Conflict of Heart

Chapter 32

"Are you sure that you're alright, sweetheart?" Nathan asked her for the umpteenth time as they stood beside each other in her mother's hospital room.

Isabella drew a shaky breath into her lungs and nodded. "Yes, I'm alright," she said, offering him a small smile before looking back at the people in uniform moving about the room.

She watched as one woman wearing gloves grabbed the discarded syringe and placed it in a plastic bag. Her brows furrowed as she watched the substance inside, and her thoughts raced back to the experience she just had.

"Miss Walker, if I may have a word?"

Isabella felt her back tense at the sound of the voice that spoke. Slowly, almost meekly, she looked up. Ryker stood before her, his sharp gaze intent on her face. Her stomach churned when their eyes met, and she quickly averted her gaze, knowing that her cheeks had grown warm under his gaze.

She flinched when she felt her father's hand touch her shoulder. "Go ahead. I need to make a call quickly." He rubbed her back in encouragement—as he always did when she was a child—and she had to hide the hiss of pain that threatened to escape.

She smiled tightly before finally looking back at the man before her, only to notice that he was already leaving the room. She stood slowly, followed him reluctantly, and skirted past the odd officer who was still taking a turnabout the room for anything else they might find.

The cool hallway felt like a breath of fresh air compared to the crowded, stuffy hospital room, and she drew in a lungful, only to wince when the smell of disinfectant churned her senses. She wavered on her feet briefly as nausea hit her, and she braced one hand against the wall when her vision spun.

She looked up when she felt a gaze upon her and noticed that Ryker had turned to watch her, his brow burrowing into a deep frown. Steeling her nerves, she straightened and walked toward him, doing her best to maintain a cool exterior.

However, dread filled her body and shame roiled her stomach as she followed him into the small waiting area. He turned to look at her then, and the expression on his face made her start.

"Are you hurt?" he asked immediately, walking up to her.

A sudden inexplicable panic racked her body when he neared, and she stumbled back a step. "N-no, I'm okay."

He stopped instantly, watching as she clasped the arm of one of the chairs with a shaky grip. He frowned, and she noticed a muscle tick in his jaw.

The atmosphere around them grew cold and intense as he watched her with his unrelenting gaze. She felt her fingers tremble against the chair, and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth anxiously, unsure of his reactions.

Seeming to sense her discomfort, Ryker drew a slow deep breath into his lungs and eased his expression. "Please take a seat. If you feel able to, I need to ask you a few questions."

Isabella hesitated and glanced down at the chair beside her. She pressed her lips together, her dark eyes flickering to notice his expectant gaze, and moved to sit down. Her breath hitched when her back shuddered at the movement.

"You are injured."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and offered him a tight smile as she finally settled in her seat. "I'm alright. I just want to get this over with."

A flash of emotion raced across Ryker's features at her words, but he masked it too quickly for her to decipher its meaning. He nodded and went to grab another chair, placed it an appropriate distance in front of her then sat down.

He was silent as he pulled out a tablet and pen before leaning it on one thick thigh. He looked back at her, the tips of his dark hair kissing his eyes. "Please tell me what happened."