Devil's Pact

by Brook Wilder

  “Look, they’ll be expecting you to show up there. If not you, then someone else close to you. Either way, Capone will have men watching the hospital. You can’t go there, Olivia. You’ll put both of us at risk.”

  “But what about the risk that Jonathan took! He was the one who brought on your case in the first place. He was the one who was willing to fight for you when no one else would.”

  “You did.”

  “Well, I’m an idiot. Remember?” Olivia snorted.

  She was hurt and afraid for Jon and angry, but she also knew that Preston was right. And that just made her even more pissed off.

  “Fine, but I’m calling him,” she said, throwing her hands up.

  Frustration still filled her, fueled by the scary, shaking feeling that had latched onto her middle when she’d caught sight of the empty burned husk of the law firm on the television screen. When she’d seen Jon’s prone body. When she’d seen the bloodstains on the sidewalk.

  Preston didn’t try and dissuade her this time. He must finally have picked up on the razor edge she was walking along, because he wisely didn’t say another word as she fumbled her cell phone from her pocket and quickly looked up the number for the hospital. With trembling fingers, Olivia dialed them in and hit the call button.

  It rang a few times before a harried-sounding nurse named Lucy answered the phone.

  “Hi, I’m calling about a patient that was admitted? Jonathan Fulbright?” Olivia asked weakly and was surprised at the nursed curt answer.

  “Listen, we’ve already given a statement to the news. You journalists are terrible, you know that? We’re busy here, trying to save lives. Now, you’re the third one to call this morning! Do me a favor. Stop wasting our time!”

  “Wait! Wait! Please don’t hang up.” Olivia said hastily, “I’m not a journalist. I’m Jon’s… I work with Jon. I’ve been… away and just saw the news. I just need… I’m sorry, I need to know how he is.”

  “Oh, well then. Sorry about that. Can’t stand those tabloid writers just looking to exploit someone else’s pain,” Lucy went on in a much friendlier voice. “Are you a family member or relation by any chance? Does he have any other family nearby?”

  “No. No, I’m not. He’s not married. And all of his family is on the East Coast.”

  “Sad.” tsked Lucy the nurse, and Olivia was sure she hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

  “Sad? Why is that sad?” Olivia demanded, panic surging inside her at the nurse’s comment. “Please. I am… I’m all he has.”

  “Look, I can tell you what we said in the official statement. He was brought in with severe wounds and in a critical condition. He went into surgery immediately.”

  “Wait, he went into surgery. You mean he’s out? He’s awake?”

  There was a long silence from the other end of the phone. Too long. And far too silent.

  “Listen, I really shouldn’t say anything else, but… if Mr. Fulbright does have any family close by, I would urge them to visit him as soon as possible. He’s stable for the moment but… I’m sorry. I really can’t release any more information about a patient.”

  Olivia opened her mouth to ask her what she meant by that, but all that greeted her from the other end of the phone call was a dial tone. The nurse had already hung up. Olivia let the phone drop slowly into her lap. She stared at it, but didn’t really see it as she spoke.

  “I don’t think… The nurse said… I don’t think he has very long, Preston.”

  The words hurt coming out of her mouth. They hurt to say out loud, as if that alone made them real and all the more possible.

  She didn’t know how long she sat there like that, her thoughts a blank. It was too painful to focus on any one thing because everything led back to the man lying in the hospital, dying because of her.

  “This is all my fault,” Olivia whispered tearfully. “He was hurt because of me. That’s why the gang attacked him. I know it was. He’s dying because of me. Because I got involved.”

  “No, Olivia!” Preston said, with so much force in his voice that it made her jump.

  She turned to him with a wide-eyed look of surprise. “This is Capone’s fault. And Knox’s a little bit, but mostly Capone’s. You didn’t do this. You didn’t attack him. Capone did. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

  “Oh yeah? It’s not that easy, Preston!” Olivia said as she jumped to her feet.

  All the frustration and anger that was churning inside her finally bubbled over and she couldn’t contain it anymore. It was all too much for her. It overwhelmed her.

  “I know damned well that I’m to blame for this! You can say whatever you want, but it’s not going to change the way I feel. I can’t just shut off my emotions. I don’t work like that! And if you expect me to… well, then you’re not the man I thought you were.”

  She stalked away, too angry and hurt to even put it into words.

  Preston stood in shocked silence behind her and a part of her felt guilty. She knew he wasn’t really the person that she was angry at. No. That was all directed inward, at herself. Because whatever Preston might say, she knew the truth. It really was her fault. She really was to blame. And the weight of that nearly sent her to her knees.

  But Olivia wouldn’t let it stop her. Instead, she tilted up her chin and threw back her shoulders, readying herself for the battle that she knew what about to come when she turned around and opened her mouth again.

  “I’m going to the hospital.”

  “You can’t, Olivia. We already talked about it.”

  “No, you already talked about it. But, I have to, Preston.” She made her voice firm, even though her whole body was shaking. “I am going. With or without you.”

  “You know why you can’t.”

  “I know your reason,” she said, shaking her head. “And it’s not good enough. I can’t leave him like that, Preston. I know what it’s like. To know that you’re going to die and have the last thing you heard the laughter of the men who are going kill you. Their faces are the last thing he’s going to see.”

  Olivia had to stop and drew in a gasping breath. She couldn’t see Preston anymore. He was just a watery blur through her tears. But she forced her spine to stay strong as she faced him down.

  “I can fix that, at least. I can’t… I can’t go back and change things, but I can do this at least. I can make this right. I have to do this.”

  Preston let out a long, slow sigh like a giant balloon being deflated, and when he spoke there was resignation in his tone.

  “Fine, we can go. But I’m going with you,” he said, adding sharply, “And we’ll take your car. Motorcycle will leave us too vulnerable. You can wear a hat or something. They’ll spot your red hair from a mile away like a fucking walking beacon.”

  “And what about you?”

  “I’m good at disappearing when I need to. Don’t worry about me. Let’s just worry about getting in and out without being seen.”

  Olivia nodded and didn’t say another word as she walked towards her bedroom. She made it to the room before breaking down and she leaned against the door for a moment, sobbing silently as her emotions whirled tumultuously inside her.

  She gave herself thirty seconds. Thirty seconds to grieve for herself. But then she forced herself to pull it back together. For Jonathan. She had to do this. For him. And, she could admit silently, for herself.

  Olivia grabbed an old baseball cap from her closet and the sunglasses she kept in the nightstand beside her bed, before snagging the keys to her car and rejoining a very serious-looking Preston in the living room.

  “I’m ready.”

  Preston just sighed again as they walked towards the car that was parked in the garage. She knew he wasn’t happy with this plan of hers. She also knew that she didn’t care one whit about that.

  She got into the car along with Preston and they drove towards the hospital in silence.

  Chapter 13

  It was a forty-minute drive to the hosp
ital, but Olivia didn’t see any of it. The whole thing was one big blur. Her only thought was for Jon. She didn’t have the capacity to focus on anything else, especially nothing as unimportant as the landscape that passed by them as they drove.

  The morning sun was starting to rise higher and higher in the sky, tinting everything a cheery golden yellow that seemed to mock the black oil-slick of Olivia’s tangled emotions. Everything inside her was tense and in turmoil, and she didn’t know what the hell to do about it. She didn’t think there was anything that she could do.

  Finally, the hospital rose out of a hill in the landscape like a hard concrete slab that was much more aligned with her own state. They drove up a winding road that doubled back on itself as it wove around precisely placed rocks. But Preston didn’t stop as they neared the front entrance. He didn’t stop until he’d driven back around towards the emergency entrance that was normally reserved for ambulances.

  Olivia could see the wisdom of the move, but most of her was just impatient to get out of the car and up to see Jon. There was a panic that had begun inside her and she couldn’t help but count the minutes past, the seconds, wondering if each one would be Jon’s last. Or the next one. Or the next one.

  It was a mad game she played with herself as Preston finally parked haphazardly and they both got out. It was surprisingly easy to sneak through the ER entrance. They both just kept their gazes locked straight ahead and walked as if they were exactly where they belonged. No one gave them a second glance as they made it through the soundlessly sliding glass doors and into the hospital.

  Olivia followed Preston up the stairs after he told her the elevators were too risky. She gritted her teeth, keeping her comments to herself. But still, inside her head, she counted all the extra seconds it cost them to take the stairs instead of the elevators up to the fourth floor.

  The doors opened onto a service hallway and they made it out onto the floor. Olivia was stopped once more, delayed as Preston held her back.

  “Just let me make sure no one is there first,” he whispered.

  He was gone before she could let him have the angry retort that was burning inside her. With every passing moment, she was getting more frustrated with his high handedness and his attitude that she couldn’t look out for herself.

  He re-appeared a few seconds later.

  “The coast is clear. We can go.”

  “Thank you so much for your permission, Preston. Or should I salute you like one of Capone’s little sycophants? That what he does, isn’t it? He orders his soldiers around and expects to be obeyed without question. Is that what you want?”

  Olivia bit her tongue as the last word left her lips, but it was too late. She’d already snapped at him and guilt immediately ate at her, only adding to her already mounting frustration.

  “I’m sorry, Preston, I… I didn’t mean it.” She gulped in a breath, on the edge of losing her composure all over again. “I know it’s not your fault. None of this is your fault. I just… I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Preston said after a moment, with far more understanding than she deserved at the moment. “I know this must be…”

  “Awful.”

  Olivia finished his sentence with a weak, wry little smile and he swept her up in a comforting half hug before letting her go again. She wished he hadn’t.

  “Come on. Let’s go find him.”

  Olivia nodded and they walked forward together. Honestly, she had her doubts that any of the members of the Devil’s Martyrs would be staked-out at the hospital waiting for them. They all thought they were both dead, after all.

  That, at least, gave her some measure of comfort as they made their way down the brightly lit hallway to the nurse’s station.

  “Hello, I’m looking for Jonathan Fulbright’s room?” Olivia asked softly.

  One of the nurses turned to her with a kind, but sorrowful look.

  “Are you related or family?”

  “I’m…” She paused, remembering what the other nurse had said over the phone, and didn’t feel a moment of guilt about the lie. “I’m his daughter.”

  “Oh. He just came out of surgery. He might not be awake yet, but he’s in room four seventy-two, just down the hall there.”

  The nurse pointed them to a room just down the hallway and Olivia followed the direction on leaden feet. She had been so anxious to get there, so impatient with the time it had taken. But, now that she was there, she wished she was anywhere else. Anywhere else in the world.

  But Olivia forced herself to keep moving, counting down the numbers embossed on the black placards next to each door, until she found four seventy-two.

  “You go in,” Preston said softly. “I’m going to wait out here.”

  And keep an eye out for any of the gang members.

  But he left the rest of his statement unspoken. Olivia nodded anyways.

  Olivia walked inside and gasped when she saw Jon lying in the hospital bed. He was nearly as white as the sheet that was covering him. He looked pale and lifeless, not at all like the vibrant, boisterous man she knew him to be.

  She stopped beside the bed rail. His eyes were closed and the monitor’s soft beeps were the only sound that filled the room as she leaned forward and took one of his hands in hers. It was so cold. That’s all she could think as she furiously blinked back tears. He was as cold as ice.

  “I’m so sorry, Jon,” Olivia whispered.

  She wasn’t sure if he could hear her or not and it didn’t matter. She still needed to say the words out loud.

  “I’m so, so sorry. This is all my fault.”

  Jon’s eyes cracked open just enough for his gaze to meet hers.

  “What the hell are you talking about, Liv? You didn’t do this to me. I know who did this.”

  His voice was so weak it was barely there at all, but Olivia couldn’t stop the smile from breaking across her face as bright as the morning sun shining outside the window.

  “Nothing. It’s nothing,” she said, her voice still tearful, and she quickly swiped her eyes too for good measure. “Hey, I saw you on the news. You’re famous now. You always wanted to be famous, right?”

  Jon let out a wheezing laugh, but he winced in pain and she immediately regretted making the joke. Olivia reached out a soothing hand.

  “Just relax, okay? You don’t have to talk or… or anything.”

  “It was the Devil’s Martyrs,” Jonathan whispered, his voice like a rasp as he forced the words out.

  She could see what each one cost him.

  “Please, Jon, hush…”

  “It was Capone and three of his guys. They jumped me at the office and…”

  Jonathan’s words were cut off abruptly as he was wracked with a fit of agonizing coughs. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth and he wiped it away with a grimace of distaste, with the look of a man who knows that his body was betraying him in the worst sort of way.

  “Please, just rest. Don’t say anything. I know it was them. And I swear, I’m going to make them pay. I promise you that.”

  “I’m so glad that I got to meet you, Olivia Prescott,” Jonathan whispered hoarsely. “You’re going to make one hell of a lawyer one day.”

  Olivia grinned through her tears, but it was a smile full of sorrow.

  “Of course, I am. How could I not be after you’ve finish teaching me everything that you know. It will take at least a few more years, so you’ll have to stick around for that. Besides, you still owe me that referral.”

  “Liv, the doctors said that I probably won’t…”

  “You hush, Jonathan. Just… don’t talk, okay? Just rest. Just rest,” she said, cutting him off.

  She couldn’t let him say it out loud. She couldn’t let him make it real.

  But he wouldn’t listen to her. Instead, he leaned forward and grabbed her wrist in a surprisingly strong grip.

  “Olivia, you have to be careful. That gang is after Osbourne. They burned down his house. The office. You have to be ca
reful.”

  “I will. I swear.”

  “Be careful. And take care of yourself, okay?”

  Olivia wiped away a rogue tear. That sounded far too much like a goodbye to her. But it seemed important to him so she nodded and answered.

  “I will, Jon. I promise, I will.”

  “Promise me something else, Liv…”

  But she didn’t get to hear the rest of his request. He started coughing again, and the blood was back, a bright vibrant crimson against his pale skin. It was the only vivid thing in the entire room.