Page 36 of Property of Spike

The air in the car shifts, thickening with tension. Every muscle in my body locks up, my fingers flexing like they’re itching for someone’s throat.

“She’s got a concussion,” Alex continues, his voice tight. “Doctors noted dizziness, confusion, and sensitivity to light. There’s also a deep laceration on her scalp. Likely from hitting something sharp. They had to stitch it up.”

I grind my teeth, my jaw aching from the pressure.

“That’s not all,” Alex adds grimly. “Her cheekbone is bruised and swollen. Badly. And in her left eye, there’s a burst blood vessel. The report says it’s consistent with blunt force trauma.”

Maverick mutters a curse under his breath. Bones clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white.

“There’s more,” Alex says reluctantly. “She’s got bruising around her throat. Finger marks.”

The world tilts for a second.

“He choked her,” I say, my voice deadly quiet.

Alex nods. “Doctor noted signs of strangulation. She’s hoarse, likely from pressure on her vocal cords. They also note she’s having trouble swallowing.”

My vision goes red.

That son of a bitch put his hands around her throat.

Tried to squeeze the life out of her.

Tried to silence her.

“She say anything about Chuck?” I manage, my voice dangerously low.

Alex shakes his head. “No. She’s sticking to the mugging story.”

“Of course she is,” I grind out, barely able to contain my rage. “Because she knows if she points the finger at him, he’ll make sure she disappears.”

“It does say that Chuck is the one who brought her in,” he says. “He told the doctor that he found her a few blocks from their home. Dropped her off with the excuse that he had to go out and find the person who did it.”

My hands curl into fists against my thighs.

“She shouldn’t be in that fucking hospital alone,” I snap. “That bastard could walk back in at any second and finish the fucking job.”

“Then let’s make sure that doesn’t happen,” Maverick says, pulling into the hospital parking lot.

“Does it say anything about her son?” Bones asks.

“No mention of a child,” he answers. “But there’s an attached picture.”

Leaning forward, I get my first look at Riley. She’s hardly recognizable. She’s bruised and swollen, and one of her eyes is completely red.

I can’t take it anymore.

I shove open the door before Maverick can even find a spot to park.

No more waiting.

I’m getting Riley out of here, and I dare anyone to try and stop me.

“Weapon,” Alex hisses sharply. “Leave it in the fucking car.”

Without breaking stride, I yank my gun from its holster and toss it back at a waiting Bones.

“Fuck,” Alex mutters under his breath. “Don’t say a damn word, or both of our asses will end up behind bars.”

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