Derision (The Broken Bonds 7)

I watch the nurses lift the sides of the bed, bracketing my brother in a cradle of shiny metal. I follow behind them as he’s taken to a private room, reciting a promise in my heart that I’ll be here when he wakes.

As Jefferson drives us over the bridge to Arlington, I run my fingers over the jotted visiting hours on the back of the paperwork. I don’t care if Jake’s unaware of my presence, if I was allowed to be there every day and night, I would be.

I fold the documents and slip them into my purse, drained. I am suddenly so drained, but I know I won’t sleep. “Jefferson?”

“Yes, ma’am?” His gaze catches mine in the review mirror.

“Would it be terribly inconvenient for you to take me by the office?”

“No, ma’am. Not at all.”

“You can call me Alexis. I think we know each other well enough.” That’s not true. I know very little about the man who chauffeurs Chase around, but right now, the silence is killing me.

“I’m sorry about your brother, Alexis.”

A tight smile rims my mouth. “Thank you. I think he’s going to be okay…in time.” How much time, is the question. And whether or not he’ll disown me all over again once he realizes I’m the reason for his commitment.

I can’t worry about that right now, though. Jake just escaped death, and he’s not completely out of the woods yet. So for now, I just need to do this one thing at a time.

Before the news of Jake’s overdose tilted the world off axis, Chase and I were making headway on the case. I almost reach for my phone to text him. Or call him—to hear his voice. I don’t, though. I want his explanation, his reasoning, for why he kept Jake’s whereabouts from me—but I want it when I can mentally comprehend my feelings.

That’s not this moment.

However, with all Chase has done for me tonight, I doubt he’s been able to work further on the case and come to a clear decision about Malcolm Bates.

I reach into my purse and bring out the skylark necklace. As Jefferson pulls up to the front of the building, I link it around my neck. “I might be a while,” I say. “You can go ahead and leave. I’ll be all right.”

He swivels in the seat to face me. “Mister Larkin gave me implicit instructions, Alexis. I’m to take you directly home before I’m relieved of my duties tonight.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” I give him a warm smile. “I’m sure you have much better things to do than wait on me. I don’t know how long I’ll be”—I glance up at the sixth floor—“I live just a few blocks away.”

His handsome face twists in uncertainty. He glances at the time on the dashboard, then exhales heavily. “Do you know the code to disable the alarm?”

I didn’t even think about that. My brain still feels foggy. Jefferson realizes this with a smile before he exits the car and walks around to my door.

He escorts me to the front of the building, where he unlocks the door and shows me how to disable and enable the alarm. “Here’s my personal number,” he says, handing me a card. “I’d prefer if you called for a ride to your apartment.”

Deciding I don’t want to get him in trouble—or worse, fired—I nod. “All right. A compromise. I’ll call you when I’m done. I’ll try not to be too long.”

He tips his head. “Take your time. I have no life.” He grins, revealing a more relaxed side. “That’s why the boss hired me.”

A small laugh escapes me, and I’m relieved I’m still capable—that I’m able to express emotions other than grief. Maybe I’m exhausted. Or just so out of sorts that I’m operating below my usual level of awkward disconnect with people. Regardless, once he leaves and I’m inside the elevator, I ride the car up to the offices of Lark and Gannet with a little less pressure constricting my ches

t.

I’ve never been here alone before. Without Chase, the floor is more imposing, making me regret my initial decision and almost turn around and walk home.

Only the thought of Chase sacrificing his time for me spurs me on, and I unlock my office and go inside. All the files are just how Julia and I left them. A mess.

I claw my unruly hair into a ponytail and sigh out the rest of the tightness from my lungs. There’s a heavy sleep feel to my eyelids. I blink hard, giving my head a shake. The thought of curling up on Chase’s couch is tempting. It might be the only way I’ll sleep tonight, being able to inhale his scent that lingers in his office.

Pushing the thought aside, I open my laptop and dive into the files. If Chase did have the victim’s revised statement picked up, he left the original here. I tweak it from the folder and try to pick up where we left off.

It’s mostly the same as her first statement. All but the amended sheet to the back. I flip there and widen my eyes, eradicating the thought of sleep from my mind. My eyes start to close, the words bleeding into each other. I have to reread each line, and as I read a sentence for the third time, my skin prickles, startling me fully awake.

I read aloud so I can register what I’m seeing. “He took his glove off and forced his fingers inside my mouth. He told me to ‘take what I give you’ and ‘your mouth wants it’.”

My office is too small, too quiet. The pounding of my heart pulses in my ears as I push away from the desk. It could be a coincidence—her statement reads like she’s revealing the actions of any sick individual—but the quoted words of her attacker are too specific for me to ignore.