ruined, stopped me… Daisy, I’m a doctor. Your husband’s injured, isn’t he? Let them let me go, I’ll treat him for you.”
Gregory adapted quickly, his tone oily with desperation, the ultimate turncoat trying to save himself.
Jamison remained unmoved, but Ivy was worried about the wound on his back and the blood loss–she was clearly anxious he might be in serious danger. She
whispered urgently, “He’s right, you need to take care of your injury. You’re bleeding so much…”
Derek added quietly, “Mr. Ludwig, let me deal with this scum. Mrs. Ludwig is right. Please, sir, let the doctor patch you up.”
Jamison didn’t object. His voice was cold as steel. “Get this bastard out of here.”
He didn’t want that filth anywhere near Ivy, a constant reminder of the trauma.
“Yes, sir.”
A bodyguard grabbed Gregory’s dislocated arm, ignoring his howls and pleas as he dragged him outside, forcing him to kneel in the courtyard.
Derek immediately called for a doctor to examine Jamison’s injuries.
As the doctor approached, Jamison’s phone started ringing.
The doctor, scissors in hand, began cutting away Jamison’s shirt. The fabric clung to the blood on his back; just the slightest tug caused fresh blood to well up from the wound, the sight enough to turn anyone’s stomach.
Jamison couldn’t move easily, so he asked Ivy to get his phone from his pocket.
“It’s your brother,” Ivy said, glancing at the caller ID.
“Put him on,” Jamison replied.
Ivy answered and turned the speaker on.
1/3
15:00
Jamison, how’s everything going over there? When are you coming back?” Thad sounded casual, still unaware of the chaos on this end, only calling because their parents had pressured him to check in.
“We’re still handling things. It’ll probably take another couple of days.”
With how quickly things had escalated and how many people were now involved, Jamison knew even two days was a conservative estimate.
Thad’s concern grew, “You haven’t run into any trouble, right? I heard people over there can be pretty rough, even the police don’t want to go head to head. Be careful, okay?”
Ivy felt a pang of guilt.
Trouble was an understatement–someone had nearly been killed.
“No trouble. Don’t worry. I-”
Jamison was about to gloss over the reality so his family wouldn’t worry, but at that moment the doctor spoke to his assistant, “The wound’s deep. We’ll need to
clean and stitch it. Get the anesthetic.”
Hearing this, Ivy’s eyes darted to Jamison’s back.
His shirt was cut away, revealing a long, bloody gash snaking across his left shoulder blade–a wound so gruesome it made her heart race.
She couldn’t help blurting out, “You’re really hurt.”
With the call on speaker, Thad heard her loud and clear. His tone sharpened at once. “Who’s hurt? What happened over there?”
Jamison clenched his jaw, eyes shut tight against the sting as the doctor cleaned his wound. He couldn’t speak for a moment.
Ivy’s eyes filled with tears–there was no hiding it now. She confessed, “Jamison’s
hurt…”
“How did it happen? Where is he injured? Is it serious?” Thad, all the way in Neo Haven, shot to his feet in panic, his wife Davina and their youngest son startled by
his sudden alarm.
Ivy stared at Jamison’s blood–soaked back, barely able to breathe, let alone answer. Jamison forced himself to respond, voice rough but steady. “It’s nothing. Just a surface wound on my back. I’ll need a few stitches, that’s all.”
312
15:00
“A few stitches and you call that nothing? Where are you? I’m going to try to get someone over there to check on you!”