The Wrong Bond

8

I knocked when I got to her room, which she shared with two older women and a teenager like her. The women had been discharged, and it was just Coral and the teenager, which was perfect for a little bit of privacy.

I’d tried to get her a private room in the hospital, but that cost an arm and a leg, and I couldn’t afford it.

When I walked in, Coral was propped up on a mountain of pillows, her normally bright and vibrant face a bit pale, but her eyes still had their sparkle. She broke into a huge smile as soon as she saw me.

“Ally!” she exclaimed with excitement. “You made it!”

“Of course I did,” I said, taking out the old flowers in the vase by her bed and replacing them with fresh ones. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a pincushion,” she joked, waving the IV drip that was attached to her arm. “But new episodes of One Percent Love are out, so I’m feeling better than ever.”

I laughed, pulling a chair closer to her bed. “I hope you haven’t watched any episodes without me?”

Coral rolled her eyes. “I really wanted to, but I resisted the urge.”

“Good girl.”

She squinted at me. “Where were you earlier?”

“I was getting coffee with Leah.”

“And you smell like alcohol?”

I chuckled. “Leah is a bad influence.”

She smiled. “Sure.”

“Are you excited for this season?” I asked her, getting comfortable as she clicked on the first episode.

“Hell, yeah.”

“Good, because I am, too.”

Coral nodded enthusiastically. “I hope there’s a sister pair just like last season. It was so funny to see two sisters fighting over a man.”

I threw my head back and laughed. “Coral! You can’t say things like that.”

“Why? You say them, too. And you know I take after you.”

I smiled. “You’re meant to take only my good traits, nothing else.”

“All your traits are good.”

“Really?” I asked, taken aback.

“Yeah, you’re always so brave and protective,” she said softly. “Especially now, being here with me.”

I felt a lump in my throat. “You’re my sister, Coral. Of course I’m here. We’ll get through this together.”

She smiled, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “I know. And once I’m out of here, we’ll binge-watch the rest of the season together. Deal?”

“Deal,” I agreed, squeezing her hand back.

“Well, get in here,” Coral said, patting the space beside her on the bed. I got into bed, and we snuggled up against each other. At that moment, life was perfect.

Just as I was about to settle in to watch the show, my phone dinged, meaning I’d just received a text.

I figured out a way you can solve your money issues and repay all your debts. Tomorrow, Mark’s Bar, at 9pm.

-Leah

CHAPTER 4

SHAWN

A

nger coursed through my blood, and even in the air-conditioned home gym, I could feel cold sweat dripping down my body.

I swung punch after punch at the bag, purposefully and precisely. But it wasn’t enough to ease the frustration within me.

I’d proposed the idea of changing up the entire downtown district. It wasn’t just a project for show; it was a detailed plan involving infrastructure upgrades and programs aimed at improving the quality of life for the residents. But Alexander had completely shut it down.

Punch.

He’d had the nerve to look down on my personal project, as he always did, and it irked me beyond measure.

Another punch.

How could he call himself a leader if he completely isolated an entire district, leaving them to fend for themselves? His refusal to allocate resources for essential services made no sense from a governing or ethical standpoint.

My hand flew toward the bag, giving it multiple punches, but punching an inanimate object wasn’t enough to quell the fury that had settled within me since yesterday’s meeting.

The thought of Arlene and women just like her working multiple shifts despite the hardships they faced only made me angrier. People like her deserved better, and I was determined to make a difference.

I stepped back, taking a moment to catch my breath. Sweat trickled down my forehead, but the physical exertion hadn’t dulled the sharp edge of my anger.

Ethan walked up to me, a towel slung over his shoulder. “You’re going to wear yourself out if you keep going like this.”

“I’m fine,” I muttered, wiping my face with the back of my glove.

My heart pounded in my chest as fury took over my entire body. I wasn’t just angry about the situation with the downtown district; I was angry about the segregation and discriminatory laws that bound both the uptown downtown wolves.

I was also angry at myself for thinking about all of this until I’d met Arlene. I felt like she’d really opened my eyes to things I hadn’t considered in years.

Ethan sighed and leaned against the wall. “You really didn’t think Alexander was going to give you the green flag to go ahead with your plan, did you?”

Of course, Ethan would try to get me to think logically. He’d always been the logical one among the two of us, which balanced out the dynamic of our friendship perfectly.

“Of course I know that, but I don’t care about his approval. I can do this on my own.”

He sighed again. “Maybe he’s scared, you know.”

I went back to punching the bag and snorted. “Scared of what? Losing control?”

“Exactly. The downtown district represents everything he can’t control. It’s messy and unpredictable, and you changing it would challenge his authority.”

“Well, that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”

I took off my gloves, and Ethan went behind the bag to hold it in place for me.

The news headline I’d seen this morning about rogue activity in the district was something we could have under control if we wanted to. Sure, it would be incredibly messy, but actual leaders didn’t shy away from getting their hands dirty once in a while.

Alexander f*****g Elton. How dare he?

He didn’t have to approve, but I’d told him about it because that was what decent people did. Besides, I knew it would it would get back to him one way or another, and I wanted to control how he found out.

This was a cause I was passionate about, and one that I knew would change the entire city, but he just didn’t care. Whatever was happening in the downtown district was just a boiling kettle waiting to spill over uptown unless it was properly curbed.

Making a name for myself wasn’t easy, and I always respected anyone who could advance in this world without the tag of their parent’s surname. But I could do nothing about my lineage, and that infuriated me. I wanted to make my own way in the world, but I didn’t know if I was making a change or if doors were opening for me because of my surname.

I hit the punching bag harder than the first time, my fist colliding with the hard, tight fabric of the bag, and Ethan staggered behind it. I hit it harder and harder, my hits vicious and precise. I imagined my father’s smirking face on the punching bag.

The pain from my bare first connecting to the bag pierced through me, but I didn’t care. All I saw was red, and I made sure that the bag in front of me felt it, too.