Chapter 2 - The Sterile White Room
The emergency room at St. Jude’s Medical Center was quiet, save for the rhythmic beeping of Emily’s heart monitor.
Martin sat in a plastic chair beside her bed, his large, calloused hands gently holding her unbruised fingers. He had washed the mud from his face, but his eyes were dark hollows of exhaustion and suppressed rage.
Emily slowly fluttered her eyes open. The heavy painkillers made her groggy, but when she saw her father, a tear slipped down her bruised cheek.
“Dad…” she rasped.
“I’m here, sweetie,” Martin whispered, leaning in closer. “I’m right here. You’re safe.”
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed quietly. “I didn't want you to know. Brandon said… he said if I told you, he would ruin you. He said you were just a pensioner, that his lawyers would crush you and take your truck. I was trying to protect you.”
Martin’s heart broke, and in that same moment, the remaining embers of his mercy burned away completely. His beautiful, brave daughter had endured months of torture because she thought she was protecting him.
He kissed her forehead. “Emily, I haven't driven a maintenance truck for a paycheck in twenty years. Brandon Vale is a paper tiger. And by the time the sun goes down tomorrow, I am going to erase him.”
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Outside the hospital room, Martin’s head of security, a towering ex-Marine named Vance, stepped into the doorway. “Boss,” Vance murmured. “Judith Vale is trying to post bail. And Brandon is demanding a phone call to his corporate partners.”
“Let them call whoever they want,” Martin said, his eyes never leaving his daughter. “Then freeze it all.”
