Bad Girl by Goode, Ella (chrysanthemum read aloud .txt) 📕

alarm, and got injured. I bet she’s going to try to sue us. I’m going over to the hospital right now and see if I can get her to agree to a nominal settlement in exchange for not pressing charges.”

“No. I’ll do it. You need to keep on the hunt for Leila and the buyer of Park Hill.” I make a sharp right. “The hospital is only five minutes from me.” I peek at the skyline. “I can see the top of the building. Call me if anything changes.”

“Okay. There are police at the door. I’ll let them know you’re coming,” he says, his voice full of relief.

I throw my keys to the valet and hustle inside. Maybe this woman is related to the buyer of the Park Hill project. It seems like a person hellbent on revenge would be the type to also try to destroy my existing properties. Connor texts me the patient room number and outside the door, I show my ID to the police officer.

The cop hands my ID back. “She’s sedated right now. I don’t know how many questions she can answer.”

“Might as well give it a try. If something is useful, you’ll be able to go home.”

That perks him up, and he steps to the side. “Have at it.”

Not three steps into the room, horror swamps me. Leila lies on the white hospital sheets, her arm handcuffed to the rail. A monitor is taped around her index finger, and the susurration of the pulse ox machine clicks and whirls in the background. My knees grow watery, and I’m forced to hold on to the railing of the bed to stay upright.

“What the hell, Leila?” My voice is hoarse as emotions of rage and fear scrape up my insides. “What are you doing here?”

She does not respond. I get nothing, not even an eye twitch. Something doesn’t fit here. Something is not right. I backtrack to the door and grab the officer by the shoulder.

“Why is she in here?” I ask. “Why’s she handcuffed to the bed?”

“Do you know her?” the man asks, his eyebrows beetling together.

“Yeah, that’s my fucking girlfriend. Uncuff her right now or you’re going to be facing a fucking lawsuit.” I haul him over to the bed.

He shakes me off. “Sir, this woman was caught vandalizing your building. We’re holding her in custody until she can be charged with trespassing, attempted arson, assault on a police officer—”

“Assault on an officer?”

“She tried to run and—”

“I want her handcuffs off right now. She was on that property with my permission, and you obviously scared the shit out of her, causing her to injure herself. So unless you and the city want to see a lawsuit that strips your pension, you will take the key out of your pocket right fucking now.” I’m about to commit a crime of my own.

“No need to be a jerk about it,” the officer grumbles. “Your funeral if she tries to injure you.”

“She’s hooked up to a pulse ox machine and sedated. What’s she going to do? Fire mind missiles at me?”

The officer shrugs. “Your funeral then.”

He leaves me behind. Her wrist has a slight red mark where the handcuffs abraded her skin.

“Fucking police,” I mutter and look around for some lotion. I find some thin shit in the bathroom and fill my palm with it. I hurry back the bedside and rub the cream into her wrist and arms. She feels frail and vulnerable. She must’ve come back to the D1 tower and couldn’t find me, so she pulled the fire alarm, right? She wasn’t the person behind the Park Hill deal. She wouldn’t lie to me like that. She wouldn’t let me touch her, love her, treasure her if all she wanted to do was bring me to my knees...would she?

Chapter Seventeen Leila

The sound of beeping is the first thing I hear as I start to wake. Everything comes rushing back to me like a tidal wave knocking the air out of my lungs. I don’t feel the handcuff on me anymore. I slowly open one eye but quickly shut it when I see Warren sitting beside the hospital bed. His head is down, looking at the floor.

Why is he here? Shouldn't I be in police custody or something? Facing him actually sounds scarier than prison.

“How are we doing in here?” I hear a woman ask.

“She’s still out. Are you sure you didn’t give her too much? She's so small.”

“No. She might be exhausted. She was crying up a storm before she started to have a panic attack. Are those normal for her?”

“I don’t know.” His voice sounds defeated.

“Oh. I thought I heard you say she was your girlfriend.” ‘

“I think there are a lot of things I don’t know about her.”

“Well, everything is all clear on this end. When she wakes up, she’s free to go.” Free to go? How is that even possible? She must mean from a medical standpoint. Because after what I did, there is no way the police are going to let me walk out of here.

I think I hear Warren move. A moment later his thumb brushes against my lips.

“She’s not going to be going anywhere. Are you, Leila? I know you’re awake.” Shit. He can’t prove that. What if I just lay here forever and pretend to be asleep? He’d have to get tired after a while and give up. “Open your eyes or I'll hand you back over to the police.”

I’m not so sure that’s a terrible idea. It might be easier than having to face him and admit the truth. Honesty, though, I know I could never make it in jail. So I open my eyes.

My breath catches when my eyes meet his. He looks exhausted. I wait for him to start shouting at me, but he only stares down at me.

“Why?” he finally says after a long torturous moment. I don’t know if I should feel guilty or not. Chris used me and everything