Chapter 14: Target? But who...?
(Keifer's POV)
Pain is useful.
It reminds you where the damage is.
It tells you what still works.
What doesn't.
And what needs to be fixed.
The left side of my body still felt like it belonged to someone else.
Ribs — fractured.
Shoulder — restricted.
Movement — slow.
Unacceptable.
I adjusted my position on the hospital bed, ignoring the pulling pain.
Across the room, Jay was asleep in the chair.
Head tilted to the side.
Blanket slipping off her shoulder.
One hand still resting near the edge of my bed.
Like even in sleep, she needed to make sure I was there.
She hadn't left.
Eleven days.
I lost eleven days.
Someone took that time from me.
Someone put her in danger.
That part mattered more.
I reached for my phone.
Three days awake.
That was enough recovery time.
Aries answered immediately.
"You shouldn't be working," he said without greeting.
"Report."
Silence.
Then he sighed.
"I already knew you'd say that."
Papers shuffled on his side.
"The driver's blood alcohol level was high. Arrested on site. No prior connection to you."
"Financial records?"
Pause.
"…That's where it gets strange."
I waited.
"He cleared a large debt two days after the accident."
My grip tightened slightly.
"Amount?"
"Enough to change his life."
That confirmed it.
"Source?"
"Layered transfers. Shell accounts. Cleaned well."
Which meant money.
Which meant planning.
Which meant intent.
Not an accident.
Never an accident.
"Continue digging," I said.
"You're in a hospital bed," Aries replied.
"And someone tried to kill us," I said calmly.
He didn't argue after that.
I ended the call.
Across the room, Jay stirred slightly.
Still asleep.
Still here.
I watched her for a moment.
The bandage on her arm.
The faint mark near her hairline.
Minor injuries.
That's what everyone kept saying.
Minor.
Because I took the impact.
Because the hit came from my side.
The driver didn't brake.
Didn't swerve.
Straight into the left rear.
My position.
My door.
My seat.
Not random.
Target alignment.
If the angle had been ten degrees different—
I stopped the thought.
Irrelevant.
She was alive.
That was the only acceptable outcome.
I opened another message thread.
Felix.
Keifer: Where are you?
The reply came instantly.
Felix: Bro why are you texting at 2 AM
Felix: Also outside the hospital because Aries banned me from visiting after I asked the nurse if comas are contagious
I stared at the screen.
Then typed:
Keifer: Come upstairs.
Three dots appeared immediately.
Felix: I knew it. You're awake-awake.
Felix: Coming.
Good.
Felix noticed things other people didn't.
Because he talked too much.
People relaxed around him.
People said things.
That made him useful.
Five minutes later, he entered quietly.
He froze when he saw me sitting up.
"…Okay you look like you're about to run a company from the bed."
"Sit," I said.
He sat.
Immediately serious.
That was the thing about Felix.
Under the noise, he understood when things mattered.
"What do you remember about the crash?" I asked.
"Loud. Scary. Aries yelling. Me deciding to become a better person if we survived."
"Before the impact."
He thought.
Then frowned.
"The car was fast."
"Yes."
"And… wait."
His expression changed.
"It didn't react to traffic."
I watched him.
"The light was red for that direction," he continued slowly.
"But even drunk drivers usually slow when they see headlights crossing."
"Did it change lanes?" I asked.
"No."
"Did it correct direction?"
"No."
Silence.
Felix leaned back slightly.
"…That car wasn't trying to avoid us."
No.
It wasn't.
After he left, I looked at Jay again.
Still asleep.
Still close.
That's when the anger settled properly.
Not loud.
Not explosive.
Cold.
Controlled.
Someone watched our route.
Someone timed that intersection.
Someone paid the driver.
Someone assumed I wouldn't survive.
That was their first mistake.
Their second mistake was worse.
They calculated the vehicle.
The angle.
The impact point.
They planned to remove me.
But they didn't calculate what happens when you fail.
I reached for my phone again.
New message.
To: Aries
Increase security for Section E.
No solo travel.
Route changes daily.
Background checks on recent contacts.
Start with competitors linked to Watson logistics contracts.
Three dots appeared.
Then:
Aries: …You're going to war from a hospital bed, aren't you?
I replied:
Keifer: Someone already started it.
Jay moved slightly, waking.
Her eyes opened slowly.
The first thing she did was look at me.
"You're sitting up again," she said, half annoyed, half relieved.
"Yes."
"You're supposed to rest."
"I am resting."
She stood and walked over, adjusting the blanket anyway.
Then she noticed my phone.
"You're working."
"Yes."
She sighed.
But she didn't argue long.
Because she saw my expression.
"What did you find?" she asked quietly.
I held her hand.
"The crash wasn't random."
Her fingers tightened.
"I know."
I looked at her.
"You're scared."
"Yes."
"Good," I said calmly.
That surprised her.
"Why good?"
"Because it means you'll stay close to me."
Her eyes widened slightly.
Then she shook her head.
"You're impossible."
Maybe.
But I was also right.
I tightened my grip gently.
"They tried once," I said.
Her voice was very quiet.
"Will they try again?"
I met her eyes.
"Yes."
Silence.
Then she asked:
"What happens when you find them?"
The answer came easily.
Cold.
Certain.
"They won't try a second time."
Because this wasn't about revenge.
This was about correction.
Someone made a decision.
Someone calculated a risk.
Someone treated Jay like collateral.
And in my world—
Mistakes like that don't get forgiven.
They get eliminated.