I glanced back. Denys was already closing the distance, his long strides eating up the ground between us. Before the car could pull away, his hand shot out and grabbed the door handle.
I'd locked it from the inside. He yanked hard. It didn't give.
His face darkened to something murderous. His palm slammed against the window, and his voice tore through the glass like a blade.
"Alberta. If you leave, I'll have the hospital cut off your daughter's medication."
The threat landed exactly where he'd aimed it—right in the center of my chest.
But I held his gaze and didn't flinch.
Denys Simmons was cruel. But I refused to believe he was that cruel.
"Drive," I told the cabbie, my eyes still locked on Denys's rage-contorted face. "Please. This man is a monster."
The driver finally listened to me this time. The instant he floored the gas and the car shot forward, I caught a glimpse of Denys nearly getting clipped by the vehicle.
He chased after us for a few furious steps before stopping at the curb, yanking out his phone in frustration.
His figure grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared from my sight entirely. Only then did I let out a long, heavy breath.
The moment we reached the hospital, I forgot all about the pain in my foot and rushed toward Denise's ward. I was terrified Denys would actually have her medication cut off.
What I didn't expect was to see him already waiting at the elevator doors the second I stepped out.
His hands were tucked in his pockets, those cold eyes fixed on me—like a demon freshly returned from hell.
The instant I saw him, I spun around to run, but before I could take a single step, I crashed hard to the ground.
Denys's foot came down right on the back of my hand. It felt like my bones were being crushed.
He bent down slightly, looking at me with the posture of a victor. "And where exactly do you think you're running to?"
I bit back the pain screaming from my hand and foot, trying to struggle free, but I had nothing left.
Before I could even speak, I heard the sound of wheels rolling toward us. A moment later, Denise's attending physician stood respectfully before Denys.
"Mr. Simmons, I've brought Denise Mason over..."
The second those words registered, I wrenched my hand free like a woman possessed and grabbed the hem of his trousers, teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached. "Denys Simmons, what the hell do you want?"
"Explain what happened five years ago. Or your daughter's medication stops today." His words floated out, light as air. I watched as they began to wheel Denise away.
"No!" The scream tore from my throat, raw and desperate.
Denys turned to leave. I threw my arms around his legs. "Denys Simmons, look at Denise. Just look at her—look at who she resembles!"
Shock flickered across his face. He glanced down at me, then actually turned to look. I heard him call out, "Wait."
