Nodding, Tony patted the blond man on the back then jogged toward a set of double doors. The other guy was right. It was easy to find Scarlett Donati from her cries. The sounds would haunt me to my dying day. It was a mother’s grief, and it ate at something deep inside me.
A flashback of Zariah telling me that she’d wanted out of this life with her family, that she was constantly scared, filtered through my mind. But it was only in that moment that I truly understood why she wouldn’t want this lifestyle, why she was continuously scared. No amount of money in the world was worth this kind of gut-wrenching fear and pain.
Pushing open the door where those horrible sobs were coming from, Tony and I stepped into the room, closing the door behind us. On the bed, one of the twins I’d met at the gate the week before was stretched out. His shoulder was bandaged, but blood had already soaked through it, although it seemed to be drying, making me assume it had stopped bleeding. There were IVs in his other arm, putting fluids and blood back into him. His eyes were closed, and his skin looked gray.
In a chair beside the bed sat an older version of Zariah, her image in every way except her swollen, red-rimmed brown eyes. Scarlett Donati’s face was drenched in tears as her eldest daughter crouched in front of her, mopping her tears with tissues. “Mom, please,” Zariah rasped in a hoarse voice. “You’re making yourself ill. And Vito is in so much pain. Please. I’m begging you, try to calm down.”
“I-I c-c-can’t, Zariah,” she sobbed. “My b-b-b-babies… Where is Zayne?”
“I told you, Mom,” Zariah murmured soothingly. “He went with Papa to Ireland. He’s okay. I promise.”
“Bennie?”
“No news yet,” she said, her voice shaking. “It could take a little while before we hear anything.”
“Ciana?” There was such hope that my heart broke a little for the woman.
Zariah closed her eyes and shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks.
They had been so absorbed in talking about the other Donati children, neither of the women had noticed us entering the room. Vito opened his eyes suddenly, saw me standing there with Tony, and snorted. “Whatever meds they’re giving me, they ain’t doing shit for the pain, but they sure as fuck make me hallucinate. Hey, Z, is Nolan Krenshaw really standing there, or am I seeing things?”
Zariah snapped her head around at the sound of my name. Seeing me standing there, she blinked several times, trying to clear her vision of her tears. “N-Nolan?” she whispered, slowly straightening.
“Tell me you’re okay, Red,” I commanded through a tight throat. “Tell me you are unhurt.”
She nodded. “I-I’m fine. But why are you here?”
“Heard a few things on the news. You should have told me,” I gently scolded as I opened my arms.
Her slight weight hit me as she threw herself against me, and it was only then that I was able to take a deep breath. Relief nearly buckled my knees. She was safe. She was unhurt. She was in my arms.
“You’re here,” she sobbed, the sounds just as heartbreaking as the ones her mother was continuing to make. “I-I must be dreaming.”
“No, baby.” With one arm wrapped around her small waist, I cupped the back of her head with my other hand, silently vowing never to let her go again, and kissed her hair. “As soon as I found out about your sister, I got in a car and started driving. Nearly had a heart attack when I got to the Vitucci compound, but lucky for me, Tony was there and was able to bring me to you.”
“But…” She shook her head as she tipped it back, causing my fingers to tangle in her hair, her tears still flowing freely down her cheeks. “You have a game today. You’re supposed to pitch.”
“Fuck the game,” I told her vehemently. “You need me, Red. If I’d known what was going on, I would have been back here Friday night.”
“I-I didn’t want to bother you,” she whispered, her chin quivering.
“You didn’t think I would pick you,” I corrected her, and she pressed her lips together, confirming my suspension. Sighing, I tucked her head under my chin and tightened my arms around her. “I’m here now, baby, and I’m not going anywhere.”