Chapter 63 HOME...NOW!
Outside the hospital, the night breathed cold and sharp, with the wind roaring violently.
Two nurses were dragged violently into the darkness, their white shoes scraping against the concrete floor, muffled gasps swallowed by the alley’s shadows and handkerchief placed on their mouths. Their ID cards clattered to the ground before disappearing beneath black boots.
Minutes later, two figures emerged, although wearing the nurse uniforms.
They moved fast, controlled, their heads lowered as they approached the hospital entrance. Their steps were steady, practiced, nothing sloppy. No panic. No hesitation.
“Where have you been?” a female nurse barked the moment they stepped inside.
“Hurry. Emergency ward.” One of the men nodded and moved immediately, but not before subtly signaling the other with two fingers. The signal was brief and precise.
They split.
“Hey, Wackin,” another nurse called out, waving lazily.
The man lifted his hand in response. His mask hid most of his face, but not his eyes. They were dark, cold and shallow.
At the counter, he stopped. “The file report and ward number,” he said flatly.
The nurse behind the desk looked up.
“Which one?”
He paused, just a second too long and the nurse eyes narrowed in suspicion.
His fingers twitched. He retraced the instructions in his head, his jaw tightening underneath the mask.
“Emily and Jolie,” he said. “The two women rushed in after the car accident.” The nurse reached for the telephone...then stopped.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I need last names before I can grant access.”Her fingers pulled back.
The man’s fist clenched.
He turned abruptly and walked away. The nurse watched him go, unease crawling up her spine. Something about him felt off, too stiff, too cold. But exhaustion won. She shook it off and returned to her screen.
Another nurse collided with him down the hallway. “
Why? What do you need?” she asked and he followed her.
“The two women from the accident,” he said carefully. “I heard they killed someone? Jolie and… E—”
The nurse’s eyes widened. “Oh! You mean Jolie Jones and Emily Russell.” She paused, studying him.
“They didn’t kill anyone,” she added quietly. “Someone tried to murder them. Their brakes were cut and truck slammed into them.”
She shivered.
“Such beautiful girls… now lying there half-dead.”
The man’s brow arched downwards.
“Attempted murder?” he asked. “How?”
She shook her head. “It’s everywhere. You didn’t hear?”
She pushed her trolley forward. “I have to go.”
Then she stopped abruptly.
“Oh-wait!” she called, turning back. “Doctor Ethan asked me to give you this.”
She thrust a folder into his hands.
He froze.
“For what?” he asked.
Her brows knitted. “Weren’t you at the meeting yesterday?”
He could feel her suspicion sharpening.
“I was… off, just sleeping then” he muttered. Her face softened. “Oh.”
“The meeting was about transferring Jolie and Emily to a more secure VIP ward.”
He nodded quickly. “Thank you.”
He walked away immediately, but a female doctor rounded the corner.
He flattened himself against the wall, his breath shallow. She passed without noticing and he walked off.
At the counter again.
“What now?” the nurse snapped. Her shift was almost over.
“Jolie Jones. Emily Russell,” he said, placing the folder down. “Urgent ward change.”
She scanned it. “Ward 19. VIP East.”
She announced it into the intercom. “Nurse escort incoming.” He bowed slightly and walked off.
The elevator doors slid shut behind him. His partner stepped in beside him.
“Done?” the man asked quietly.
A nod.
The doors opened. They moved fast, walked and the ward door was unlocked.
Inside, Jolie and Emily lay unconscious, tubes threaded through their bodies, ventilators breathing for them, IV lines feeding fluids, heart monitors pulsing rhythmically. Machines beeped softly, keeping them alive.
But their souls looked like it was hanging in a thread.
Yet the life support worked efficiently.
They disconnected the tubes and switched their bodies with mannequins.
The real girls were loaded onto a stretcher and wheeled out the back exit.
The van doors slammed shut......The engine roared and left.
Then—
“Hey!”
Doctor Ethan stepped into the hallway....
The both men froze.
“Shit,” one muttered.
AARON’S HOME
Erica’s eyes flew open.
Her chest rose sharply as she sucked in air, her fingers curling into the sheets. The ceiling above her swam into focus then she turned her head.
Aaron.
Her gaze sharpened instantly, as it hit her! “Where’s Kalton?” she demanded.
Aaron sighed. “That’s your first question?” he asked, at hing a brow in disbelief. Even a thank you didn't escape her lips: he just fvcking saved her!
“I need to know if I finished him,” she snapped..
A slow smirk curved to his lips. “He wasn’t there when I arrived. But he lost a lot of blood.”
Her lips parted. “Did you follow him?”
Aaron laughed, rubbing his forehead, and the door burst open.
“ERICA!”
Tee rushed in and hugged her tightly. Erica winced. “Let go—!”
Tee stumbled back. “Sorry! I forgot you were hurt.”
She grabbed Erica’s hands. “Did you stab him?”
She turned to Aaron. “Isn’t your brother supposed to be like: deathless?”
Aaron’s smile darkened. “Not for long.” He cursed under his breath, and walked out.
His thoughts drifted back to where he found Erica...
Kalton had run. He watched him leave, and sighted as his eyes stared down at Erica with excitement, it made Aaron blood boil.
“Location?” Aaron demanded.
“Your father’s men took him,” Diego replied and Aaron's paused.....but then his phone rang.
He stared down for a while, and picked up the call.
His father’s voice cut through cold and sharp.
“Come home. Now.”