Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 185785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
“You hurt?”
She shakes her head. “Nobody hurt me. The one guy just held me back. How are you feeling?” She cups my cheek with her palm. I lean in and sigh.
“Like somebody hit me in the back of the head with a shovel and like three guys took the boots to me.”
Her face crumples and she’s crying.
“Hey,” I call out, rubbing the back of her hand with my thumb. “I’m all right.”
“I was so scared.”
“I’m okay,” I assure, kissing her palm. “What happened then?”
“Um…” She stretches to grab a Kleenex from a table and dabs at her eyes and nose with it. “The ambulance took you and your driver brought me here, stayed outside the door until your brother got here. He phoned your brother and he came right over. I gave a statement to the police. They said they’ll come back this morning to see if you’re awake to ask you some questions. Tony came, from your club. He’s outside right now and Will and another guy are in the cafeteria meeting with someone. I think Will said his name was Rossi. I have your phone, wallet and keys in my purse.”
A nurse pokes her head in. “Ah. Sleeping beauty awakens,” she says with a smile, approaching the bed.
61
Violet
We’re back at Killian’s place and I’m carrying a tray holding a bowl of chicken and rice soup, a single-serving bottle of ginger ale, and a grilled cheese and tomato sandwich. He’s talking on his phone, but eyes me with a very serious expression as I approach.
“Yeah, we’ll talk then. Thanks. Bye.” He puts the phone down and warmth floods his expression as I set the tray on the nightstand.
“Try to eat a little?” I suggest.
“Yeah, okay.” He lifts the sandwich and takes a bite.
His jaw is swollen, he’s got a goose egg on the back of his head, and his torso and legs are bruised from the kicking, but all in all, his injuries aren’t too terrible, considering how badly it could’ve gone. Though of course, I’m still shook by how terrifying it all was.
I was there when he gave his statement to the police, stating he didn’t remember anything, before he was sent for some scans at the hospital, then discharged.
“Any idea who it was yet?” I ask, sitting on the edge of the bed.
He finishes chewing and swallows before answering. “It’s being looked into. Cops are checking camera surveillance in the area.”
“Was that the police on the phone?” I ask, passing him the ginger ale bottle with the straw in it. He leans over and sips it and then puts his head back on the pillow, shaking his head as I set the drink down on the table beside him.
“That was Tommy. My guys are looking into it, so are his. There’s a possibility it has nothing to do with me.” He winces and gets more comfortable.
I caress his arm. “Want some pain medication? You’re allowed to have some now.”
He shakes his head. “No. Hate that shit.”
I tilt my head curiously. “So, nothing to do with you? It didn’t seem random.”
It seemed highly personal to me the way they kicked him over and over.
“There’s a guy that’s being a thorn in the side of Dario’s family because of stuff that has nothing to do with me. Remember the asshole in Genesis that made a scene the night I first took you there?”
I nod.
“Think it’s the same guy. Sounds like he has old intel, thinks I’m still affiliated. Their family were my original investors, but I bought them out. This guy’s goin’ around to anybody affiliated with them and making their lives difficult. He’s making a point.”
“Oh?”
“Or, I wasn’t the target and they mistook me for Tommy Ferrano. We’re not sure which.”
Tommy Ferrano, Dario’s brother, is tall and dark haired like Killian. His wife is dark haired, though her hair isn’t as dark as mine and hers is straight where mine isn’t. Is it possible it was a case of mistaken identity?
“Not a hundred percent, but it’s a good chance it’s who they think it is and if that’s the case, it’s not mine to deal with, though that chaps my ass.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if it’s their issue, they’ll deal. I don’t like letting other people deal with my problems, but if it was a case of bad intel or mistaken identity, they’ll want to deal with it themselves.”
“What about the police?”
He looks at me in a way that I instantly know comes from him thinking I’m naïve. And I guess I am, because to me, you let the cops deal with stuff. That’s what you’re supposed to do, anyway.
“The police aren’t likely to figure any of this out before the Ferrano family does. They’re well-connected and the cops tend to stay out of their way unless it’s something they really have to wade into. If this situation is what it’s looking like, it’s theirs to deal with and the Ferrano family will deal with it.”