really
shocked that it came to an end so quick and easy. After all that running and plotting and
scheming, we took him down and he was as meek as a lamb.”
“Is he hurt?” she asked, thinking of
Cullen, and how devastated he was going to be.
“Like I said, the guy was a total softie
when we took him into custody.” Lucas shook his head and laughed again. “To be honest, I expected more of a
fight. I was preparing for bullets
whizzing by my head and all that good stuff. But, no. Preston Sharpe surrendered. And he’s already giving up his friends
and leading us to all the money and data. As we speak, cybercriminals and hackers around the world are being
rounded up and arrested. We just
broke it wide open. And I suppose I
should thank you for the part you played,” Lucas said.
“Whatever,” Ivy mumbled. She made direct eye contact with
him. “Now you’ve gotten your chance
to gloat. Feel better?”
“Actually, I do,” he said, straightening
his tie. He sat forward as if to
get out of his seat, but then he turned and looked at her once more. “You know, if I didn’t hate you so
fucking much, I wouldn’t have worked nearly as hard on breaking this case as I
did.”
She shook her head. “That’s just pathetic on so many levels,
Lucas.”
“I thought the least I could do was thank
you for your help in motivating me.” He finally stood up, smoothing his blazer. “God, I hate hospitals. They smell of desperation.” Then he turned and looked at her one
last time. “Oh, damn. That’s you I’m smelling.”
Ivy turned away from him and stared out
the window. She wouldn’t give him
the satisfaction of seeing how much his news had hurt.
Lucas walked out of the room. She could hear his footfalls and then
the door opening and squeaking shut.
When she knew he was gone, Ivy let out a
shaky, furious breath. She was so
hurt and scared and angry.
Everything was falling apart now.
It was possible that in the very near
future, Cullen and his father would both be in prison and Ivy would be left
completely alone, no family, few friends, and a life in tatters.
Don’t
give up hope. Don’t let Lucas
win. This is exactly why he showed
up here.
He
wanted to make you sad and defeated. Don’t let him win.
But she couldn’t help it.
It seemed like the Lucas’s of the world
were winning and she was losing. She was losing everything she held dear.
The next few hours passed by slowly, and
each minute felt like a lifetime. She
could hardly focus.
It was a kind of limbo. The hospital waiting room was white and
sterile and hardly anything changed from one moment to the next. What remained constant were the feelings
of fear and helplessness and despair.
She prayed, but it felt like there was
nobody listening.
And then time speeded up again as Cullen
came back into the waiting room, walking straight towards Peg and her father.
“Becca’s out of surgery,” he said.
The older man was trembling as one hand
reached out as if to grab Cullen. “Is she going to live?” he said, his tone pleading, as if Cullen was the
one who could simply decide whether the patient lived or died. As if Cullen wasn’t at the mercy of god
or nature or the laws of the universe just like everyone else—like he was
the judge, jury and executioner.
“Becca came through marvelously,” Cullen
told him.
Peg gave a shriek of relief and began
sobbing, face in her hands, sounding almost like an animal.
“Oh, God, thank you. Thank you, Dr. Sharpe,” Mr. Woodhouse
said, his hands clutching his daughter now. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
“I need to caution you,” Cullen
said. “She’s been through a lot and
she’s still considered to be in critical condition. There could still be complications and
we need to monitor her very closely over the next couple of days to make sure
she’s continuing to
shocked that it came to an end so quick and easy. After all that running and plotting and
scheming, we took him down and he was as meek as a lamb.”
“Is he hurt?” she asked, thinking of
Cullen, and how devastated he was going to be.
“Like I said, the guy was a total softie
when we took him into custody.” Lucas shook his head and laughed again. “To be honest, I expected more of a
fight. I was preparing for bullets
whizzing by my head and all that good stuff. But, no. Preston Sharpe surrendered. And he’s already giving up his friends
and leading us to all the money and data. As we speak, cybercriminals and hackers around the world are being
rounded up and arrested. We just
broke it wide open. And I suppose I
should thank you for the part you played,” Lucas said.
“Whatever,” Ivy mumbled. She made direct eye contact with
him. “Now you’ve gotten your chance
to gloat. Feel better?”
“Actually, I do,” he said, straightening
his tie. He sat forward as if to
get out of his seat, but then he turned and looked at her once more. “You know, if I didn’t hate you so
fucking much, I wouldn’t have worked nearly as hard on breaking this case as I
did.”
She shook her head. “That’s just pathetic on so many levels,
Lucas.”
“I thought the least I could do was thank
you for your help in motivating me.” He finally stood up, smoothing his blazer. “God, I hate hospitals. They smell of desperation.” Then he turned and looked at her one
last time. “Oh, damn. That’s you I’m smelling.”
Ivy turned away from him and stared out
the window. She wouldn’t give him
the satisfaction of seeing how much his news had hurt.
Lucas walked out of the room. She could hear his footfalls and then
the door opening and squeaking shut.
When she knew he was gone, Ivy let out a
shaky, furious breath. She was so
hurt and scared and angry.
Everything was falling apart now.
It was possible that in the very near
future, Cullen and his father would both be in prison and Ivy would be left
completely alone, no family, few friends, and a life in tatters.
Don’t
give up hope. Don’t let Lucas
win. This is exactly why he showed
up here.
He
wanted to make you sad and defeated. Don’t let him win.
But she couldn’t help it.
It seemed like the Lucas’s of the world
were winning and she was losing. She was losing everything she held dear.
The next few hours passed by slowly, and
each minute felt like a lifetime. She
could hardly focus.
It was a kind of limbo. The hospital waiting room was white and
sterile and hardly anything changed from one moment to the next. What remained constant were the feelings
of fear and helplessness and despair.
She prayed, but it felt like there was
nobody listening.
And then time speeded up again as Cullen
came back into the waiting room, walking straight towards Peg and her father.
“Becca’s out of surgery,” he said.
The older man was trembling as one hand
reached out as if to grab Cullen. “Is she going to live?” he said, his tone pleading, as if Cullen was the
one who could simply decide whether the patient lived or died. As if Cullen wasn’t at the mercy of god
or nature or the laws of the universe just like everyone else—like he was
the judge, jury and executioner.
“Becca came through marvelously,” Cullen
told him.
Peg gave a shriek of relief and began
sobbing, face in her hands, sounding almost like an animal.
“Oh, God, thank you. Thank you, Dr. Sharpe,” Mr. Woodhouse
said, his hands clutching his daughter now. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
“I need to caution you,” Cullen
said. “She’s been through a lot and
she’s still considered to be in critical condition. There could still be complications and
we need to monitor her very closely over the next couple of days to make sure
she’s continuing to
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