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Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

Jack

T he hospital put the girls in the same room, despite typically insisting on separate ones. Greg gave them one glare, and they immediately changed their minds. I’ve never been so happy to have him by my side.

No one fucks with his orders.

Surprisingly, neither of them suffered from more than mild frostbite. The nurses commented on how lucky they were since they were running in the snow barefoot, but all I can feel is relief.

Dolly has broken ribs, and their bodies are black and blue from the beatings they each received. Bee’s ribs are severely bruised due to Gareth whaling on her body while they fought in the snow, and I have never wished for necromancy to be real more than now.

I want to bring him back to life so I can kill him over and over again. My anger is being barely held in check as I watch the girls sleep. I’m charged with waking them up regularly, since they also both have concussions, and apparently, Bee will have a few bald patches on her scalp to deal with.

The list of injuries goes on, but I’m just glad they’re alive.

“They’re okay,” Greg reminds me, sitting heavily next to me.

“I don’t think they’re what I would call okay,” I mutter. “The special attention to mild frostbite wasn’t very pleasant to watch.”

There were tears as the hospital staff reheated their bodies. The process was painful as the pins and needles hit, and now they’re exhausted, but they’ll be keeping their extremities at least.

“Do you have any news on things?” I ask, sighing. “I’m not ignorant of the loose ends left.”

“I know you’re not,” he mutters. “Here’s what I’ve been fielding today. Arina is in jail, and will be facing charges of colluding with her father and Gareth to forcibly steal Bee’s inheritance. It’ll be a quiet court case, and then she’ll be buried under so much legal rhetoric, she’ll never see the light of day again.”

“That’s very dark of you, I like it,” I say with a grin. “I don’t even think it’s too harsh, either.”

“I don’t either. I hope she gets fucked up in prison. I may even have a hand in making it happen. One of the reasons Dahlia’s ribs are so bad is because of the way Arina was pulling on her legs, to try to pull her back through the window,” Greg growls.

“I watched it happen, and decided to throw everything I could get on her. I also interrogated Ivan as well.”

“Oh? I didn’t hear if he had anything to do with Dolly’s disappearance,” I say quietly. The door is closed, and everyone here is banned from speaking about clients or us.

“I spoke to his father, and he was very disappointed to hear that Ivan has been such a jerk to Dahlia,” Greg explains. “He gave me full support in scaring the shit out of his son. Turns out, Ivan is simply jealous and intimidated by Dahlia’s gifts, which we knew, but he let things go too far. He kept egging Arina on, not realizing she wasn’t bluffing. He didn’t know Arina was working with her father until the recital. At that point, he tried to get Dahlia not to follow Arina, but it was too late.”

“Dolly wanted to find Bee,” I grunt. “I’d have done the same thing. What about the money the Boxley’s are missing?”

“I blamed it on Adamson and Gareth,” Greg says with a shrug. “I explained they’d been working together, and that Gareth was a known child rapist. The Boxley’s are writing it all off as a very costly learning experience, since two of their family members were involved.”

“Fuck, what a mess,” I say. “Is your work done with the Boxleys’?”

“Yeah, it’s all buttoned up, and I disappeared as if I never existed. It’ll never blow back on myself or my family,” he says.

“The Ghost lives on,” I tease him, bumping his shoulder. “I need to talk about what the girls want to do about their identities. Bee can take over her inheritance now without repercussions, which will help her pay for graduate school next year. I said I’d pay for it, but?—”

“They’re very independent,” Greg grunts. “Fuck, watching Dahlia wiggle out of that high window gave me indigestion. You have your hands full with those two. Oh, dark web had a contract out for Bee, but I canceled it due to inability to pay. Gareth was getting desperate for that money, but it’s what we needed to draw him out.”

Blowing out a breath, I rub my forehead. “At what cost?” I ask. “I’m emotionally wrecked after tonight. Too many things could have gone wrong, and this snowstorm is out of fucking control.”

Midnight came and went hours ago, and I’m just glad for a new year, new day. I need the opportunity to do better. The sun is high in the sky, which means Greg has been working for hours, while the girls have been sleeping and healing.

“We need an overhaul of our teams,” I tell Greg, rolling my neck to look at him. I’m so damn tired. I’m about to sneak into bed with Bee, because she doesn’t have broken bones in case I jostle her accidentally.

“We interrogate everyone as if they’re new hires. We check for bad debts, family illnesses, finances, fucking everything. Thomas was one of our most trusted people, Greg.”

“He was, and I’ve never been more blindsided than I was last night,” he sighs. “I’ve gotten started on it, and I told Sullivan he should close the school for two weeks, while I pull his people to run a deep dive on their lives. Nothing is going to be left unturned.”

“And Ciara?” I ask. I almost don’t want to think about her, but she won’t be allowed back on duty until she’s completely healed and attends therapy for any PTSD. It’s going to take some time.

Otherwise, she’ll be a liability, which she doesn’t want either.

“She’s in another wing of the hospital,” Greg says. “Severely depressed, feels like a failure. Thomas came at her with the force of a steam engine. No one her size would have been able to stop him, not that she’s tiny in any way.”

Ciara probably has more muscle mass than I do, and it still didn’t help.

“Fuck, it’s a shame,” I sigh. “She thinks she got too close to Dolly.”

“I mean, maybe? But she also didn’t stop screaming and fighting while twisted up like a pretzel in the supply closet,” Greg says. “This is a gray area. Ciara is still a damn good guard, simply on hiatus for a bit. Now, what are your plans?”

“Me?” I ask surprised. “My life is in Detroit. Now that the situation with Gareth is over, I’ll start looking at a property to buy that’s more suitable for us. I only got the apartment for security purposes. Bee’s accepted into school here too, and I don’t see Dolly walking away from music school.”

“You’re still happy being the face of the company?” Greg asks. “The meetings, the responsibilities, the occasional travel? The media?”

“Are you saying my relationship is going to cause an issue?” I ask drolly. Greg and his two best friends are in a relationship with one woman, I highly doubt that’s where he’s going with this.

“I don’t give two shits, and we’re living in a very modern world,” Greg says. “I’d fucking go public with you if I could. It just feels hypocritical to ask you to.”

“I have to talk to Bee and Dolly, but now that Gareth is dead and the Boxleys’ are no longer an issue, I don’t see a problem with it,” I tell him. “I haven’t liked keeping things a secret. Neither of them are my dirty secret and never have been. I just didn’t want Gareth to come sniffing around.”

“Okay,” Greg grunts. “If things change, tell me. You’ve been doing this a long time.”

“I still love it,” I say honestly. “It’s flexible work, my team is great, and they give me their best every day. It makes it fun to come into work.”

“Good. Now get some sleep,” he says. “I think you’ll be here for a few more days.”

Nodding, I yawn, standing to walk over to Bee’s bed and climb into it. Greg stares at me for a beat before shaking his head.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t go to an empty apartment either if my entire world was in this room,” he mutters. “Can I go get your shit from your apartment?”

“You set up the passcodes,” I murmur sleepily. “That would be great, thanks.”

“Oh, one more thing,” Greg says. “I went to the mansion and destroyed every single file with Dahlia in his computer, phone, and back up hard drives in his safe. I also fired all of his staff, but the chef insisted that he needed to speak to Bronwyn and Dahlia.”

“If I forget this, you’re responsible for telling me again,” I mumble. “The shit with the chef, the drive erasure, I’ll remember.”

“Good night, old man,” Greg snorts, leaving me to sleep.

It's been a long two days.

Bronwyn

My body feels incredibly warm, which is a pleasant surprise. I’ve been so cold, the hospital staff had to work to get my temperature to a healthier one. I got a shower, help brushing my teeth, and now I feel a little more human. Keeping my body still, I bask in the feeling. If I move too much, my ribs will remind me of how badly they’re bruised.

I’ll need so much therapy after this, but I don’t know if patricide is covered by doctor-patient confidentiality.

“You’re thinking too hard, Bee,” Jack rumbles, his lips by my ear. “Tell me?”

“Therapy,” I mumble, yawning as I blink to clear the sleep from my eyes. It pulls at my ribs, a sharp pain that makes me bite back a whimper. Fuck, I’ll do anything to keep that from happening again.

Holy shit.

“I was thinking about how I need to change therapists, but I have no idea who I can talk about what happened to. Then, I started thinking about patricide and if that was covered by doctor-patient confidentiality. I concluded it probably doesn’t.”

“Definitely not, beautiful. I’ll get a few names of therapists that work with people who color outside of the lines of the law,” Jack says.

“That’s the sweetest way you’ve ever told me you’d take care of things,” I tell him, smirking.

“It’s what I do,” he says smugly. “Should I go wake up our girl?”

Turning my head slowly, I see her eyelashes are already fluttering.

“Dahlia,” I say softly, happy when I see her large caramel eyes. The gray contacts were taken out during triage, and I’m so glad. “Hey, pretty girl.”

“Hi,” she croaks out. “Can we go home now?”

A knock on the door makes us pay attention as a doctor eases inside. “Did I hear someone ask if they could go home?” he asks.

“I want my bed,” Dahlia says, pouting.

Chuckling, the doctor nods understandingly. “Tomorrow I think we’ll be able to release you,” he says. “The frostbite was mild, and it’ll heal on its own. Try to stay inside, or bundle up very well. It’s the concussions and bruised and broken ribs I’m concerned about. I want to keep you in observation for a bit, but now that you’re awake, I’d like to suggest that you eat.”

“Sleepy heads,” Jack teases, not bothering to sit up.

“Soon, you’ll be able to go home, though. I promise,” the doctor says, smiling as he checks in about other things before leaving.

“What have we missed, Jack?” Dahlia asks, her voice raspy and tired.

Being strangled will do that to a girl, and I feel the same way.

“Arina is going to prison for a long damn time, courtesy of Greg working the system,” Jack begins. He tells us everything that we’ve missed, including Ciara recovering in this hospital and Greg finding any videos of Dahlia in Gareth’s possession and destroying them.

“The bitch deserved it,” Dahlia mutters. I don’t feel bad for Arina either.

“God, I think I missed work today,” I groan.

“I’ll handle that,” Jack murmurs, brushing his lips along my temple. “Be right back.”

Jack stands, leaving the room to call my bosses, and I struggle not to sigh. I hate missing work, but it’s not like I’ll be able to help anyone today.

“Bee?” Dahlia says softly. Turning my head, I smile gently at her. She’s been through hell and back, but she still keeps kicking. “Do you wish we hadn’t? Killed Gareth, I mean?”

Shaking my head gently, I say, “No. That man terrorized and hurt you, and was going to force me to sign over an inheritance I kept ignoring so he wouldn’t be able to get it. I don’t have any regrets, Dahlia. Do you?”

“None,” she says vehemently, gasping in pain as she rubs her ribs carefully. Yeah, they’re going to be a bitch for a while. “I don’t have a single one. Does this make us bad people?”

“No. It makes us people that have been pushed too far for too long,” I mutter. “It may not have been in the heat of the moment, but Gareth had all the intent to kill us.”

“He doesn’t deserve a single second of your worries,” Jack says, stepping back inside. “Your boss said to take the next two weeks off, Bee. The job is secure, don’t worry. On the other note, do either of you feel badly about what you did?”

Sitting in the chair next to Dahlia, he gazes at us as Dahlia and I shake our heads.

“I don’t,” I say honestly.

“I was trying to figure out if it made me a freak not to feel any remorse,” Dahlia says softly.

“You were pushed farther than most people should ever be,” Jack says. “You’re a survivor, not a freak.”

Nodding, I watch as Dahlia decides to take him at face value. Gareth tried to rip us both from our lives last night, and I’m going to add it to the lost list of things that I’ll always struggle to forgive him for.

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