CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Dario
I wake,the twittering of birds outside my window telling me it’s early morning. I need to get up and get moving if I want to catch fish for today. I roll over and fling my arm on the bed, but only feel pillows. There’s an ache in my arms and along my neck, and my body feels strangely tingly and lethargic. I try to open my eyes, but they’re heavy as if I’ve been drugged.
What the hell?
With effort, I finally open my eyes and look around me. My heart sinks, as it all comes flooding back to me.
We’re not in the cabin anymore. The last thing I remember… I was attacked, bitten by a coyote. Vivia helped me by getting my gun and beating it off me. She… bandaged my wounds.
Did she call for help? How would she?
“Hello?” My lips are thick, my mouth dry. Jesus, what the hell happened to me? Where am I? I look around the room but no one’s there.
“Vivia?” I whisper. There’s no response.
I look out at the open window before me and see something I recognize. Crashing waves, water lapping at the shore…
I sit up, ignoring the pain that ricochets through my nerves like a ringing bell.
I’m at The Castle. I’m home.
If they found Vivia—
I throw off the covers and pat my body, looking for a weapon.
“Jesus, take it easy, brother.”
The door flings open, and Romeo strides in.
“Where is she?” I ask. He doesn’t need me to tell him who “she” is.
“Lay down, Dario. You’re not ready to get up out of that bed.”
Like hell I’m not. If they found her, if they hurt her—
“Lay. Down,” he repeats, no longer friendly but my Don.
I have no choice but to obey. I lay back. “Tell me, Rome. What happened?”
He folds himself on a chair by my bed as Orlando walks into the room, sees I’m awake, and shuts the door firmly behind him. I watch as he spins the lock to the locked position, and when he turns to me, he puts his finger to his lips. “Shh,” he whispers. “They’re all here.”
Romeo looks up at him and doesn’t respond. Orlando sits on a chair next to Romeo.
“Why don’t you fill him in,” Romeo says, nodding to Orlando. Romeo, the eldest brother and leader of the Rossi family, dresses like he’s about to dine at Boston’s finest. He rarely raises his voice and leads with quiet confidence. His blue eyes are fixated on Orlando, who looks at me.
“How are you feeling?”
“I feel like shit, but I don’t care about that right now,” I tell him impatiently. “I wanna know—”
“Where Vivia is,” he finishes. “I know, but you were pretty bad off, brother.”
“And I want to know how you are, too,” Romeo says seriously. I blow out a breath. Fine, then, we’ll play it that way.
“I’m fine, I think. Head hurts, my body feels weirdly drugged and sluggish, but I think I’m alright. What the hell happened?”
“Patience,” Orlando says, clucking his tongue. I’m about ready to come up out of this bed and strangle him. He must see I’m not fucking around, because he holds up his hand in surrender and chuckles. “Alright, alright. Easy, Dar. I’ll tell you everything.” He raises his eyebrows. “And fast, okay?”