Chapter 199
Chapter 199:
The elevator doors opened with a cheerful ding that felt entirely inappropriate for the mood. Hilliard stepped out first, his stride long and purposeful. Cailin followed, pulling her coat tighter around herself as if it could shield her from the malice waiting down the hall.
Room 304. The door was closed.
Hilliard didn’t knock. He pushed it open and held it for Cailin.
The room was large, filled with flowers that smelled too sweet, like a funeral parlor. Charla lay in the bed, her leg elevated in a cast, her face bandaged. She looked small and fragile — a perfect tableau of victimhood.
Victoria English was pacing by the window. When she saw Cailin, she stopped dead. Her eyes, heavily lined with smudged mascara, widened in outrage.
“You brought her here?” Victoria shrieked. “Get that murderer out of my daughter’s room p>
A𝖽𝖽𝗶c𝘵𝘪𝗏𝗲 𝘴tor𝘪𝗲s 𝗼n.с𝗈m
Gregg English was sitting in a corner chair, speaking low into a cell phone. He hung up immediately and rose to his feet, his face flushing red.
“Hilliard, have you lost your mind?” Gregg barked.
Hilliard stepped further into the room, positioning himself slightly in front of Cailin — a shield, or perhaps a jailer.
“She is here to have her injuries documented by a hospital physician, which is her right,” he announced, his voice cutting cleanly through the hysteria. “And to inform you that she has agreed to a mutual restraining order. The circus ends tonight p>
Charla stirred in the bed. She opened her eyes — one was swollen shut, the other glazed with painkillers. She looked at Cailin, and for just a moment, Cailin caught the flicker of triumph behind the pain. A restraining order meant Cailin was legally branded the aggressor.
“Hilliard,” Charla whimpered, reaching out a trembling hand. “I’m scared. Don’t let her hurt me again p>
“She’s not going to hurt you,” Hilliard said, though he made no move to take Charla’s hand. He turned to Cailin and gave a curt nod. Get it over with.
Cailin drew a slow breath and swallowed the bile rising in her throat. She walked to the foot of the bed, her gaze fixed on the white blanket, refusing to look at Charla’s gloating face. She didn’t need to say a word. The legal document said it for her. She simply had to stand there — a living testament to their victory.
“That’s it?” Victoria scoffed, stepping closer. “She nearly kills my daughter and she just gets to stand there p>
“The lawyers are handling it, Victoria,” Hilliard warned.
“It is not enough p>
Victoria lunged forward. Before Hilliard could react, she swung her hand.
Smack.
The sound cracked through the quiet room like a pistol shot. Victoria’s palm connected hard with Cailin’s cheek. Cailin’s head snapped to the side, the force of the blow splitting her lip. She tasted the metallic tang of blood.
The room froze.
Hilliard looked horrified. He seized Victoria’s wrist as she raised her hand for a second strike. “I said stop!” he roared.