Chapter 16 #4
"I know." Morrison's voice was quiet but firm.
"And that's four too many. But without your help, Fletcher would still be in that office.
Her cousin would still have access to the virus.
They'd still be waiting for the next opportunity.
" She looked between me and Ruka, and I saw something in her eyes I hadn't expected—respect.
"I'm sorry for what happened to your people. The system failed you."
"The system always fails the Orcs," I said, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice.
"Maybe." Morrison didn't look away. "But today, two people chose to do the right thing anyway. That matters. It won't bring those you lost back, but it might save countless others." She extended her hand, first to Ruka, then to me. "Thank you. Both of you."
"Just make sure she never gets the chance to hurt anyone else," I said.
"You have my word on that," Morrison replied, then turned away from us to oversee the ongoing investigation.
Tammy emerged from around the corner, face drained of color, looking like she'd aged a decade in the past hour.
But it was the man behind her who commanded the room's attention—silver-haired and distinguished in a dark suit that probably cost more than my rent, radiating the kind of authority that came from years of experience.
"Dr. Bennett." He extended his hand toward me, his voice smooth as aged whiskey.
"Aaron Webb, CEO of Franklin Memorial." His gaze shifted to Ruka, and I steeled myself for the familiar cocktail of fear and revulsion.
Instead, something unexpected flickered across his features—shame, raw and unvarnished.
"And you must be Chieftain Ruka. I owe you both an apology. A profound apology."
My arms remained crossed, my hand conspicuously not reaching for his.
"An apology?" My voice could have cut glass.
"Your medical director just confessed to bioterrorism.
To deliberately weaponizing smallpox against an Orc village.
So tell me, Mr. Webb—how many people in this hospital knew what she was doing? "
His hand dropped to his side. "I didn't. God help me, I had no idea.
" The words came out rushed, desperate. "But ignorance isn't innocence, is it?
This happened under my roof, on my watch, and that makes me complicit whether I knew or not.
" He turned back to Ruka, and this time he didn't flinch from meeting his eyes.
"Chieftain Ruka, you and every Orc in this territory are welcome at Franklin Memorial.
What Nadine did, what she believed—that poison ends here. Today."
"Words are cheap, Mr. Webb." Ruka's voice came out quieter than I expected, controlled when every instinct must have been screaming to let the rage I knew he felt escape.
"Your medical director tried to destroy my people.
She said there were others—believers in her twisted cause.
How do we know you're not one of them? How do we trust anyone here? "
"You don't." The admission seemed to cost him something.
"Not yet. But I'm going to earn that trust back if it's the last thing I do.
Outside investigators, complete transparency, new protocols from the ground up.
And anyone—anyone—found to be involved in this conspiracy will face the full weight of the law.
" He pivoted back to me, and I saw calculation flash behind his eyes.
"Dr. Bennett, I know Nadine terminated your employment, but I'd like to offer you the position of Medical Director.
We need someone with your integrity to help us rebuild what she destroyed—"
"No." My response was immediate, flat as a slammed door.
Webb actually blinked. "I... you already have another position?"
"I'm opening a clinic." My voice softened, and when I glanced at Ruka, something warm bloomed in my chest. "In the Orc village.
A place where people can receive care without fear.
Without wondering if the hands treating them want them dead.
" I held Ruka's gaze for a heartbeat longer before turning back to Webb. "Thanks for the offer, but no thanks."
"If you change your mind," Webb offered.
"I won't."
I turned my back on Webb then, a deliberate pivot that spoke louder than any words could.
I felt my shoulders straighten as I faced the exit, and understood what that simple gesture meant.
I wasn't just refusing a job offer. I was turning my back on the hospital itself—on everything it had represented to me for years.
I heard him clear his throat, a shocked sound, before he turned on his heel, heavy footsteps fading along the corridor.
"Ruka, can you take me home?" I asked, letting my fingers intertwine with his.
He smiled down at me, golden eyes sparkling with love and pride. “Anything you want, my mate.”
As we turned toward the exit, Tammy stepped forward, her movement hesitant.
"Jordan." Her voice cracked on my name. "I'm so sorry. For all of it. For being blind, for not seeing what was right in front of me, for not stopping her before..." The tears came then, hot and fast, carving tracks through her makeup. "Those people. Oh God, those children..."
My posture softened by degrees. "You didn't know, Tammy.
When Ruka brought Ardin in, you helped him.
You treated him like he mattered. We won't forget that.
" I paused, weighing my next words carefully.
"If you really want to make a difference, come work at the clinic.
We're going to need nurses who actually give a damn. "
Tammy's hand flew to her mouth, fresh tears spilling over. "I will. I swear to you, I will."
For a moment, we simply looked at each other—two women who'd worked side by side for years, separated by circumstances neither of us had fully controlled. Then Tammy closed the distance between us, her arms opening tentatively, asking permission.
I stepped into the embrace.
We held each other tight, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs, my hand rubbing slow circles on her back. This was forgiveness, understanding. Recognition that we'd both been caught in Nadine's web, just in different ways.
"Thank you," Tammy whispered against my shoulder.
"Don't thank me yet," I said, pulling back with the ghost of a smile. "The clinic's going to be a lot harder than this place. No fancy equipment, no backup, just us and whatever we can make work."
"Good." Tammy wiped her eyes, something like determination settling into her features. "I need something real right now."
I squeezed her hand once, then let go. I turned to Ruka and felt the exhaustion finally catching up to me, settling into the lines around my eyes.
"Let's go home."
Ruka offered me his arm, and I took it, leaning into him as we walked toward the exit.
The automatic doors whispered shut behind us with a sigh and mountain air rushed to greet us—crisp, pine-scented, alive—washing away the hospital's antiseptic stench like a baptism.
After hours breathing recycled air thick with tension and betrayal, this felt like the first real breath I'd taken in forever.
The sun balanced on the mountain's edge, bleeding gold and crimson across the peaks, transforming the world into something almost sacred.
I made it three steps toward the Hummer before I stopped. Just stopped, as if the gravity holding me upright had ceased all at once. My shoulders curved inward, my head bowed, and I felt the exact moment the adrenaline that had kept me standing finally abandoned me.
Ruka closed the distance between us and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his chest.
I melted into him, my fingers clutching at his shirt like he was the only solid thing left in the world.
The tremors started small—a shiver, a catch in my breath—then built into something deeper.
Silent tears soaked through his shirt, hot against his skin.
He tightened his hold, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other pressed flat against my spine, and let me break apart in the only safe place left.
"It's over," he murmured. "Nadine will pay for what she did."
I pulled back just enough to look at him, my eyes red-rimmed but fierce. "Will she? Really? Or will some lawyer find a loophole, some technicality—"
He cupped my face in his hands, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. "The FBI has her confession. They have witnesses. They have the vial." His voice roughened. "And if somehow human justice fails, there is still Orc justice. She will answer for the deaths she caused. One way or another."
Something in my expression shifted, softened. I rose up on my toes and kissed him—not the gentle, tentative kisses of our early days together, but something deeper, more desperate. A kiss about survival and choice and the knowledge that we had not been beaten. Hurt, yes, but not beaten.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, I laughed—a shaky, watery sound. "God, I needed that."
"So did I," he admitted, pressing his forehead to mine.
We stood there for a long moment, just holding each other as the mountain wind whispered through the pines and the sun painted the world in shades of fire. The beauty of the day felt almost obscene given what we'd just faced, but I was grateful for it anyway. Life continued. The world kept turning.
My expression clouded again, shadows chasing across my features.
I caught my lip between my teeth—that tell of mine when worry gnawed at me that I knew he noticed.
"Ruka... what Nadine said. About there being more of them.
More people who want to hurt the Orcs." My gaze lifted to his, and I felt the weight of it there—the fear that this victory might be nothing more than a single battle in an endless war.
"What if this isn't over? What if there are others planning something worse? "
The question hung between us like smoke.
He was quiet for a moment, turning my words over in his mind.
I'd heard the hatred thrumming beneath Nadine's every word, seen the zealot's conviction burning in her eyes when she'd spoken of her invisible army.
But I'd also witnessed something else today. Something that mattered.
The nurses' faces when comprehension had crashed over them—that raw horror, that bone-deep shame, that immediate, desperate need to make it right.
The security guards who had stood with us when they could have looked away.
The FBI agents who had listened with open minds, who had chosen evidence over easy prejudice.
"There are people like Nadine," Ruka said, each word deliberate.
"People whose hatred runs so deep it becomes their identity.
People who will despise us for the simple crime of drawing breath.
" He cradled my face between his palms, and I felt the warmth of his skin, the flutter of my pulse.
"But today I also saw something else, Jordan.
I saw good people. People who were sickened when they learned the truth.
People who chose to stand with us when it would have been easier to turn away. "
He held my gaze, willing me to see what he saw. "I have to believe that those people—the ones who choose compassion over cruelty—outnumber the bad."
My eyes searched his, looking for cracks in his conviction, for the reassurance I needed. He didn't flinch from my scrutiny.
"My people have survived war, displacement, and now disease," he continued, his voice gaining strength.
"We have endured because we adapt. Because we forge alliances where we can and bare our teeth when we must. And now?
" A smile tugged at his lips. "Now we have you—a human doctor who fights for us with the ferocity of any Orc warrior.
" His smile widened. "Who punches murderers in the face without hesitation. "
That startled a laugh out of me—genuine this time, bright and unexpected. "I probably shouldn't have done that. Very unprofessional."
"It was glorious," he assured me, his grin turning wolfish. "And immensely satisfying to watch."
We lingered there a moment longer, drawing strength from each other like roots intertwined beneath the earth, before finally stepping apart. I wiped my eyes one last time and squared my shoulders, that determined fire kindling once more in my chest.
"Take me home," I said, echoing my earlier words. But this time they carried a different weight—not the desperate plea of someone fleeing chaos, but the quiet certainty of someone choosing where they belong.