Forbidden Desires ✔️

~Chapter Twenty Nine~

Rosalie's POV

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The following twenty-four hours were a blur.

After the gunshot went up, I couldn't see much other than a cloud of black smoke taking ownership of the air.

I still had no clue on my Father's whereabouts, nor did the Precinct, the only update tracable was where he had left one of the SWAT vans, which was located on the hill just above the old building that we were in.

We weren't able to find Garrett, as we had came to an understanding of when the explosion hit, he had assumingly ran towards the back exit, escaping just in time.

But that was the last thing I was worried about.

When the air finally cleared, back-up had arrived, althought it was three minutes too late, giving that bastard enough time to make his almighty escape.

It was discovered by one of the Officers, that the explosion came from a gas tank, just on the outside of the building, had been pierced with one of the bullets that Garrett had fired.

Even at that, on his escape, he had mistakenly dropped the gun, and as Claire and Michael showed up, Claire had ran the seriel number through the system, only to find it was a stolen pistol.

But what feared me most, is that it was registered to one of the men from the Kristnov case. If we learned anything from that, his men don't play games lightly.

Following the gunshot, it was clear that the bullet had relfected off one of the tanks, resulting in Christian being wounded.

The bullet had pierced directly into his lower stomach, only millimetres away from his external iliac artery. If it had been any closer...

"Rosalie!"

I look up to where my name was called, only to see my Father and Damien running down the hallway.

I didn't even register it until his arms where wrapped around me. A sob escaped my lips, as I held onto him tight, feeling instant relief knowing that my Father was alive and safe.

It wasn't until my brain came to that understanding, did I pull back, forcefully slapping his arm as tears streamed down my cheeks.

"Where the fuck were you?! We thought you were dead! I thought- I thought- Hey, hey. Shh. I'm okay, Sweetpea." He craddled me to his chest, whispering sweet nothings into my ear.

"I'm sorry, Rosalie. My car broke down just outside the warehouse, I had no idea what was going on until the explosion happened. I didn't even know you guys were there. Where's Christian?"

The sound of his name brought more tears, and my body collapsed back down onto the seat below me.

"Garrett, he- he shot him. He's been in surgery for the last hour and a half. They won't tell me anything, Dad."

"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch."

My eyes flashed over my Father's shoulders, to see Damien pacing the floor back and forth.

"How did you- I was trying to trace the car you had from the Precinct and before I left, and Damien had turned up to look for Christian. He couldn't get in contact either. The cell lines must've been disconnected during the explosion. Half of the city has lost service."

I rubbed my hands over my face in frustration, just wishing this day from hell would finally be over.

"Is anyone here for a Mr Christian Harding?" Looking up, one of the doctors dressed in a blue gown stood with a clipboard in hand, and I instantly rushed over.

"Detective Dawson, NYPD. I-I'm Christian's partner. Is he okay?" I showed my badge for confirmation, and the doctor had just nodded his head to the side, requesting me to follow to speak in private.

"I'm Doctor Welsh. I am carrying out the opperation for Mr Harding. We looked through his files for any family contacts, but he doesn't seem to have anyone listed. Is there someone you can call?"

Shit.

"As far as I'm aware, he doesn't have much contact with his parents. They live on the other side of the city."

"Because of the seriousness of his injuries, there is a major risk from where the bullet had punctured. This means he will need to under-go surgery. Because of his inabilty to communicate with us on a realistic level, we do require second-hand permission from an immediate family member, or someone he has known within the previous ten years, that has been signed within his emergency contacts."

As Doctor Welsh passes me a white sheet of paper, the contacts come into view. Knowing either of his parents weren't an option, my blood boiled at the last restort.

"Is there anyone listed that we are able to call in order for us to proceed with surgery?"

"Janine Lowe. His ex wife."

Double shit.

Doctor Welsh gives me a sympathetic smile and takes back the file, excusing himself to make the call.

As I return, Damien stands with his hands in the air, awaiting for the news.

"They need Janine's signature to go ahead with the surgery."

"Oh fuck to the no. Not fucking happening. Are you crazy?"

I sigh in annoyance and ignore Damien's protest, leaning my head in my hands.

"I ain't too thrilled about this either, but she's the only one within reach that is able to sign those papers. The quicker she gets here, the quicker they can start the surgery."

Damien drops his body onto one of the seats next to me like an immature child, his leg bouncing continuously, making the chair scrape against the floor.

"Will you fucking quit it?!"

"Rosalie, you need to calm down." My Father's voice echoed above my head, making me snap.

"Calm down? Calm down?! You have no fucking right to tell me to calm down!" I stand from my seat, and start to walk off, but my arm was quickly grasped in someone's hand, spinning me to face them.

"For one, I am your Father. I have every right to tell you to calm down, when all you are doing is causing more stress for yourself. For two, don't you dare use that tone of voice with me, because I will not tolerate it for a second. Whether you're an adult or not, you are still my child. Now sit. Your ass. Down."

The tone of voice he used was one I hadn't heard for a long time. With my tears continuing, I slowly lower back down onto my seat, my eyes pointed to the floor.

Seconds later, my Father sits beside me, a warm hand resting on my back.

"I know this is a lot for you, Sweetpea. But Damien and I are here for you both. It's not the ideal situation for Janine to be here, giving the history, but if it's what is needed, then you just need to take it on the chin, and let her do her part."

He was right. I knew he was right. But that was what pissed me off even more. He was always right.

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, the loud clicking of heels against the ground echoed through the hallway, the smugness in her voice so evident, even the nurses had gave her a side look.

"I'm Janine Lowe. I believe my Husband requires my signature for his surgery?"