chapter 4
1099 Words
[Night shift 10:13pm]
The night shift ended at 10:13PM.
Ixora walked out of LA General alone. Badge still suspended. Name still dirty. Mateo was staying with their neighbor tonight, so she had no reason to hurry.
The parking garage was empty. Concrete echoing her steps. Fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like insects.
She reached her Civic. Keys in hand. Then hands grabbed her from behind.
Mouth covered. Arms pinned. The smell of cheap cologne and bleach.
She screamed. Once. Twice. The sound bounced off concrete and died. No one came. 4 AM in downtown LA. No one hears anything.
A needle pricked her neck. Cold spread fast. Her knees buckled. Last thing she saw was the garage ceiling spinning, then black.
---
*Terrance Valente’s Mansion. Bel-Air. 4:22 AM.*
He’d discharged himself 6 hours ago. Against medical advice. Against the doctor’s warnings. Against his own stitches.
“They’re afraid of him,” the attending had said. “When Valente says he's discharge, we discharge. Even if he bleeds out in his car.”
Now he was in his room. Dark. No lights on. Just moonlight cutting through floor-to-ceiling windows and the glow of a cigarette between his fingers.
The room was all black and steel. No photos. No softness. Floor to ceiling shelves with medical journals next to guns. A king bed untouched. The air smelled like smoke and iron.
On the floor in front of the fireplace lay his tiger.
Massive. White and black stripes. Eyes gold in the dark. Scar across its nose from a fight Terrance didn’t talk about. The animal didn’t purr. It watched. Same way Terrance watched people. Like it was calculating where to bite first.
A knock. His man, Ten, entered. Built like a wall. No expression.
“Sir,” Ten said. “We found her.”
Terrance didn’t turn from the window. Exhaled smoke.
“She was taken outside the hospital garage. 10:14 PM Black van. No plates. Heading north.”
Ten waited.
Terrance took another drag. Ash fell on the marble floor. The tiger’s ears twitched.
“Are you giving orders, sir?” Ten asked.
Terrance dropped the cigarette. Crushed it under his bare foot. Blood still stained the bandages under his shirt, but he didn’t flinch.
“I’m coming,” he said. Voice low. Final.
The tiger stood. 400 pounds of muscle. It looked at Terrance, then at the door. Waiting.
“Take ten men,” Terrance said. “And take him.” He nodded at the tiger. “She’s afraid of animals.
Ten nodded. The tiger padded to the door without sound. Ten followed with 10 armed men.
Terrance stayed behind. He pressed his palm to his stitches. Pain shot through his ribs. Good. Pain meant he was awake. Pain meant he wasn’t drugged like he used to do.
“Ivy,” he whispered to the dark room. “Don’t you dare die before I get to hate you properly.”
---
*Hospital. LA General. 10:30 PM*
In the Chief of Surgery’s office, Selene, Mara, and Renata met without lights.
“They took her,” Mara said. Checked her phone. “Black van. My contact in parking security confirmed it.”
Selene smiled. “Good. If she disappears, the investigation closes. No server logs. No trial. No Dr. Cross.”
Renata frowned. “What if Terrance finds her?”
“He won’t,” Selene said. Konstantin’s men have her. Konstantin wants her dead. Terrance wants her alive. Either way, she’s not our problem anymore.”
Mara pulled up Ixora’s suspended badge on the screen. “I’ll plant falsified server logs tonight. Show her login from a remote IP. Case closed by morning.”
“Make sure it’s clean,” Selene said. “I want her gone before Valente Holdings buys the last wing of this hospital. I’m not sharing air with a woman who touched him.”
They didn’t know Ten had already left the building. They didn’t know the tiger was faster than their lies.
---
*Dungeon. Abandoned Warehouse. North LA. 4:57 AM.*
Cold concrete. Rust on the walls. Water dripping somewhere.
Ixora woke to pain in her shoulders. She was standing. Tied to the wall. Wrists bound above her head with zip ties that cut into skin. Ankles strapped to metal rings in the floor. Like a fish hung to dry. Bare feet on cold cement.
She tested the restraints. Pulled. The ties held. Blood ran down her arms.
Footsteps. Heavy. Then the door scraped open.
Ten walked in. 10 armed men behind him. And the tiger.
The animal filled the doorway. Head low. Gold eyes locked on her. It smelled like rain and blood.
Ixora’s breath caught. Fear hit her like a fist. She hated fear. Hated that her body remembered it from prison. Hated that her throat closed.
Ten stopped 5 feet away. Studied her like she was a problem to solve. “Mr. Valente sends his regards,” he said flatly.
“Why am I here?” she rasped. Throat dry from the drug.
“Not here,” Ten said. “He’s coming. But he sent this first.” He stepped aside. The tiger moved forward. Slow. Deliberate. Each paw silent on concrete.
Ixora screamed. Loud. Raw. It tore from her chest before she could stop it. She thrashed against the ties. The metal rings bit into her ankles. “Get it away! Get it away!”
The tiger didn’t stop. It came closer. Close enough that she could see its teeth. Close enough to feel its breath on her bare feet.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Waiting for teeth. Waiting for blood. Waiting for death.
Then the tiger bolted.
Not at her. Past her. A blur of white and black that hit the back wall and turned, snarling at the armed men behind Ten.
Ten didn’t even look. He turned and walked out. The door slammed. 10 men followed. Leaving the tiger and Ixora alone. The lock clicked shut.
Silence. Except for her breathing. Fast. Panicked. And the tiger’s low rumble. It circled her once. Twice. Tail flicking. Eyes never leaving her face.
Ixora pressed herself to the wall as much as the ties allowed. “I’m not food,” she whispered. “I’m not prey.”
The tiger stopped in front of her. Sat down like a dog. 2 feet away. Still staring.
She stared back. Heart hammering. Blood dripping from her wrists to the floor.
Minutes passed. The tiger didn’t move. Didn’t attack. Just watched.
Like it was waiting for orders.
Her hands shook. Not from cold. From the truth she couldn’t outrun.
- Writer
