Chapter Nineteen
Devyn
Sweet.
It’s the first thing that flutters through my mind as I ease into consciousness.
I’m hooked on Sweet.
There’s nothing else in my mind as I jackknife into a sitting position, clawing at my throat, tearing at my hair, attacking the IV that’s attached to my hand, so sure am I that I’m already being treated for drug addiction.
Strong arms envelop me and push me back onto the mattress, my cheek rubbing against the starched white of a pillowcase.
“It wasn’t Sweet,” the voice says, but I don’t believe it and I struggle, kick, anything to wrench free. Tears leak out of my eyes, my heart pounds in a frantic, desperate rhythm, and I clench my jaw against an anguished scream.
“Itwasn’tSweetitwasn’tSweetittwasn’tSweet,” the voice chants, lips against my ear, breath hot against my skin. “Devyn, listen to me, baby. It wasn’t Sweet.”
I stop fighting, and my scream dissolves into tears.
Rick.
“It wasn’t Sweet,” he whispers, his grip never loosening. “Everett and Stevie knocked you out with a sedative. You’ve been in the hospital sleeping it off.Trust me.”
I do, I do with my whole heart, and I stop fighting, my tears of fear turning into tears of relief.
“I’ve got you,” Rick promises, holding me, whispering kisses over my cheek. “I’ve got you.”
I lose track of how long we lie like that, his body curled around mine until he groans.
“I have to get up, I’m sorry,” he says, and he releases me, sitting up with a stifled moan.
Rolling over, I force my eyes open.
Rick’s sitting on the edge of the bed dressed in jeans and the casual button-down shirts I love, his sleeves rolled to the elbows. He wipes the tears from my cheeks. “Hey.”
I let out a watery laugh. “Hey. Is Talia all right?”
“Yeah. She’s with Beau. Mack didn’t let her out of his sight while you were in the center talking to Simpson. She’s been here with me waiting, but the hospital makes her skittish and she’s spends a lot of time with Beau at his penthouse. What happened, Devyn?”
“I need to sit up too,” I say.
“Easy. They’ve been flushing that out of you for two days. What do you remember?” With a hand to my back, he helps me into a sitting position, and unable to stay away from him, I rest my cheek against his chest.
He wraps his arms around me and presses his lips to the top of my head.
I’ve been out of it for two days. There are so many questions I want to ask that have nothing to do with his accident, but I can’t skip over what happened because of my need for reassurances.
“Not much. I talked to Neil, and he admitted giving Tony Kelly the wrong manual and highlighting the incorrect counterweight needed for the lift. He said he’s addicted to Sweet, and Declan Everett knew it and used it. When I said I was going to expose him, he told me that while a nurse showed me where to meet him, he called Stevie. I knew I was trapped.”
“You should have called Mack,” he says. “He’s trained for that kind of thing.”
“All I could think about was keeping Talia safe. She’d never survive being addicted again. I went out a side door, and that’s where they got me. I don’t remember anything else until I woke up just now.” I lean away from him and meet his eyes. “We figured it out, didn’t we? We have what we need to send Declan Everett and Stevie Johansson to prison.”
Rick sighs. “Not exactly. Simpson killed himself, Devyn. He overdosed on Sweet in his room, and a nurse found him when he didn’t show up for group therapy. He left a note outlining his role in what happened, but when Everett was brought in for questioning, he lawyered up and denied the whole thing. He’s still in custody, but they don’t have enough to hold him for much longer. When Beau and I went out to the site and met with the crane engineer, he found the warning system had been tampered with, and it’s in the hands of the CHPD.”
I rub at my eyes, and the tape holding my IV in place tugs at my skin. “How did you find me?Wheredid you find me?”
“We went to the OSHA offices and talked to Fred McAllister. He knew about the whole thing, and he covered it up for money. I made him drive me out to Stevie’s warehouse—not the one on Pike—she built a new one on Highway 65. She was holed up there with Everett, and all he could talk about was the fucking site, and how he’d had plans for the property. That’s when I knew he’d dumped you there. He’s obsessed. It took me a while to find you.”