THE TETHER
KAIDEN
The apartment is tooquiet when she leaves.
I watch Emma disappear into the elevator, bag over her shoulder, heels clicking on the marble. She turns at the last second, catches me watching, smiles and waves. The doors close.
The silence rushes back in.
I hate this. The crutches, the boot, the way my ribs protest every time I breathe too deep. I hate that I can't drive her to work myself, that I'm stuck in this glass box while she navigates a world that doesn't know how to appreciate her.
I hate that she saw me stumble yesterday. That she has to remind me to take my pills like I'm a child who can't be trusted with his own body.
The coffee she made sits on the counter, still warm. I take it to the window, lean on one crutch, stare at the city below. Somewhere down there, the person who tried to kill me is walking free.
My phone buzzes. Maddox.
Maddox: Update. Call when you can.
I call immediately.
“Talk to me.”
“Good morning to you too.” Maddox's voice is dry. I hear keyboards clicking in the background. He never stops working. “The brake line was definitely tampered with. Clean cut, then resealed to look normal. Whoever did this knew what they were doing.”
“Professional.”
“Very. I pulled the security footage from Hammond HQ's parking structure. The afternoon you were there meeting Victor. Most of it was corrupted or conveniently erased. But I found one angle from a service camera they missed.”
“And?”
“Someone in dark clothing, face obscured, approached your bike. Spent about four minutes underneath it.”
“That's it? No face?”
“No face. I'm running gait analysis, body measurements. It's not much, but it's something.” A pause. “There's more.”
I wait.
“The corruption on the security cameras wasn't random. Someone accessed the systems remotely and wiped specific time windows. That takes skill and access. This wasn't some street thug, Rhodes. Whoever did it had credentials to get into Hammond's security network.”
I set down my coffee. Hand isn't quite steady.
“Someone inside Hammond Industries.”
“Or someone with access to their systems. Which narrows it down to about two hundred people, plus any contractors with network privileges.”
I think about my father. His ruthlessness, his need for control. But something doesn't sit right.
“It's too direct for Victor,” I say slowly. “He doesn't get his hands dirty. He destroys people through lawyers and board meetings and whisper campaigns. He wouldn't risk a murder investigation.”
“Unless he's getting desperate. The divorce rumors are heating up. His mistress is apparently pregnant. Helena's been making moves on the board.”
“How do you know about the divorce?”
“I know everything.” Maddox says it without arrogance. Just fact. “Your mother has been quietly meeting with attorneys. Your father's been moving assets. The Hammond empire is fracturing, and you're holding shares that could tip the balance either way.”
I close my eyes. The familiar weight settles on my chest. Even from a distance, even after everything, I can't escape their gravity.
