by Lisa Eugene
Brad shook his head, trying to assimilate the information. “But, I ran into Phillips at Silo. He said he wanted to talk to me. He seemed glad that Gordon is dead.”
“He is glad. Gordon was a thorn in his side, but he didn’t kill him. He was probably trying to get you to invest. That’s all. He’s been asking around for support since Fusso dropped out.”
“Shit!” Brad frowned sternly. “It was Fusso who framed Chloe?”
“It was Fusso.” Nigel nodded. “We didn’t think anyone would die. I swear. Now he’s just trying to clean up this mess. Go! Now! He’ll kill you like he did Gordon.”
“Wait!”
“Tell Chloe I’m sorry.”
Nigel rushed out the words then disappeared through the door. Brad looked down at the flash drive in his palm, then squeezed it tight, his gaze scanning the lot. He kept his head down and ran back to his car, his breaths coming quick, and his heart bursting with morbid emotion. A second later, he was careening out of the lot, his cell phone in his hand. Brad bit hard on his lip and prayed, afraid to confront the dread stacking like heavy cement blocks and weighing down his limbs. No way would Chloe go to her mother’s! She had promised him! She’d looked him in the eyes after they’d made love and fucking promised him! But as the phone rang and rang in his apartment, he got his answer.
“Fuuuuuuck!” he bellowed with rage, beating his hand against the steering wheel. He hit it hard and kept hitting until his flesh hurt.
How could she fucking do this? How could she do this to me? To us? The betrayal he felt was wretchedly enlightening. She would never let him in. She was too independent, too used to being on her own. She’d never trust him to take care of her, never surrender her heart again. The pain from her broken engagement had crushed her willingness to love or let anyone get close. She’d grown a tough shell from her life’s battles that he could never penetrate.
A sexual relationship seemed all she was willing to offer. He should be happy. He’d been sworn to the bachelor life and maybe that’s where he belonged. He could focus on his career and not have to deal with these wretched emotions that tied him in knots! This woman defied him at every turn and showed how little she cared! He’d had enough! He was done!
Brad looked towards the glove compartment where he’d stored the flash drive. He had the information now that they needed to get the charges dropped and he had to get to Chloe before any harm could come to her. A romantic relationship may not be in their future, but he still needed to make sure she was safe. Pain staked through his heart and he tried not to think about the future, because deep down he knew he would never stop loving her.
His gaze darted back to the glove compartment. He needed help. He fished his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out the card Detective Sullivan had given him and dialed the number.
The detective answered on the first ring.
“I know where Chloe Bennett is,” he said immediately.
“Is that so?”
Brad frowned. Detective Sullivan did not seem surprised to hear from him.
“I need you to get to her mother’s apartment right away. She’s there.”
“I can’t do that right now.”
He almost bit through his lip and somehow relished the pain. “Did you not hear what I just said? She’s at her mother’s!”
“I can’t do that because I’m in the car right behind you.”
“What!” Brad’s gaze flew to the rear view mirror and he spotted the car. A black Grand Marquis not far behind him. He couldn’t believe the police had been tailing him. How long? Since the visit to his office? It didn’t matter now.
“Just fucking get someone there! She’s in danger,” he yelled into the phone, his gaze bouncing to the mirror.
“Pull over. You’re gonna fucking kill someone with how fast you’re going.”
Brad slammed on the brakes and skidded onto the shoulder. He reached over and grabbed the flash drive, then jumped out of his car just as the black car pulled up beside his.
“Get in,” Detective Sullivan shouted through the rolled down window, and Brad slid into the passenger side of the car.
“So, it looks like you and the nurse are a lot closer than you claimed.”
“How long have you been tailing me?”
“Since you gave me that bullshit in your office. I figured you’d lead me right to her.”
Brad’s mind was racing, focused on a singular intent. He had to get to Chloe. His shoulders sagged with relief when the detective pushed a button and turned on the siren and flashers. Detective Sullivan floored the gas and they zoomed ahead as traffic made way.
“She didn’t do it,” he told the detective.
“I had my doubts. I could tell from questioning her she didn’t have it in her. But all the evidence pointed neatly to her…also something I didn’t like.”
Brad did a double take at the officer, staring at his harsh profile.
“It was Mr. Fusso.”
The detective frowned, now turning to look at him.
“The investor? I was wondering why you were at that building.”
“Yes.” Brad nodded firmly. “He got the drug that killed them from Omega.”
“You got proof?”
The detective was already reaching for his radio, speaking into it.
“Yes. It’s on this flash drive.” Brad heard him asking for backup to go to Epic Enterprises. “Nigel will tell you all you need to know.”
“Nigel really exists?”
Brad nodded. “He was the one drawing the patients’ blood. Fusso hired him. Fusso framed Chloe and now he’s trying to silence her.”
Brad braced himself in his seat, listening as the detective got his captain on the line. They were also sending officers to Rose’s apartment. As his pulse slowed a moderate degree, he prayed they’d get there in time. That they weren’t too late.
Chloe sat in Paul’s car, wringing her cold fingers. Her knuckles were white with tension. She needed to get to Brad. Had Phillips found him already? Was he hurt? Worse? Tension threatened to snap her spine. Brad was in trouble and it was all her fault! She should never have gone to his apartment and put him in such danger.
Her heart overflowed with her feelings for him, a soft warm euphoria edged with blinding panic. She was falling in love and she surrendered to the quintessential joy of it. She paused, her eyes flaring. Surrender. That’s what he’d asked her to do. She understood now and embraced the overwhelming emotions. She needed him desperately, needed his love and his unwavering strength. After everything he’d done for her, she knew she could trust him. She didn’t know what the future held, but his emotions were honest and pure and gave sustenance to her wretched soul.
Tears brimmed on her lids and her blurry gaze sidled to Paul. He hadn’t said much during the car ride, and she wondered if he was regretting his offer to drive her to Fusso’s. He’d seemed terrified as they’d pulled away from her mother’s apartment. She didn’t want him getting in trouble for helping her though. She’d have him drop her off and then send him on his way. The police could charge him for his part in this. Chloe knew the location of Epic Enterprises from the research she’d done online and they were headed north towards the highway, weaving in and out of traffic.
She saw Paul’s knuckles grip the wheel and he leaned forward, peering out the front window.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, following his gaze.
“There’s some traffic up ahead. I heard sirens.”
Chloe followed his gaze as the sirens grew louder. “That’s on the other side, going in the opposite direction,” she said as a black vehicle whisked by them on the other side of the highway divider, flashing lights and ringing loudly.
He visibly relaxed when they got off at the next exit. The area they drove through was mostly industrial with a few office buildings scattered along the streets. They turned a corner and Chloe could see a building that reminded her of a bank with tall columns and a stately façade. The sign procl
aiming it Epic Enterprises glittered in the late afternoon light, but what drew her attention was the commotion of police activity out front. There were police cars everywhere, and directly ahead of them was some sort of road block with yellow police tape and orange pylons. The sight of the cop cars beat dread in her bosom and her first thought was of Brad. Was he hurt? Did something happen? She wanted to jump out of the car to go find him in the melee.
“Oh my God! Something’s happened!” Her head twisted towards Paul as she unhooked her seatbelt. “Let me out! I have to find Brad!”
Paul stared directly ahead of him, his face sculpted in granite and his fingers clutching the wheel. Instead of slowing the car for the cones and yellow tape ahead, he accelerated. Chloe was thrown back against the seat, the jolt loosening the air from her lungs.
“What are you doing?” she yelled. “You have to stop the car!”
She was screaming the words, gasping for breath as they barreled through the road block and continued up the street. Shouts from the policemen behind them got carried away in the wind as the car sped farther away.
“Oh my God! What are you doing?” she yelled again, her body seizing with fear and disbelief. “Paul! Stop this car!”
But her friend kept going, hooking a sharp turn that had her tumbling over in the vehicle. Chloe’s heart thundered in her chest, her hands shaking so badly she couldn’t manage to fasten her seat belt.
Why was Paul doing this? Why was he not listening? Why was he running from the police? In one terrifying instant, she had a moment of omniscient clarity and she knew.
“You were helping them administer the Memoram, weren’t you?” she asked, her voice calmer than she felt. “You are always on the wards bringing up medication from the pharmacy. No one would question your presence.”
“Shut up!”
“Oh my God, Paul! It would be so easy for you. No one would know. How could you do such a thing?”
“No one was supposed to die! I know the drug worked! It was working at first. He promised me a portion of the profits. The plan sounded so simple.”
“Those poor patients! Gordon Shaw! Lots of people died, Paul!” she yelled, hysterical now.
“We didn’t mean for them to die.”
“So you blamed me? You put potassium in my locker?”
“That was Fusso’s idea. Nurse Wall planted it as a favor to me.”
Chloe frowned, not surprised that Nurse Wall would do such a thing. “Fusso is behind this?”
He didn’t answer, but Chloe knew she was right. All those police cars outside the building were there for a reason. Brad…, Is he okay?
“You should not have asked so many questions, Chloe! You should have left the charts alone! And Mr. Kaplan—”
“That was you! You ran from his room. You knocked me down!”
“You left us with no choice!”
Chloe shook from head to toe, adrenaline like jet fuel in her veins.
“Let me out of this car now!” she yelled, still not believing her friend was capable of this, of hurting her. “Why did you help me? Why did you take me to my mother’s apartment?”
He didn’t respond, and just by the look on his face, she knew the answer. “You knew those men were waiting there, didn’t you?” She took several deep breaths and surveyed the landscape. Trees and buildings were whipping by her. “Paul! Let me out! Just let me go!”
Just as the words flew from her lips, she heard sirens hollering behind them. She turned back and saw a line of police cars coming up fast.
“Stop this car!” she pleaded.
Paul glanced in his mirrors and floored the gas once more, his lips pressed into a taut line. The car jerked and revved, accelerating to a vibrating speed. Chloe screamed and pulled on his arm, trying to get him to slow down, but he shoved her roughly away.
She could hear the sirens behind as the police cars continued their chase, and fear wrapped tight around her as Paul pushed the car to break-neck speed down the road. They weaved and veered around cars that were trying to move out of their way.
“Please, Paul, let me out!”
She grabbed his elbow again, crying out when his fist landed a blow on her temple, the force sending her crashing into the passenger door. Chloe saw millions of flashing stars wink before her eyes as dizziness overwhelmed her. She fought to pull her lids up. She needed to keep fighting, and needed to get back to Brad to make sure he was okay. She choked down her nausea and pushed herself upright, her gaze shooting out the front window. A blood curdling scream flew up from her belly, loud and despairing, as the large telephone pole came crashing towards the car.
Detective Sullivan had to physically pull Brad off Richard’s battered body.
“Enough!”
“If anything happens to her, I’ll fucking kill you!” Brad hissed low, keeping his voice from carrying into the other room. Rose was in there with Maria, who’d come as soon as Brad phoned.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t just hear that,” the detective drawled. “We have to go. I just got a call.”
Brad’s neck snapped back, and he shrugged out of the detective’s tight hold. The other officers were scattered around the room, staring apathetically. They’d all stood back while he vented his tremendous anger. When he found out what Richard had done, he’d lost it. Her own fucking brother!
Detective Sullivan tugged him towards the door, explaining the phone call. The police in Chester County were involved in a high speed chase with someone who’d crashed through a barricade in front of Epic Enterprises. There were two suspects in the car, one vaguely matching Chloe Bennett’s description, but they couldn’t be sure.
Brad couldn’t keep his knee from bouncing restlessly as he settled again in the Grand Marquis. Detective Sullivan peeled out of his spot and veered back to the highway, headed north out of the city.
Brad swallowed the bile in his throat, feeling as if he was going to unload his stomach contents. He tried to make sense of the confusing data coming in. There must be some mistake. The two men who’d taken her from the apartment were now dead, shot by the undercover cops. Whose car was she in? Why would she have headed to Fusso’s office? Was she so desperate to avoid the police that she’d initiate a high speed chase? He didn’t know what to think. His nerves were still sizzling with boiling hot fear. Needles scratched beneath his skin. But when the radio squawked again, all he could do was drop his head into his trembling hands and utter a whispered plea as Detective Sullivan tossed him awkward looks of sympathy.
Detective Sullivan pulled up to the crash site. Police cars were parked haphazardly, half on and half off the road, while three officers stood in the middle of the street directing the creeping traffic and keeping horrified spectators at bay. Detective Sullivan had barely put the car in park before Brad opened the door and jumped out, his heart ramming his ribs hard, ready to smash them to bits. He ran to where several officers were gathered, ignoring the detective’s shout. He spotted the car first. It was only recognizable as such because the back tires were suspended in the air, still attached, but the entire front of the car had been demolished, pulverized to unrecognizable metal. Metal debris was scattered everywhere, haunting pieces of a giant steel puzzle.
His breath wheezed from his lungs as the officers parted and more carnage was revealed. A policeman was kneeling on the ground. He was zipping shut a black body bag. Brad was afraid to get closer, but could see the top of a curly head. His legs started to give out, his mind telling him there was no way Chloe could have been in that car. No one could have survived that crash. He felt as though he was trapped underwater, swaying sluggishly while observing a hazy, unreal vista.
The heavy throb of his heart was deafening, a constant roar in his ears. Another group of officers was standing near another body, this one in jeans, blood everywhere. The victim’s head was turned to the side and he couldn’t see the face, but from where he stood it looked like a young boy with short cropped hair.
“Were there others in the
car?” he questioned an officer, his heart banging now, a beast in his chest.
“No. Just the man and the woman.”
“Woman?” He quickly turned back to the victim on the ground and somehow, his brain recognized the shirt. His shirt. His Chloe. His love.
Oh God, no…
Chloe…
He sank to his knees.
Almost a week later, Brad was sitting in a chair, leaning over, his elbows braced on his thighs. He spent most of his time here at Chloe’s bedside. There were limited visiting hours in the Intensive Care Unit, but he didn’t give a shit. And they knew better than to ask him to leave.
Her private nurse had just left for her break, and before that, Bea had brought by some paperwork. He was finally alone with her. He straightened from the chair, rolled his shoulders, then walked to the bed and encased Chloe’s delicate hand in his.
She was still unconscious. She hadn’t opened her eyes since being thrown from the car in the accident almost a week ago. From all accounts, she was doing better. Her vital signs were stable, her lab work was good, and they’d even managed to wean her off the ventilator. Yesterday the critical care doctor had decided to take out her breathing tube.
Her lungs were now functioning fully on their own. The naso-gastric tube was feeding her, but he thought she still looked frail and worried she was losing too much weight. He’d have to speak to the nutritionist again. He knew he was driving the staff crazy, but again, he didn’t give a shit. He had to stay on top of her care.
His fingers sieved through her short hair, then he trailed the back of his knuckles over her cheek, peering down at her angelic face. He was still getting used to her short hair. It showcased her beautiful face, but also made her look incredibly young and fragile, especially with the delicate purple bruising under her eyes and at her jaw.