Chương 5
“Then who was it meant for?” Malcolm asked.
Rafe looked toward the empty space where Victor had been found.
And for the first time since the shooting, he looked uncertain.
“June.”
“June?”
Malcolm’s voice was quieter now.
Not because he did not believe Rafe.
Because he did.
Rafe stood slowly, ignoring the protest from his side.
The pain was there.
Sharp.
Persistent.
Useful.
It reminded him that he was not invincible.
He hated that reminder.
“How long was Victor unconscious?”
Malcolm checked the report.
“Unknown.”
“Who found him?”
“Police got an anonymous call.”
Rafe looked at the paper again.
“Anonymous.”
“Yes.”
“Convenient.”
Malcolm nodded.
“That was my thought.”
Rafe looked around the warehouse.
Dust covered the floor.
Old machinery sat against the walls.
The place had been abandoned for years.
But someone had chosen it.
Someone had known where cameras were absent.
Someone had known how to make Victor disappear without killing him.
“Did Victor say anything?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“He was sedated when they transported him.”
Rafe folded the evidence bag and handed it back.
“Where is he?”
“Boston General.”
Rafe started walking toward the exit.
Malcolm followed.
“You are going to see him.”
“Yes.”
“You are also going to see June.”
“Yes.”
“And you are going to explain why you kept this from her.”
Rafe stopped.
The question hit harder than expected.
“I was going to.”
“When?”
Rafe did not answer.
Malcolm sighed.
“That is what I thought.”
Rafe looked over his shoulder.
“You have known me a long time.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Then you know why.”
“I know why you do it.”
Malcolm’s expression softened slightly.
“I do not know why you think it works.”
Rafe stared at him.
Malcolm continued.
“You protect people by keeping them in the dark.”
“That keeps them safe.”
“Sometimes.”
A pause.
“Sometimes it just means they are alone.”
Rafe had no response.
That was becoming a problem.
He was used to having answers.
The drive back to the hospital was quiet.
Not peaceful.
Quiet.
There was a difference.
Rafe sat in the back seat looking through messages.
Three missed calls.
Two from June.
One from a number he did not recognize.
The unknown number had no voicemail.
He stared at it longer than he wanted to admit.
Malcolm noticed.
“Call it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever it is wanted me to see the number.”
“And?”
“And I do not reward people for controlling the timing.”
Malcolm looked at the road.
“You really are exhausting.”
“I hear that often.”
“From people who love you?”
Rafe looked out the window.
“Mostly.”
The hospital was already busy when they arrived.
A family argued near the entrance.
A child dragged a stuffed animal across the floor.
A man in work clothes slept sitting upright with his arms crossed.
Normal problems surrounded them.
Rafe sometimes forgot the world contained problems smaller than survival.
June was waiting outside Victor’s room.
She crossed her arms when she saw him.
“You left.”
“I had somewhere to be.”
“You had a hospital bed.”
“I had information.”
Her eyes moved to Malcolm.
Then back to him.
“What happened?”
Rafe hesitated.
That was enough.
June’s face changed.
“What happened?”
“Victor was found.”
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
Relief came first.
Then suspicion.
“Why did you look like that when you said it?”
Rafe looked away.
June stepped closer.
“Rafe.”
The way she said his name was different from everyone else.
Not a warning.
Not a command.
A reminder.
“He was attacked.”
“By who?”
“We do not know.”
“Then why are you hiding something?”
Rafe’s silence answered.
June’s expression hardened.
“You promised me after Mom died.”
He looked at her.
“June.”
“You promised you would stop deciding what I could handle.”
The memory arrived without permission.
A kitchen.
A broken plate.
A sixteen-year-old girl crying quietly because she thought nobody could hear.
Rafe at twenty-two standing there with blood on his knuckles after a fight he refused to explain.
He had promised her then.
He had failed her many times since.
“I am trying to protect you.”
“I know.”
Her voice softened.
“That is the problem.”
She looked toward Victor’s room.
“You think protection means carrying everything alone.”
Rafe said nothing.
Because she was right.
Again.
A nurse stepped out.
“Family of Victor Salazar?”
Rafe and Malcolm moved forward.
June stayed back.
The nurse looked at Rafe.
“You are?”
“Employer.”
The nurse studied him.
Then looked at the others.
“Only two people.”
June touched Rafe’s arm.
“Go.”
He looked at her.
“I am fine.”
“I did not ask.”
A small smile appeared despite everything.
Tessa would have appreciated the similarity.
That thought surprised him.
He wondered when he had started imagining her reactions.
Inside the room, Victor looked smaller than Rafe remembered.
That bothered him.
Men who worked around violence were usually imagined as permanent.
Untouchable.
Victor looked human.
A bandage covered his forehead.
His hands were bruised.
His eyes opened slowly when Rafe entered.
“Boss.”
The word came out weak.
Rafe stepped closer.
“Do not talk.”
Victor ignored him.
“June.”
“What about her?”
Victor swallowed.
“The hotel.”
Rafe leaned forward.
“What about the hotel?”
Victor’s breathing changed.
Fear.
Real fear.
Not performance.
Not manipulation.
“Someone inside your house.”
Rafe became still.
“What does that mean?”
Victor looked toward Malcolm.
Then back at Rafe.
“I was trying to stop it.”
“Stop what?”
Victor closed his eyes for a moment.
“When I found out who had access.”
Rafe’s voice lowered.
“Who?”
Victor opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
The door behind them opened.
A doctor entered.
“You need to let him rest.”
Rafe did not move.
“Who?”
Victor looked terrified.
Not of Rafe.
Of the answer.
“I saw the account.”
“What account?”
Victor’s fingers gripped the blanket.
“The one paying your security team.”
The room went silent.
Rafe felt something cold move through him.
“My security team is paid by me.”
Victor shook his head.
“Not all of them.”
The doctor stepped forward.
“Sir, you need to leave.”
Rafe looked at Victor.
“What account?”
May you like
Victor’s eyes closed again.
“I need proof.”
