Chapter 14 - CODE BLUE
Z
I threw the water pitcher first.
Not because it was a good weapon.
Because it was there.
The fake doctor raised his arm.
The pitcher hit his wrist.
A syringe flew across the room.
Gabriel woke instantly.
The man lunged toward the bed.
I hit the emergency alarm.
Gabriel, who had one functioning lung and stitches across his chest, tried to stand.
“Stay down!”
“I’m helping.”
“You are literally attached to oxygen.”
The attacker grabbed me.
Gabriel ripped the IV line from his hand.
“Gabriel!”
Blood sprayed.
Security rushed in seconds later.
Leo came through the door like he had been waiting his entire life to tackle somebody in a hospital.
The fake doctor hit the floor.
Hard.
Very satisfying.
A nurse picked up the syringe.
Later testing showed potassium chloride.
Enough injected rapidly could stop Gabriel’s heart.
No poison in food this time.
Someone had adapted.
The attacker’s real name was Derek Sloan.
Former research coordinator at Vale Clinic.
He had avoided charges because Marcus’s original records listed him as administrative staff.
The recovered archive proved otherwise.
He had participated in unauthorized procedures.
Covered up complications.
Paid families.
Changed medical files.
And he wasn’t alone.
Marcus Vale had created an entire group of professionals whose careers depended on those records disappearing.
Doctors.
Lab owners.
Attorneys.
Executives.
Some had spent twenty years believing the archive was gone.
Now they knew it existed.
Gabriel was no longer the only target.
I was.
The patients were.
Samuel was.
Everyone connected.
Gabriel tried to leave the hospital that afternoon.
His surgeon threatened to sedate him.
I supported the surgeon.
Gabriel called it betrayal.
“You were shot four days ago.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“Your lung collapsed.”
“It reinflated.”
“That is not how medical clearance works.”
He glared.
I glared back.
The surgeon quietly left the room.
Coward.
Gabriel sat down.
“I hate hospitals.”
“I noticed.”
“They smell wrong.”
“They smell like disinfectant.”
“They smell like death pretending to be clean.”
That sentence silenced me.
I sat beside him.
“You’re scared.”
“No.”
“Gabriel.”
He stared at the floor.
Finally:
“Yes.”
That mattered.
Six months earlier, Gabriel Hayes would have rather taken another bullet than admit fear.
I took his hand.
“Good.”
He looked offended.
“Good?”
“Fear tells you not to rip out your IV and chase assassins down hallways.”
“Technically I never reached the hallway.”
“Because your oxygen tube stopped you.”
“Cheap shot.”
“Accurate.”
He squeezed my hand.
“What happens now?”
That question wasn’t about the hospital.
We both knew.
Marcus was in custody.
Daniel was in prison.
But their legacy remained.
I looked toward the window.
“We testify.”
Gabriel went still.
“What?”
“The Vale records. The attacks. Marcus.”
“You testify.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
He sighed.
“Right. Sorry. Bad habit.”
“Very.”
He corrected himself.
“I think testifying puts you in danger.”
“I’m already in danger.”
“More danger.”
“I’m not hiding.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“You were about to.”
“Yes.”
I smiled.
“You’re learning.”
He did not smile back.
“Norah, these people have nothing left to lose.”
“So did Daniel.”
“And he kidnapped my mother.”
“So we protect people better.”
“You sound like Samuel.”
“That is deeply offensive.”
He laughed.
Then immediately grabbed his ribs.
“Don’t make me laugh.”
“You started it.”
Over the next month, federal prosecutors built a case.
Samuel was no longer officially involved.
But he helped identify old financial structures.
Evelyn entered protective custody.
Rosa testified privately about Marcus’s threats.
And Gabriel faced a problem nobody had expected.
His own criminal organization.
The more time he spent recovering, the more people questioned whether he was still fit to lead.
Not publicly.
Never publicly.
But Leo heard things.
Territory shifts.
Money withheld.
Meetings happening without permission.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Dante Russo.
Gabriel’s west-side lieutenant.
Forty-two.
Ambitious.
Polite.
Dangerous.
He visited Gabriel at home six weeks after the shooting.
I was there.
Dante brought wine.
Gabriel did not drink it.
“Boss.”
“Dante.”
“You look better.”
“I am.”
Dante smiled.
His eyes moved toward me.
“So this is Norah.”
I disliked him instantly.
Not because he threatened me.
Because he evaluated me.
Like a business problem.
“We’ve met?” I asked.
“No.”
“Then stop looking at me like you already know something.”
Gabriel’s mouth twitched.
Dante smiled wider.
“I understand the attraction.”
Gabriel’s amusement disappeared.
“Careful.”
There it was.
One word.
The room cooled.
Dante raised his hands.
“No disrespect.”
“Good.”
They talked business.
Shipping problems.
Collections.
People changing alliances.
I tried not to listen.
Then Dante said:
“Some men think you’ve changed.”
Gabriel leaned back.
“They’re observant.”
“They mean weakened.”
“What do you mean?”
Dante looked toward me.
Gabriel noticed.
“Look at me when you answer.”
Dante did.
“They think you’re making decisions based on family.”
“Everyone makes decisions based on something.”
“Fear used to be enough.”
Gabriel’s expression hardened.
“Fear was never enough.”
Dante smiled.
“That doesn’t sound like the Gabriel Hayes I followed ten years.”
Gabriel stood.
“You’re right.”
Dante’s smile faded.
“That man thought loyalty meant people obeyed because they were afraid to leave.”
He stepped closer.
“I don’t.”
Silence.
Dante nodded slowly.
“Good to know.”
After he left, I looked at Gabriel.
“Was that a threat?”
“Yes.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Yes.”
“Appreciate the honesty.”
He walked toward the window.
“Dante thinks I’m vulnerable because of you.”
“He’s wrong.”
Gabriel looked over.
“He’s not.”
I frowned.
He continued.
“You are a vulnerability.”
That hurt.
Then he crossed the room.
“So is my mother.”
He touched my face.
“So is Leo.”
His voice softened.
“So is loving anyone.”
I looked at him.
“I’m waiting for the part where this becomes reassuring.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Great.”
“But being vulnerable isn’t the same as being weak.”
That surprised me.
Gabriel Hayes had changed.
Not into a good man.
Life wasn’t that simple.
But maybe into a man who finally understood strength did not require emptiness.
Then his phone rang.
Leo.
Gabriel answered.
“What?”
He listened.
His face changed.
“Where?”
Pause.
“How many?”
He looked at me.
Dante had moved.
Three of Gabriel’s warehouses had been seized by his own men.
Two lieutenants switched sides.
And someone had painted one message across the doors of the west-side club:
HAYES CHOSE A WOMAN OVER HIS EMPIRE.
By midnight, the city knew.
May you like
Gabriel’s organization had split in half.
And the war everyone thought Daniel’s arrest had prevented was finally beginning.
