Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ava
Mark has me gathered onto his lap like I’m some kind of porcelain doll.
It might not be too far off, considering the side of my head definitely feels like it might be made of broken china. A paramedic is walking down the hall toward us, and Mark starts to growl low in his chest. She freezes and shows us her hands.
Shit. He’s going into an alpha guard.
“Alpha, I need to touch her to check on her and help. I thought she was a beta. Is my information incorrect?” Her voice is a touch nervous, but she remains calm. More so than most would be.
“I’m an omega,” I say weakly. “We’re newly bonded, so he’s… a little extra at the moment.”
She nods. “That’s good to know, there are different medication interactions. I still need your alpha to stand down before I can treat you, though.”
“Mark,” I say gently. “Let the nice lady help my head. It really hurts.” I cup his cheek with my palm. “You don’t have to let me go, but she has to touch me, okay?”
He closes his eyes and buries his nose into the side of my throat, but finally nods. “Sorry, yes, help her. I’m still coming down from everything, I think,” he says into my hair, but loud enough she can hear him.
She nods in understanding. “It’s all right. Pretty common thing when omegas are hurt. Most of the doctors at the hospital are alphas, though, so you’ll need to keep it under wraps there, or you’ll get a hard nap from the happy drugs.”
I shake my head quickly, but then groan as pain lances my temple. “No hospitals. Please. I have some fairly intense medical trauma.”
She frowns. “Well, I can’t make any promises that you won’t need one, but let me check you out first, okay? My name is Katrina, by the way.”
“Hi, Katrina. My name is Ava,” I respond. “My brother-in-law is a trauma nurse at Weill Cornell. I have access to care at home, if that matters.”
“Well, it certainly doesn’t hurt.” She glances at the wound on my head. “The bleeding has mostly stopped, so I’m going to check your vitals before I clean it, okay?”
“Yes, that’s fine.”
“Can you tell me when your last heat was?” she asks as she unwraps the blood pressure cuff from my arm and jots the numbers onto a notepad from her pocket.
“It ended yesterday morning,” I say quietly. “There’s a chance I’m pregnant, but it’s too early to really be sure. My mom called just before all of this happened, and she was going to tell me my results, but…” I trail off.
“Are you cramping or have any sort of pain?”
“No, ma’am. Well, none in my belly. My head is killing me.”
Katrina shines a small flashlight at my eyes and has me follow it. Seemingly satisfied with my vitals, she starts cleaning the blood off my forehead. I hiss despite myself as she presses an antiseptic wipe against the wound. Mark lets out another low growl from behind me.
“Easy, big guy,” she says without looking up, unbothered. “I’m almost finished.”
She rummages through her bag and pulls out butterfly closures.
The sting sharpens as she draws the edges of the wound together, then dulls as she applies the bandages.
“There we go,” she says. “You’re going to be okay.
Though you’ll probably have a nasty-looking goose egg for a while, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that eye turns a little black. ”
I exhale in relief, and I feel some of the tension ease out of Mark as well.
“My main concern is a concussion,” she says, meeting my eyes.
“I don’t see anything here that requires an immediate ER visit, unless your symptoms worsen or you just want to be evaluated.
Your brother-in-law knows concussion protocol, and he can walk your alpha through what to watch for once he has you safely back in your nest and he can think a little clearer. ”
I smile. “I promise he’s normally not like this. It’s all just very new.”
She squeezes my hand gently. “You have someone who loves you. That’s a good thing.” Her tone softens a touch. “I do want you to follow up with an OB as soon as possible. Just to be safe.”
“So, I can take her home?” Mark asks, sounding mostly like himself.
“Yeah, but you’re going to want to talk with the police about the best way to do that.
I know you’ll want to carry her out, and I’m certainly not going to stop you.
We don’t have that many paramedics. But I imagine it will be like chum in the water to the sharks outside, considering who you two are. ”
Katrina packs her supplies back into her bag before giving me one last smile. “I always said I thought you two had a thing for each other. Nobody fights like that unless there’s some chemistry there.”
Mark carefully stands, cradling me against his chest bridal-style. I wrap my arms around his neck and lay my cheek against his shoulder.
“Lieutenant Mulligan, can I take Ava home? Someone from the precinct can come take her statement tomorrow, but she needs rest now,” he asks someone that I don’t bother lifting my head up to look at.
The sound of his voice and his scent soothe me, and I close my eyes against all the brightness.
I must have dozed off, because the next thing I know, the dull roar of people beyond the door jerks me awake. “Keep your head down, little cereus,” Mark murmurs. “I’ve got you.”
“Mr. Taylor! Why are you carrying Ms. Kendrick?”
“Are the reports true? Are you two bonded?”
“Ava, how long have you secretly been an omega?”
Question after question is lobbed at us.
I hear the police surrounding us and telling the reporters to back up.
I can hear the clicks of the flashes on the cameras, and I’m grateful Mark told me to keep my head in his shoulder, because I can’t even begin to imagine how painful all the light would be.
“That’s her car and driver right over there. Help us get to him, please,” Mark says to someone. I press my face closer to him, whining. I should care more about people seeing me this vulnerable, normally I would. But I just can’t seem to bring myself to care. God, I want to be home and in my nest.
“Thank you, Tony,” Mark says quietly, easing me into the car seat through the open door. “Keep your eyes closed, Ava, and scoot just enough to let me in.”
I do as instructed, curling back into his side immediately once he’s settled.
“Before we do this,” the woman in front of me says, pausing just outside the conference room, “I need to ask you something plainly.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, holding a slim folder against her chest, the seal of the New York Attorney General stamped neatly against the front. “Do you actually want to be in here?”
Mark rests his hand against the small of my back. He has the bond shut tight enough that I can’t read him clearly, but I know he isn’t thrilled—hadn’t been since I’d agreed to the request from Harvey’s attorney in the first place.
“I do,” I say.
She studies me for a moment and then nods.
Joseph Simmons’ statement had been a bombshell.
He claimed someone identifying himself as being from the mayor’s office contacted him and told him Mark and I had been sleeping together during his brother’s trial.
It hadn’t taken much nudging for Joseph to draw the rest of the conclusions on his own.
That I’d thrown his brother’s case. That the solution was to remove both me and Mark at once.
Along with assurances that he could do so cleanly with no police involvement.
It wasn’t enough to incriminate the mayor directly.
The word of a convicted felon against the mayor of New York City.
However, it was enough to get Tony and Shelby on his tail, and once those two grab a thread, it tends to unravel pretty quickly.
I don’t think the CIA could keep secrets from them if they were determined enough.
After Simmons’ arrest, Harold had immediately gone on the defensive. Before the story about me and Mark officially broke with our statement about our relationship, someone was fanning the flames that we’d been involved for months.
What saved us was that we’d already met with the NYSBA, and there was no evidence anyone could find of us having anything to do with each other outside of court or public events.
Our circle had been tight by necessity. And any stragglers…
well. I’m not entirely sure how Tony handled them, and I don’t want to know.
He told me I didn’t need to worry, and I trusted that.
Once we started digging into Harvey, the information came fast. Phone records. Burner phones. Payments routed through shell nonprofits that funneled money into consulting fees and “community outreach” accounts. Far shadier things than just this attempt on my life.
A lot of it wasn’t clean enough to use outright. Some of it had been obtained through methods that would never survive a courtroom challenge. But it was enough to convince the attorney general that there was something real there. Enough to get a warrant.
What ultimately led to his arrest was the delay.
ESU hadn’t been called immediately when I was attacked, despite protocol for an active hostage situation inside a courthouse. That alone raised red flags. Then came the proof that Harvey had paid off one of the courthouse officers earlier that morning.
The only reason Lieutenant Mulligan’s team had shown up at all was because Truck 1 had been monitoring radio traffic and caught enough irregular chatter to get uneasy. Otherwise, things could have gone very differently.
Harvey had been quietly arrested last night, which was a surprise. I’d have thought the attorney general would have eaten up the chance for the press, since Mark’s office was forced to recuse themselves from the entire investigation.
I’m not sure what Harvey hopes to gain from this proffer session. Damage control, maybe? I’m too curious to not show up and find out for myself.