It wasn’t working, and she didn’t care if his blood coated her hands. Jared was alive. He would stay alive. Titan had access to the best doctors in the country, and Jared Westin, the master of the universe, wasn’t going to die on an operation table.

Sugar spun to the ajar ambulance doors, then jumped out to the parking lot. The heels of her boots hit the ground, sending jolts of pain up her calves. For the first time in an hour, she felt something besides despair. Physical pain. And she would take that over the blanket of anguish.

No one else was around, and the ambulance entrance didn’t offer much in the way of customer service options, just busy people who didn’t notice her. She checked curtained rooms and looked down hallways, but didn’t see Jared. A sign pointed her toward the emergency room lobby, and she pushed through doors until she found the triage desk. She marched to the front of the long line of waiting people.

“Jared Westin. Where is he?”

The nurses behind the desk dropped their jaws. She caught her reflection in the Plexiglas dividing wall. The dried blood covering her face was streaked with tears, and her hair was matted against her cheeks. She turned to see the people standing in line shuffle away.

“Ma’am,” a young nurse stuttered. “Are you okay?”

Another nurse came from behind the desk. Maybe to check her injuries. Maybe to escape. Sugar looked ready to die or kill.

A wide-eyed baby-faced security officer approached her, his white-knuckled hand wrapped around a Taser gun. He mumbled into his walkie-talkie and held onto his Taser, unsure of her next move.

Like that Taser could stop me. “Where is Jared Westin?” She ignored him, placing both hands on the desk, and leaned into the nurse’s space. “Find him for me.”

“Step back from the nurse,” Baby-face called to her. Sugar turned her head. He spread his legs shoulder-width apart and bent his knees in a classic shooting stance. Someone had taught him well. “Ma’am—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” She reached over and tapped the nurse’s computer screen. “Find Jared Westin. Tell me where he is.”

Baby-face advanced. “Ma’am—”

A similarly uniformed grandpa-lookalike ran around the corner. “Wait! Wait. It’s okay.”

Baby-face kept his Taser trained on her and looked over, looked back, and over again. “Not sure about that.”

Gramps rushed over and whispered to Baby-face. Slowly, the Taser dropped until it pointed to the tile floor. Everyone in the ER watched him. The janitor was holding his mop as though he had planned to fight like a ninja.

Then, turning a knowing glance to Sugar, Gramps cautiously approached her with his hands in the air. “Jared’s in surgery. I’ll take you to a private waiting room.”

Other than the televisions hanging in the corners of the emergency room waiting area, the open space was silent.