Bone crunches beneath my fist as I slam it straight into my father’s nose.
A deep sense of satisfaction fills me as his head rears back, rolling with the momentum of my punch. Blood gushes down his face and drips onto the carpet.
I grin at the mess.
He tries to staunch the bleeding, but nothing seems to work. “Looks like you’re more like me than I thought.”
Something dark takes over me. “Get out!” I roar as I lunge at him. My fingers grip onto air as he stumbles backward, tripping over his shoes as he holds his head back.
The pressure in my chest doesn’t lessen as he disappears through the double doors. Hopefully he returns to whatever corner of hell he crawled out of before I have a chance to get my hands on him again.
Iris huffs. “Well, that didn’t go exactly as expected.”
I turn around, finding her hand clutched to her chest. Her twisted expression has my blood rushing to my ears.
“Please tell me that wasn’t the big plan you’ve been working on.”
She scoffs. “No. I got a bit derailed, but rest assured, my other idea is fool-proof.”
“I’ll be the judge of that given your current track record.”
She laughs before wincing at the hand pressed against her chest. “Ouch.”
“Let me have a better look.” My pulse quickens as I assess her injury. I’m careful not to touch the skin near her knuckles, keeping mind of the swelling.
It doesn’t look like an open fracture so at least that is good news. “You’re insane. There’s no other explanation for why you would punch someone in the face without knowing how.”
“I thought it would be like the movies.” She flinches as she checks out the damage.
“We need to get you to the hospital to have it checked out.” I choke on the words, unable to process the reason I decide to make that call. I fucking despise hospitals.
“No! I’m fine. See!” She wiggles her fingers and recoils.
I’m hit with the urge to go find my father but hold back.
“Why would you punch him?”
Her jaw locks together, and she looks down at her purple heels.
I lift her chin with my finger. “Tell me.”
She sighs, and it takes an exorbitant amount of effort not to shake the answers out of her.
“Promise not to do anything illegal if I tell you?”
“No.”
Her head drops. “You’re not going to be happy.”
“I’m never happy.” Except for rare occasions. All of which Iris is a part of.
She looks back up at me. Her eyes have a sheen to them that has nothing to do with her injured hand. “He offered me money to…”
“To what?” Every muscle in my body tenses.
“To prevent me from having a baby. Ever.” She looks away as if she can hide the way her face is a wreck of emotions.
I’m already halfway out the door, body hot to the touch and my head empty of any thoughts besides finding my father and pummeling him into the ground.
I should have known he would try to pull off a stunt like this. Part of me had stupidly hoped he would have some sense of decency left, but it seems he doesn’t have a moral bone left in his body. I underestimated just how far he would go to retain his position as CEO. Because without it, he would have nothing to live for. His kids hate him and his wife is dead. Losing his executive position would be the last blow in his miserable life.
Iris grips onto my arm and tugs me back. “Wait!”
“I can’t talk to you right now.” I can’t talk to anyone, let alone her.
You’re the one who brought her into this mess. What did you expect?
Blood heats beneath my skin. I try to shake her off, but her hold only grows more desperate.
“I need you to take me to the hospital.”
I pause, seeing through the cloud of red haze blocking my decision-making. “What?”
Her misty eyes lock onto mine. “I’m in a lot of pain.”
Fuck. I release a ragged breath and shut my eyes. “Harrison will take you.”
“Please don’t make me go alone.” Her plea is my undoing.
My plan to send my father into a coma slips away as I shut my eyes and nod my head. “Fine. Let’s get you to a doctor.”
23
DECLAN
S ince Iris is unable to hold a phone herself, I’m tasked with typing everything she dictates. I knew Iris handled a lot, but I didn’t fully realize the depth of her job until she had me working through each task with her.
No wonder she isn’t happy. The number of emails she has to sift through in a given hour would drive anyone insane. Or maybe I’m just going crazy by sitting this close to her. The smell of her coconut soap is permanently ingrained into my memory as she sits flush against me, pointing at different emails with her uninjured hand.