Stoking the Fire (Salus Security #1) - Teodora Kostova Page 0,42
“I get it.” She turns her eyes back to me, wide with surprise. “But is it worth it?”
She shrugs. “It is what it is.” She shifts, lifting her uninjured leg on the couch. “My point is, I’ve been following what’s going on. And I have to say, some of the stuff people post is disturbing. I haven’t seen the photo Alec saw, but I’ve seen plenty of threats and plenty of vitriol thrown at you. I think Alec did the right thing getting you out of there last night. Better safe than sorry.”
“So, this is it? This is how we’re going to live our lives from now on? Just because of one magazine issue where people expressed their opinion that neo-Nazis are bad?” I spread my arms wide, frustrated and feeling so damn helpless.
“I think it’s more than that.” Evie chews on her lip for a few moments as if considering how much she can say. “People have been disgruntled with the things we publish for a while, and they’ve been getting more and more vocal about it.”
“What people?”
“Patriots, nationalists, conservatives… They find many ways to call themselves.”
“Nazis. Supremacists. Extremists. I think these are more fitting for people who will go on a rampage because they don’t like your opinion, or will beat up someone on the street because they don’t like the color of their skin or the gender of the person whose hand they’re holding. Who will go in a gay nightclub and open fire on anyone who moved, killing innocent people just because they can.” I’m panting, my hands shaking as I bury them in my hair. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Evie’s eyes shimmer as she reaches for me. I clasp her offered hand. “The upcoming gubernatorial election is not helping things. Irving Wolfe is amplifying the voice of the extremists’ rhetoric and stoking the fire with wood soaked in gasoline.”
I shake my head. Irving Wolfe, the Republican candidate for New York governor, was the subject of my Dawn piece, even if I never mentioned him by name. His following is huge, and very, very dangerous. I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out the people who attacked the Dawn office are Wolfe supporters. Not one bit.
“Do you think it’ll all be over after the election?” I ask.
“You’re assuming he won’t win.”
I recoil. “Of course he won’t. Randy McAvoy is a much stronger candidate, with a proven track record of getting the job done. He’s more centrist than Democrat in his views, and as much as I personally don’t like that, I think, in this particular case, it’s a huge advantage.”
“I hope you’re right.”
She doesn’t sound too confident.
I sigh, my protective instincts desperate to wipe that frown off her face, but I know there’s nothing more I could say right now.
“There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about,” Evie says.
“What is it?”
“I had an appointment at the hospital yesterday.”
“And? Are you getting rid of the crutch soon?”
“Not yet. In fact, I’ll have to undergo another surgery.” There’s something about the way she says that, and the way her gaze shifts to a point above my shoulder that I know she’s hiding something.
“But I thought the previous surgery was the last. That’s what they told us.”
“One of the bones hasn’t healed correctly and has pushed the screw too far to the left, and now it’s sticking out of the bone.” She fumbles with her phone, pulls up a picture, and turns the screen so that I can see better.
It’s an x-ray of her knee, and it shows a huge metal screw sticking out from the bone in what looks like a very painful way.
“Fuck, Evie,” I say, my eyes getting drawn to her knee. I can’t see anything through her jeans, obviously, but I shudder at the thought of what was beneath her skin. “Does it hurt?”
“Yeah,” she says, hesitating. Seeing the expression on my face, she quickly adds, “Not too much. But it’s bothering me. And in order for the bone to heal properly, it needs to be removed.”
I groan in frustration. The recovery period after every surgery is long and painful. She’ll have to use a wheelchair again, for at least a couple of weeks, and she’ll have to take medication which makes her feel loopy, and—
“Zach.” Her soft voice halts my thoughts. “It’s okay.”
The simple phrase, the three words people use in so many situations where it isn’t, in fact, okay, sends me over the edge.