Chapter 49
Fracture Lines
Asher
The sharp click of my shoes against the tile echoes through the lab as I storm toward the exit, my pulse a slow, simmering rage. Violet follows behind me, her steps hesitant, and her body still thrum with the aftermath of what we just did.
I don’t look at her. I can’t. Not with the fury clawing at my throat, barely contained.
“Boss—” Maverick’s voice cuts through the tense air as he catches up to me, his expression unreadable but his tone cautious. Smart. He knows better than to poke the bear when I’m like this.
Behind him, Dr. Patel—my lead scientist, always meticulous and unbearably precise—adjusts his glasses, clearing his throat, while his lips press into a thin line. “Mr. Redmont, we need to discuss the—”
“Not now.” My voice is razor-sharp, cutting through whatever excuse he was about to offer.
Patel’s gaze flickers to Violet, and that’s all it takes for the fury to snap its leash.
My hands slam against the metal doorframe as I turn on them, voice dangerously low. “If I so much as hear a whisper of what happened in that lab tonight, I will personally ensure none of you work in this field again. Do you understand me?”
Patel swallows hard, nodding. “Of course, sir.”
Maverick, the bastard, just smirks. “Bit late for that, don’t you think?”
I whip toward him, my glare enough to make most men cower. “Mav.”
He chuckles but lifts his hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying. Can’t exactly un-see that.”
Violet stifles another giggle, her shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter. She finds the entire thing hilarious, the fact that we got caught, and the shock on their faces. It only fuels my fury.
I shove the door open, stepping outside into the night air, the cool air hitting me like a slap. My pulse is still hammering, my mind replaying the way Patel had looked at her, and the way Maverick had smirked.The fucking audacity of it all.
My driver is already waiting, standing beside the sleek black car under the dim lights. My grip tightens around the car door, muscles coiled with leftover rage. I need to let it go. Need to focus on something else. But the fury doesn’t settle—it lingers, shifting into something more dangerous. My jaw aches from clenching. Without a word, I pull open the back door for her, the movement sharp, controlled—but barely.
She hesitates, like she can feel the storm still raging in me.
I finally look at her then, my jaw tight. “Get in, Vi.”
Her lips press together, but she slides inside without protest. I shut the door harder than necessary, tension bleeding from my grip. The driver pulls out smoothly, oblivious to the chaos still clawing at my ribs.
Pain lances through my side as I shift slightly, trying to ease the pressure without alerting her. The stitches barely held through what happened in that lab, and every movement sends another sharp warning through me. Violet notices the tension in my posture, her sleepy gaze flicking up to me with lingering amusement.
"Still mad?" she teases, nudging me lightly with her elbow.
I cut her a sidelong glance, my jaw tight. "I'm debating whether or not to throw you out of this car."
She snickers, but her gaze drops to my side, where my shirt is undoubtedly damp with blood. Her fingers brush against the fabric before she can think better of it. "You're bleeding still."
"Not the first time," I mutter.
She exhales through her nose, exasperated but not pushing it. "You need to let the doctor fix it."
"I'll handle it."
"That’s not handling it, that’s ignoring it."
I shake my head, exhaling. "You act like everything is yours to fix."
She hesitates, fingers curling slightly before pulling back. "Maybe," she hisses, her voice softer now. "But I don’t like seeing you in pain. Even when you're being insufferable."
