Page 49 of Oathbreaker

The receptionist moves from her spot behind the closed glass window.

“I’m getting creative. Who else would protect your father and hide him?”

“I don’t know, Leo. I’ve given you a list. Ella has given you a list. Short of knocking off everyone who has had interactions with Father over the last decade?—”

Leo’s beleaguered sigh stops my tirade.

“Just—fuck,” I say.

The need to make my father pay for his sins, to make him beg for mercy at the end of my gun before I blow his brains out, sits sharp and metallic on my tongue.

He can’t hide forever.

“We’ll keep looking, H.” Leo goes silent, and the soundlessness feels heavy.

“What else?”

“Panacea is DOA at this point.”

I pinch the skin between my eyebrows. “The fuck, Leo?”

“The FDA wants to come in and get access to our proprietary tech.”

“Well, obviously, they can fuck right off with that.”

“That’s what I told them.”

I blow out a breath. “To be completely fucking honest, I don’t care.”

“Hunter,” Leo begins.

“I don’t, Leo! I don’t care what happens with it at this point. Later, maybe. But right now?”

Right now, BwP could completely implode, and I would not give a singular fuck.

“We’ll revisit this later,” he says finally. “But no one is getting the tech.”

“Sure,” I mumble.

“God-fucking-damnit,” Leo snaps, and then he hangs up.

I run my fingers through my hair again, taking a moment to press at the corded muscles in my shoulders when my phone vibrates again, drawing my attention away from the sterile waiting room.

Glancing at the screen, I find a message from an unknown number.

A Scar.

A Liar.

The coldness in the room seems to intensify, mirroring the chill that now grips my insides.

Who the fuck is this?

I stare at the screen for several long moments, and the unknown number doesn’t respond. I look around the waiting room. No one is here, even the receptionist hasn’t returned to her station.

I take a screenshot of the conversation and send it to Max.

Figure out who the fuck this is.

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