Chapter 32
Thirty-Two
R uth was still weak, but for the first time in days, she was stable.
Paul had checked her vitals almost constantly, monitoring her oxygen, her pulse, the color slowly returning to her skin. The vitamin K had worked. Noah hadn’t let go of her hand. She was still exhausted, drifting in and out of sleep, but every time she stirred, every time her fingers weakly curled around his, it sent a rush of relief through him. She wasn’t out of the woods yet, but she was no longer dying in front of them.
Paul sat across the room, arms crossed, watching him. Noah ignored him for as long as he could.
Then—“So…”
Noah sighed. “Don’t start.”
Paul smirked slightly. “You really should tell her.”
Noah finally looked at him. “She just came back from the edge of death, Paul. Now is not the time.”
Paul leaned forward. “You don’t get to wait forever. She won’t stay in the dark about all of this much longer.”
Noah clenched his jaw. “She still doesn’t remember what she saw. If she saw anything. What if pushing her makes it worse?”
Paul studied him for a long moment. Then, with a sigh, he leaned back. “Fine. But the second she asks, you can’t lie to her.”
Noah didn’t answer. Because he wouldn’t lie. But telling her everything? That was something else entirely.
Paul left the room to make some food. Noah stayed, but his focus shifted. With one hand still wrapped around Ruth’s, his other hand moved to his laptop. The thumb drive. It was still there, still waiting, still hiding the answers they needed. He had been working on breaking the encryption between checking on Ruth, and now, he was closer than ever.
Noah’s fingers flew over the keys, bypassing layer after layer of security. Whoever had locked this drive had done it with serious expertise. But they hadn’t counted on someone like him getting his hands on it.
Almost there. Another sequence. A breach in the firewall. A final override. And then, the files opened.
Noah’s heart slammed into his ribs. The screen filled with rows of names, transaction records, hidden memos. This was bigger than he thought.
Noah scanned the files, his jaw tightening. Fairchild was beyond dirty. He owned Verdant Horizons—the largest contracting company in South Dakota. Every roadway project, every public building, every infrastructure deal ran through him. The contracts were rigged. The money was laundered through fake development projects. And Hilton, the man who gave Noah the drive, was the one keeping the books.
Noah clicked into another file. A ledger full of bribes. Politicians. Judges. Law enforcement. Everyone had a price. And then, the last file. Two lists: Transactional Leverage, Leverage Failure.
Noah scanned the names… journalists, activists, people who had gotten too close.
His own name wasn’t there. But there were two names that jumped out at him. Two that made his pulse pound—Thomas Calloway, the U.S. Attorney for the State of South Dakota, and the other, Ruth’s boss, Dylan Grant.
He was an afterthought for Fairchild. The random agent who met with Hilton. A thought that happened after Hilton passed on the thumb drive. And Ruth? Noah searched the file, his stomach twisting. Her name wasn’t there. None of it made sense.
Why did they try to kill Ruth? Why was she even involved? Noah rubbed his temple. The only person who could answer that was Ruth herself.
* * *
A soft sigh.
Noah’s presence shifted beside her, and Ruth felt the warmth of his grip tighten just slightly around her hand. She stirred, her fingers weakly flexing, the lingering fog of sleep pressing against her thoughts.
Her blind eyes blinked open, but there was only darkness. “Noah?” Her voice was hoarse, uncertain.
“I’m here,” he said softly.
She swallowed, her brows knitting together. “You’re always here.”
Noah let out a short breath, something like a laugh, but not quite. “Where else would I be?”
Her lips parted slightly. “I don’t know.” But this time, she felt more aware, her mind working through the haze.
The sound of footsteps. A presence approaching. Paul.
“Good. You’re awake.”
She licked her lips, her throat dry, aching. “I feel… a little better. I’m thirsty.”
“That’s because we figured out what was wrong,” Paul said.
Ruth frowned slightly. “What was wrong?”
Noah’s grip tightened. “You were poisoned.”
She froze. A beat of silence. “Poisoned?” Her own voice sounded foreign to her ears.
Paul’s voice came next, steady, clinical. “An anticoagulant. It was in your system for days. It’s why you kept getting worse.”
Her fingers twitched, and the world around her blurred further. The words pressed into her skull, sinking too deep, too heavy. She tried to think—tried to reach back through the shattered pieces of her memory. Something surfaced. A sharp inhale.
Noah immediately stiffened. “Rae? Here, take a sip.”
A straw pressed against her lips. She took a slow sip, the cool water easing her throat, but her mind wasn’t on that. She pressed a weak hand against her temple, wincing. “I… I think I remember something.”
Noah froze.
Paul’s voice was careful. “Take it slow.”
She exhaled shakily. “At my office, before the explosion. I don’t remember all of it, but… I think I found something I wasn’t supposed to.”
Noah’s voice remained calm, but she felt the tension in his grip. “What did you find?”
Her chest rose and fell too fast, her breath uneven. “I don’t know exactly… but I remember a little yellow envelope. A name.”
Paul and Noah must have exchanged a look. She felt it.
Paul’s voice. “What name?”
The memory drifted in, slippery but real. Her lips parted. “Verdant Horizons Accounts.” She shuddered.
Noah exhaled. “Where did you see it?”
Paul sat beside her as her breathing hitched, her pulse pounding too fast. Her fingers trembled, and the cup in her grasp tilted. Noah caught it before she dropped it.
“Noah…” Her voice cracked.
“I’m here, Rae. You’re safe. It’s just Paul and me.”
The images flashed through her mind—fragments, broken pieces of something bigger.
She and Noah were leaving. She had bent down… to get her boots. And then?—
Flames. Heat. The sound of metal bending.
She shook her head, her mind fighting itself, trying to hold on?—
“Ruth,” Paul’s voice broke through, closer now. “It’s Paul. I’m right next to you. I want you to breathe with me.” His hand guided hers, placing it gently on his chest. “Slow breaths.”
The steady rise and fall beneath her palm pulled her back from the edge. Her body gave in, exhaustion winning. Her eyes grew heavy. And then… nothing.
* * *
Noah watched as Paul adjusted Ruth's nasal cannula and took another set of vitals.
"Out," Paul said firmly. "She needs to sleep. Her body can't take any more stress."
Noah nodded and grabbed his laptop, stepping out of Ruth’s room. They left the door open. " We can hear her," Paul advised.
Once outside, Noah dropped his head into his hands as his mind raced. Ruth was in the lion’s den. Her boss. Melanie?
“She went to get her boots,” Noah said suddenly. “She had a coat area set up—shared the space with Melanie.”
“Who’s Melanie?”
“Her secretary.”
Paul frowned, processing this. “The envelope… what’s the significance of it?”
Noah hesitated, then pulled an envelope from his pocket. “This is how Hilton gave me mine.” His fingers tightened around it. “If Ruth saw one in her office, that means it was another thumb drive.”
Paul’s expression darkened. “Then the question is—did Dylan Grant give it to Melanie? Or did she already have it on her own?”
Noah exhaled sharply. And then it hit him.
Luke Andrews. “That’s why the ATF agent is after Melanie. She isn’t just connected—she is a key piece of the investigation.”
Paul studied Noah’s face. “So… what are you going to do?”
Noah let out a slow breath. “Put together a case. Help Ruth heal.” He paused, jaw tightening. “And then head home.”
Paul stared at Noah. “You look disheveled. Go to bed.” He yawned. “Sleep while Ruth sleeps. You need sleep. You’ll do better rested.”
Noah’s vision blurred slightly. His body ached.
Paul shoved him out the door and toward another bedroom. “Lie down. That’s an order. I’ll stay with Ruth. Even if I doze, the monitor alarms will get me up.”
Noah resisted for two seconds before his body gave up on him. He barely hit the pillow before his eyes shut.