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Chapter 513:
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“I’m his wife!” Allison screamed, the words tearing from her throat. She gripped her own hair, tears of frustration and terror finally breaking free, streaming down her face. “For God’s sake, just tell me where he is!”
“Let her through. I’ll vouch for her.”
The voice, strained but familiar, came from behind her. Allison spun around, her vision blurred by tears.
Kip Downs stood there, his face pale and drawn. His usually immaculate suit was rumpled, and a dark, ugly smear of what could only be dried blood stained the cuff of his white shirt.
The sight of it made Allison’s stomach plummet.
Kip said something low and urgent to the nurse, who immediately began typing at her computer. He took Allison by the arm, his grip firm, and steered her away from the chaos of the reception area, toward a quiet, restricted hallway marked “VIP Suites.”
“Did he tell you to call me?” Allison asked, her voice trembling.
Kip shook his head, his eyes fixed on the hallway ahead. “No. He told me not to. The last thing he said before he lost consciousness was, ‘Don’t you dare tell her.'”
The words were a knife to her heart. Even then, in that moment, his first thought had been to protect her from worry. The tears she had been fighting back began to fall freely.
Kip pushed open the door to a private room at the end of the hall. Allison rushed past him.
Adam was on the bed. He was awake, his face a stark, chalky white against the pillow. His left arm was immobilized in a sling, held tightly against his chest by a thick layer of white bandages. A small, crimson flower of blood had seeped through the gauze, a shocking splash of color against the white.
𝖭𝗼𝗏e𝗅𝗌 іո 𝗍re𝗻𝘥 𝘰n g𝖺𝗹𝘯𝗈𝘃𝖾𝗅s.соm
He saw her, and a flicker of surprise crossed his features, quickly replaced by a weary resignation and something else, something that looked like relief.
“You weren’t supposed to be here,” he said, his voice weak but steady.
She rushed to his bedside, her hands hovering over him, afraid to touch, afraid to cause him more pain. “What happened? Are you okay? What did the doctors say?” The questions tumbled out, a frantic, incoherent stream.
He raised his uninjured right hand, intending to wipe away her tears, but she flinched away from his touch. She turned on Kip, who was lingering by the door, her fear transmuting into a sharp, interrogating fury.
“Tell me what happened. Now.”
Kip let out a long, tired breath and closed the door, shutting them in.
“We were leaving a meeting,” he said, his voice low and heavy. “Ambushed in the parking garage. Two cars. Crossfire. It was professional.”
“Gunmen?” Allison whispered the word. It sounded alien, like something from a movie, not something that could touch her life, his life.
“I’m fine, Allison,” Adam interjected, his voice firm. “It’s a flesh wound. Nothing serious.”
She whipped her head back to him, her eyes locking on the bloody stain on his bandages. “A flesh wound? Kip, tell me the truth!”
Kip glanced at Adam, who gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod.
.
.
.