“She’ll never be safe anywhere,” I muttered as the nurse blocking my way turned and rushed into the room.
Refusing to move from my spot, I looked at Sal and said, “Call the family. I want a full detail here within the hour. I want this place secured. I mean it, Sal. Do what you must, but no one sees her unless they are investigated and verified. Fail me, and I won’t hesitate to kill.”
“Yes, Giovanni,” Sal said and immediately left.
“Dwayne, tell me that fucker is dead.”
“You emptied both clips into him, Gio. That’s twenty-four bullets. He’s dead. If by some miracle he survived that, I can assure you he didn’t survive the tanker explosion. Diablo is dead.”
“I need you to verify that. Can you do it?”
Sighing, he nodded. “Yeah, I can, but it’s going to take time. Emergency services are all over the docks. It’s a logistical nightmare down there.”
“Just do it. Please.”
My cousin gripped my shoulder and left. I knew he wouldn’t return until he knew Diablo was indeed dead. I wasn’t leaving anything to chance where Layla was concerned. When she woke, I wanted to tell her that her nightmare was finally over. That her biological sperm donor was really dead. I wanted to give her proof. I didn’t care what it was, but I wanted to provide her with that.
Standing there in the hallway, waiting for any word, was pure torture. I could hear her moans as the doctors and nurses tried valiantly to do their job and ease her suffering. Her beautiful face was black and blue, and I knew there was bone damage. What she endured while she was in their clutches would give me nightmares for the rest of my life.
There was nothing I could do to ease her suffering, and all I could provide was doctors who I prayed gave her something for the pain soon.
Leaning against the wall, I watched as doctors and nurses went about their day, trying to save those they could, help ease the suffering of many and tell loved ones that a family member had died. It was an honorable profession, one I admired. Yet, what I wanted most was for someone to come out of that room and talk to me.
Was that so hard?
Slowly sliding to the floor, I hung my head as I waited for any news.
“You better not fuck up next time,” a very familiar gravelly voice said, making me turn. Seeing a pair of black leather biker boots, my eyes trailed up, seeing dark denim jeans, a blue flannel long sleeve shirt with a black t-shirt underneath. Reaching his face, I noticed the beginnings of a beard, strong jawline, and distinct nose, but I stopped when I landed on his eyes. A pair of angry green eyes glared back at me. Getting to my feet, I didn’t need an introduction to know who was standing before me.
Dylan was a few inches taller than I was, but we both were built and filled out our clothes well. I could see the pain in his eyes and contributed that to the loss of his wife and the recent surgery he endured. I wanted to help him, but I knew he would never accept anything from me. The man was nothing like I suspected. He looked more like an average man than a biker, and he wasn’t even wearing his cut. For all intent and purposes, he was just an average man, but it was the sorrow, the agony in his eyes, that let me know he’d been through too much.
“You killed Jekyll.”
He looked away and softly said, “Fucker had it coming.”
“Do you want to see her?”
“No. I need to get going.”
“Is there anything you want me to tell her?”
“Yeah,” Bullseye said, looking directly into my eyes as he reached for my hand and placed something cold in it. “Tell her to listen for the whistle if you ever fail to protect her again.”
Looking down, I saw a long brass bullet, and my name, Giovanni Valentinetti, was engraved on it. When I snapped my head back up, he was gone.
Searching for him, I couldn’t find him in all the chaos of the hospital. I knew I wouldn’t.
He was gone.
He said what he needed to and left.
There were not many people on this planet that scared me. Though I wouldn’t say I was scared, more cautious than anything, there was just something about Dylan Franks that had my guard up. Finally meeting Layla’s brother, I knew from others, he was one man I never wanted to cross because when he dealt out justice, it was final.
“Sir?” a woman said, gaining my attention. Quickly placing the bullet in my pocket, I looked at her and waited.
“We are taking your fiancé to X-Ray. She has multiple bruises across her torso and face, and the doctor is worried about her cheekbone. He believes it’s broken.”
“Was she?” I started to ask but couldn’t get the words out. I didn’t want to think of it happening to her again. I couldn’t.