Page 183 of Burn Like An Angel

“What? Where is he?”

“A couple of floors above us being fussed over by nurses he keeps threatening to stab.” I smile broadly. “Slight skull fracture, but unfortunately, still alive.”

Tears well up and streak down her bruised cheeks, causing me so much fucking pain, I don’t think I can take it. I gently ease her from Raine’s arms to swipe the moisture away.

“It’s okay, baby. We’re all fine.”

“I was so scared, Nox.”

“I know. I’m so fucking sorry, Rip.” The apology spills out of me in a jumbled rush. “I hate that you were taken from us.”

Ripley’s breath shudders, causing her gown-covered body to shake between us. We both sandwich her closer, offering gentle reassurances and touching her wherever possible.

It’s a while before she can suck in a full, unobstructed breath again. The machine she’s wired up to eventually calms, her heartbeat evening out and returning to a healthier, only slightly elevated rate.

“Are you hurt?” I study the fluids hanging above her bed.

Ripley leans back to shake her head. “Elon was injecting me with some drug cocktail. The doctors are just making sure it’s all flushed from my system. I was pretty dehydrated too.”

“Any other injuries?” Raine frets.

“Concussion.” She winces at the sight of her bandaged wrists. “And rubbed myself raw trying to escape the shackles Elon put me in. No permanent damage.”

“I can’t believe he took you to Harrowdean.” White-hot anger is a bitter weight inside me, causing my body to tense up. “What a fucking nut job.”

“You heard?” Ripley glances up.

“The Anaconda team debriefed us,” Raine explains, sitting on the bed. “They’re the ones who caught up to you. Ethan, Becket and apparently some big, scary dude called Hyland from another team.”

“Those were Enzo’s words,” I point out.

“Isn’t he big and scary?” He laughs.

“I’m not answering that, Raine.”

“That’s a yes. You were intimidated.”

“I was not!”

Ripley smiles, sinking into the pillows. “I don’t remember any of that. I was fading fast by then.”

Trying to gauge her mental state, I decide to rip the Band-Aid off. “Your uncle is dead, Rip.”

“I know.” She screws her eyes shut. “I… I killed him.”

“It was you?” Raine arches a blonde brow.

“Yes. I stabbed him.”

We’re both silent for several seconds, processing the confirmation of what we suspected. The description of the crime scene on that private jet, mere seconds from taking off, didn’t leave many other explanations.

I still wasn’t sure she had it in her. Ripley is many things, but I know she’s never taken a life before. Even if she’s ruined plenty of them. Taking that step extracts a different kind of mental toll.

She shakes her head, bloodshot eyes flicking back open. “He wanted to keep me drugged up like some kind of zombie prisoner. I had no choice.”

Raine clutches her hand tight. “You did what you had to.”

“Does that make it right?” Her bottom lip wobbles.

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