10. Protective Fury
ten
Protective Fury
Nash
Nash paced angrily in the hall outside Iris's private hospital room. Fury beat at him. She was sleeping, and she needed the rest. But every time he saw the bandages that covered her from head to toe, the cage in which he kept his beast rattled.
Someone hurt what was his. Right under his nose.
When he should have protected her, he failed.
And he was going to find out who. Sarah might have been the one who landed the blows, but she was nothing more than a tool.
Only a fool would believe that she was capable of orchestrating an attack of such magnitude.
His fist clenched when he recalled what his private security team uncovered: an abandoned SUV further back in the alley with false plates, a filed off VIN, and a disturbingly large amount of pictures of Iris.
Whoever owned that vehicle was clearly stalking his woman.
They had been for a while. And that knowledge nearly sent him feral.
The only thing keeping him from punching holes through these sterile, white walls were the drugs he had Carson pump into him. Nothing too strong, just enough sedative to take the edge off his fury. This was the time to keep his head, to stay calm and watch over his wife. Not go on a rampage.
It was only a matter of time. He cancelled the grand wedding the morning of the attack.
He couldn't risk her with someone out there wanting her dead.
A wedding was too public. Yet another crime he will add to this mystery mans tab.
He spent years studying everything she wanted in her wedding.
The plan was to give her everything she wanted this time around.
Just like the ring. He found the sketches of a ring dotted all throughout her notes. It wasn't a pleasant feeling when he realized he had never asked her opinion on her ring last time. He used his mother's ring and considered the matter settled.
It was perfectly serviceable and had a deep connection to the only other woman he'd ever cared for.
Seeing those detailed drawings of the same ring dozens of times, it hit him he'd not paid enough attention to her.
He should have known she wanted a different ring.
Or, perhaps had he told her the ring was his mother's, she would have been happy with it.
But he never did.
He wanted to give her the wedding of her fucking dreams, as an apology for how he treated her the first time.
His face set into a scowl as he recalled the look of bewildered shock when he gave her the ring on the deck of the boat.
At sunset. He was meticulous. This time around, he was going to give her what she deserved.
He'd planned everything so she would know how much he valued her. He'd expected smiles and joy.
But he got confusion instead. How badly had he treated her?
She couldn't believe that he knew her preferences?
It was clear, by the look on her face, that she found it easier to believe he proposed on a boat, at sunset, with her dream ring all on accident, rather than that he took the time to give her that memory.
He grit his teeth; the memory reigniting his fury. But, no matter. That was all in the past.
No more reservations. She might never accept the role he played in his less than savory dealings, but that was inconsequential. The benefit of forcing her hand in accepting his proposal meant that there was no more fear on his end. She won't be leaving him. Because he wouldn't let her.
The fact he now had to cancel all those plans of her perfect dream wedding caused the bars of the cage of his beast to bend.
Threatening to shatter. The motive for her attack was a mystery.
He could not think of anyone who would benefit from her death.
Her parents surely hated her enough, but would they be smart enough to cover their tracks so well?
Or clever enough to orchestrate the whole thing?
Nash didn't think so. Not to mention without Iris, they were well aware of what he would do to them.
No, he feared the most likely motive was an enemy of his striking out against him.
They knew he was untouchable. He had climbed so high in the underground world that no one could touch him.
Still, if their goal was to stop the wedding, they failed spectacularly.
He was calling off the wedding, not the marriage.
No, they would have a private ceremony somewhere that he could lock down and control all the risks. It was already in motion. As soon as Iris felt well enough, she would walk down that aisle and he would claim her for all the world to see. Finally.
He moved heaven and earth five years ago to earn her. Hid all his worst tendencies, showed her nothing but the man she deserved. He shoved all his darker tastes down, refusing to introduce her to the world he was a part of. But that all changed when she disappeared.
He feared the worst. That his connection to the dark, seedy underbelly of the world had put her at risk.
That someone took her as a punishment for him.
When he got engaged to her last time, he was low enough in the hierarchy that they thought they could control him.
Dictate to him about who he could marry.
The Blackworths were old money in some circles.
But when it came to the people he associated with... That was not the case.
They did not approve of him choosing a bride from an 'outside' family.
The Blackworths were reckless upstarts who were destined for destruction, as far as they were concerned.
Nash had no argument against that. It was the truth.
Iris's parents were the worst kind of wealthy.
Arrogant. Entitled. Secure in the notion of their superiority simply because a few generations back, an ancestor made it big.
But they did nothing to add to the family fortune. Had no ambition. Not like Nash. He was born into a family with more drive than that. From a young age, some could say too young, his father groomed him for the role he now sat in.
He was lethal, in the boardroom and on the streets. No one predicted just how far he would climb, though. No one. His fist clenched, showing the white of his knuckles, as he recalled just how many people made the fatal error of betting against him.
Having someone to care for, to take care of, it threw him into the next level. The urge to protect Iris, to shield her from any harm that dared come her way, beat down on him. As he stood there, the weight of their past together bore down on him like a dark cloud.
He tried to hide the truth of his nature from her.
She was the light he never knew he needed his life.
He was drowning before she came along. Every day he sank deeper into the depths of despair, but then suddenly, he could breathe.
She was soft, sweet, and everything he never knew he wanted.
Discovering Ackery’s plans was a blessing in disguise.
Before, he convinced himself she was better off without him.
Knowing he needed to protect her from someone worse gave him a reason to take what he wanted. And take he did.
He had two blissful years with her before she disappeared.
The memory of the day she had left blasted through him.
The tumultuous emotions he felt that day all came rushing back.
He keenly remembered fearing that it was his own fault.
The thought that they took her from him out of some sick desire to send him some form of twisted message sent him on a bloody rampage.
He annihilated everyone in his path, restructured the entire Umbra within one year, and took his rightful position at the top.
He was the ringleader, the puppeteer, and he could finally get answers about where she went.
He could still feel the bitter burn of hurt and betrayal as he realized no one in the network took her. No, there was only two explanations. That he had an unknown enemy. Or she left on her own. That she ran from him.
The rage and despair he felt when he accepted that she ran haunted him still.
But that was all in the past now. He had her back.
It was a small detour, nothing more. He brought her back to him, and he would make her happy again.
She was his, and he would stop at nothing to keep her by his side. She'd come around.
He'd make sure of it.
A buzzing in his pocket caused him to stiffen. He pulled the phone out and glanced at the screen.
Nightstalker.
About time.
Nash glanced back at the door to Iris's room, his jaw set in determination. The time for waiting was over. It was time to put an end to this threat once and for all. He moved down the hallway to make sure his voice wouldn’t disturb her.
“Go,” he growled into the phone after picking up the call.
“There’s news.” A deep, gravelly voice spoke over the line. “Sarah is awake.”
“And my wife is not,” he growled. The knowledge that her attacker was in better shape than Iris sent his rage climbing to new heights.
“Understood,” was all the response to the danger hidden beneath his words. “I got access to her medical chart. She was pumped full of some nasty drugs. She took one hell of a ride. Her system is all cleared out now, and she is asking to see you.”
“Why would I want to see that traitorous bitch?” the image of her standing above Iris’s prone body with a knife would never leave him. Burned into his mind by raw fear.
“Because she says she wants to tell you everything she knows.” Nightstalker's words caused his fists to clench. As much as he hated the idea of going when Sarah comes calling, he needed to find out who was behind this attack. His eyes slide back to Iris’s room. He couldn’t leave her unprotected.
“Send the Nighthawks to my location. As soon as they are in position, I’ll head out."