Chapter 14 - The Anatomy of a Relapse
The words struck my heart like a hollow-point bullet.
St. Jude’s was my life’s work—the center I spent my own savings and Aiden’s clean capital to rebuild.
There were forty children undergoing chemotherapy and acute trauma recovery on that third floor right now.
"They don't want the children," I said, my voice dropping to a terrifying, deadly calm.
"They want to draw me out into the open."
Aiden turned to Marcus, his expression completely wiped clean of humanity.
The warmth that had blossomed in him over the last year vanished behind a fortress of obsidian ice.
"Issue Code Black to every team in the city," Aiden commanded, his voice vibrating with lethal authority.
"Every weapon out of storage."
"Surround the medical center, sever all civilian communications within a two-mile grid, and cut power to the elevators."
"Boss, what about the police?" Marcus asked cautiously.
"If a single siren wails within five blocks of that hospital, buy the precinct commissioner or put him in a cell," Aiden snarled.
"No law enforcement."
"No press."
"Nobody leaves that hospital alive except Clara and the children."
I grabbed Aiden's forearm, digging my nails into his heavy linen sleeve.
"Aiden, look at me!"
He turned his head slowly, and for a terrifying second, his dark eyes didn't recognize me.
The beast had broken out of its cage, ravenous and completely detached from reason.
"I am not going to sit in an armored limousine while you turn my hospital into a slaughterhouse," I insisted.
"You are not entering that building," he said through clenched teeth.
"Those are my patients, Aiden!" I yelled, stepping into his personal space until our chests met.
"I know the ventilation shafts, the auxiliary power backups, and the pharmacy access codes!"
"If your men go in shooting blindly, the children will catch crossfire or Vittorio will release the nerve compound into the vents!"
Aiden trembled, his breath coming in jagged, shallow gasps.
The old trauma—the panic that used to seize him when his territory was violated—warred fiercely against his protective instincts.
I brought both hands up, cupping his rigid jawline, forcing him to meet my eyes.
"You are not the helpless child in that cellar anymore," I whispered, holding his gaze fiercely.
"And you are not the soulless monster they tried to forge."
"You are Aiden Chambers, my husband, and we protect what is ours together."
Aiden closed his eyes, leaning his weight against my palms for five excruciating seconds.
When he opened them, the blinding rage had condensed into diamond-hard focus.
"Marcus," Aiden ordered without moving his eyes from mine.
May you like
"Prep two light tactical vests and high-caliber suppressed sidearms."
"Mrs. Chambers is leading the tactical breach through the basement medical tunnels."
