HALSTON
I sat at my desk, my fingers tapping against the armrest of my chair.
The glass of scotch beside me remained untouched, the ice long since melted into a lukewarm pool.
It had been exactly two hours since that brief, frustrating phone call from the old man.
He had used Kaira’s phone to tell me they were returning, offering no explanations, no apologies, and no reasons before cutting the line.
They should have been here by now.
I glanced at the clock again, my jaw tightened.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, swiping the screen open, pulling up the mapping interface.
The small red tracking dot appeared on the grid.
My eyes narrowed as I zoomed in on the digital map.
It was located on the long, isolated road that cut through the dense woods just three miles north of my estate.
I stared at the screen for a full minute, watching the red pulse stay completely stationary in the center of the grid.
If they were stuck in traffic, the dot would crawl.
If they had pulled over to argue, the coordinates would fluctuate slightly.
But this was dead, frozen stillness on a stretch of highway where no one ever stopped.
A cold, sudden knot tied itself in the pit of my stomach.
I stood up, my heavy leather chair sliding backward against the floorboards.
“Oliver!” I called out.
The door opened instantly, Oliver stepping into the room with his hand already resting near his shoulder holster, sensing the sudden shift in the air.
“Sir?”
“Ready the car and get six men in the chase vehicle,” I ordered, my voice dangerously low as I grabbed my jacket off the rack.
“We’re moving out.
Now.”
“Is there an issue?”
“The tracker on Kaira’s phone stopped.” I informed, pushing past him into the hallway, my eyes locked back onto the glowing screen in my palm.
Oliver didn’t ask another question.
He turned and immediately carried out the order.
When we finally rounded the long curve three miles out, Oliver slammed on the brakes.
The car skidded to a halt, the chase vehicle pulling up tightly behind us.
“Sir, there are tire tracks cutting off at this point,” Oliver announced.
I didn’t wait for him to open my door.
I threw it open myself, stepping out into the air.
The smell of burnt rubber and leaking fluid immediately hit my nose.
My heart gave a violent thud against my ribs—a sensation I hadn’t felt in years.
The world faded around me.
Oliver was saying something behind me, his voice shouting instructions to my men, but the words blurred into meaningless white noise.
I didn’t wait for a perimeter sweep.
My eyes scanned the broken branches along the tree line.
The ground was torn apart, deep gouges in the dirt showing exactly where a vehicle had lost total control.
“Kaira!” I called out, my voice cracking slightly under the strain.
I broke into a run, ignoring the thorns tearing at my shirt and scratching my hands.
My fingers gripped the phone so hard the screen threatened to crack as the red dot pulsed right beneath my feet.
I reached the edge of the steep.
Down in the rocky ditch, partially hidden by broken pine branches and twisted metal, was the sedan.It was entirely crushed.
The roof had caved in from the impact, the frame resting upside down in the dirt.
Wisps of white smoke drifted lazily from the mangled engine block, and the sickening scent of gasoline filled the air.
My feet froze at the edge of the dirt slope.
A suffocating terror wrapped around my throat.
I couldn’t move or think.
The sight of the wreckage threatened to bring me to my knees.
The thought that she was inside that crumpled piece of iron, that she might not be breathing, that her heart might have already stopped, made my chest burn.
“Kaira,” I whispered, the name tasting like ash on my tongue.
I scrambled down the muddy steep, my boots sliding through the loose dirt until I hit the bottom of the ditch.
I threw my weight against the crushed passenger door, the metal groaning as I yanked it open.
She was suspended against the ruined seat, her head hanging limp.
Her face was horrifyingly pale, marred by deep, dark cuts along her hairline where her blood was seeping.
“Kaira…
Kaira, look at me,” I choked out, my hands shaking as I reached into the wreckage.
I sliced through the jammed seatbelt with my pocket knife, catching her before she could fall against the shattered window glass.
I pulled her out of the vehicle, collapsing back into the damp dirt of the ditch as I cradled her body against my chest.
Her skin was cold, and the thought of never hearing her voice again hit harder than any bullet ever could.
Damn it, Kaira, open your eyes,” I muttered frantically, my fingers pressing against the side of her neck.
The world around me went completely silent.
A burning heat rushed behind my eyes.
I pulled her tighter against my chest, burying my face into her hair.
A single, silent tear spilled over my lashes, cutting through the dirt on my cheek as I squeezed her unconscious form.
Behind me, the heavy thud of boots signaled that Oliver and the guards had made it down the slope.
They stopped a few feet away, their weapons drawn to various angles around us.
Then, beneath my fingertips, I felt a faint, incredibly weak pulse fluttering against her skin.
The pulse was so faint I almost missed it.
I closed my eyes for a brief second, wiping the tears from my face with the back of my sleeve before sliding one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her shoulders.
I lifted her up gently, treating her as fragilely as I could, terrified that any sudden movement would worsen whatever internal injuries she already might have had.
“Oliver, get the vehicle running,” I ordered.
“Phone in the medical team immediately.”
“Yes sir.” Oliver responded right away and started heading back.
Carrying Kaira up the dirt slope, one of the guards stepped toward the driver’s side of the wreckage, peering into the crumpled frame before looking up at me.
“Sir,” the guard spoke, his voice trembling slightly.
“The older man in the driver’s seat…
he’s severely injured.”
I kept walking, my eyes locked on Kaira’s pale, blood-stained face as I carried her toward the road.
“Then do something about it,” I said coldly over my shoulder.
************
The front doors of the estate were thrown back against the walls as I crossed through the foyer.
Her head rested limp against my shoulder.
Blood soaked through the front of my shirt.
It stained my hands, my sleeves, and the side of my neck, but I barely noticed.
“Move.” The command echoed through the foyer as the servants scattered from my path.
The medical team had already arrived and were waiting inside one of the suites that had been converted into a temporary treatment room.
The moment I stepped through the doorway, the doctor rushed forward.
“Lay her here.” He instructed.
I lowered her onto the bed.
The second my hands left her, something ugly twisted inside my chest.
“Get her on oxygen, now!
Start two large-bore IVs,” The doctor gave out instructions, his fingers already snapping latex gloves over his hands.
A nurse held her eyelids open, flicking a harsh penlight across her pupils.
“Pupils are sluggish but reactive.
Check her vitals.
Give me a blood pressure reading!” The doctor said.
“Ninety over sixty and dropping, sir!” a nurse called out, her hands flying as she spiked a bag of saline and connected the tubing to the catheter in Kaira’s arm.
I stood at the foot of the bed, my hands clenched into blood-stained fists, my boots rooted to the floorboards.
My heart was drumming so loudly in my ears it drowned out the beeping of the cardiac monitor.
My eyes followed every single movement in the room.
I stood in utter silence, I hated not knowing what to do, I hated feeling helpless.
“Halston,” The doctor said, not looking up as he pressed a stethoscope to Kaira’s chest, listening to her shallow, uneven breath.
“You need to step out.
Let us work.”
“No,” I said not even taking a single step back.
“Sir, you’re crowding the space, we need room to control the bleeding on her temple,” one of the nurses pleaded, stepping slightly in front of me to block my view.
I stared right through her until she swallowed hard and returned to the monitors.
I wasn’t leaving this room, not until she opened her eyes, not until I knew she would be fine.
The medical team continued working.
Every time one of the machines made a sound, my pulse skipped higher.
Eventually the activity in the room began slowing down.
The urgency disappeared.
The nurses started putting equipment away.
The doctor removed his gloves, throwing them into a waste basket before turning his gaze toward me.
He gestured with his head toward the quiet hallway outside.
I cast one last look at Kaira, before following him out.
The door clicked shut behind us.
The doctor removed his glasses.
The words hit me harder than I expected.
Some of the pressure crushing my chest eased.
“Concussion?
Multiple cut?
Bruising?
Severe shock?” I waited.
The doctor understood what I was really asking.
“There are no signs of internal bleeding.”
Good.
It should have been good.
But then his expression changed.
“But?” I pressed, stepping closer.
“Right now, she is deeply unconscious.” He sighed.
“How long?” I asked, my eyes boring into his.
“How long until she wakes up?”
It was glaringly obvious on the doctor’s face how uncertain he was.
“I don’t know, Halston.”
My jaw tightened.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“We stabilized her.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
He stepped back a bit but I followed up.
“We’ve done everything correctly.”
Still not an answer.
“Doctor.” The word sounded more like a threat than a call.
His eyes met mine.
“Hours.” He choked out.
“Possibly longer.”
The lack of certainty felt like a blow to my chest.
His expression softened.
“I’ll return personally to check on her.”
I looked past him toward the bedroom door.
The doctor kept talking.
Something about nurses, something about monitoring her condition but I barely heard any of it, because all I could think was that she still hadn’t opened her eyes.
************
The room had finally gone quiet.
Kaira lay against the white sheets, her dark hair spread across the pillow, bandages wrapping parts of her forehead and arm.
The dried blood had been cleaned away, but it didn’t change the image burned into my head.
I walked over to the side of the bed, and pulled a chair up beside her.
I didn’t care about the dried blood stiffening across my chest or the dirt on my hands.
My eyes traveled slowly across her face.
Kaira had never for once look fragile.
She was fierce, infuriating and stubborn.
But seeing how broken she looked made my heart ache.
My jaw tightened.
I reached out, sliding my fingers into hers, wrapping my palm around her hand.
My thumb brushed against the back of her hand.
“You just never listen, do you?” I muttered quietly.
My gaze remained fixed on her sleeping face.
The first attempt had taken my attention.
This one had taken my patience.
There would not be a third.
I would hunt them down.
Every single person who had a hand in this.
It wouldn’t matter if they hid cities away, continents across, or at the very fucking edge of the earth.
I would rip their lives apart piece by piece.
I would make them crave the mercy of a quick death, knowing that whatever form of torture I bestowed on them would never be satisfying enough.
I would burn their entire world to ash, and I wouldn’t stop until I found the coward pulling the strings behind that mask.
Thank you for reading.
What do you think happens next?