Words pile up on my tongue, pushing and shoving at one another to shoot past my lips. I mull over my response just as Blake did his. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind for the past two weeks while my world slowly splintered around me. I ignored the consequences and victories brought on by Frank’s death. I didn’t assess how much power I hold now that he’s out of the way, no longer breathing down my neck. It would've occurred to me sooner if I hadn’t been preoccupied with Layla since that fateful night. More than half of the biggest bosses in the country now work with me or rely on my product. I’m where I’ve wanted to be for years. At the same time, I’d give it all up at the snap of my fingers to keep Layla safe.
“You have my word,” I say. The knot in my stomach that tied itself up when Spades said Layla’s in the hospital starts to come apart now. “Kill anyone who tries to see Layla. She’s your priority for the time being. I don’t care if it’s a nurse, someone claiming to be related to her, or the president trying to get in her room. No one gets through.”
A low satisfied chuckle is his first answer. “I’ve got just the guys to handle the job. My son will lead the team. Don’t worry, she’s safe here.”
A state of mind where I don’t worry about her no longer exists. I don’t think it existed since the day she entered Delta.
“I need someone on the inside. Have you got a trusted, reliable doctor at the University Hospital?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll send you the details. His name is Mark. A hundred grand will have him dancing to whatever tune you might want to play.”
“Thank you. Keep me updated. Anything happens, I want to know first.” I cut the call a touch lighter and calmer.
Rookie sits behind the wheel, relaxed and seemingly unaffected by the hundred and thirty miles an hour on the clock. Spades and Nate have a hard time keeping up while Cai and Jackson are no longer visible in the rearview mirror.
It’s not that they lack power under the hoods. Last week I swapped the three identical SRT8 Charges we had to Hellcats. We sit on the same horsepower, but neither Spades nor Cai can handle a car the way Rookie can; neither has the balls to watch the speed climb to the max. That’s precisely why Rookie’s by my side and not Spades. I want to get to Layla as soon as humanly possible. He can make that happen.
“That didn’t take much work.” With a sideways glance my way, he slams the gas, veering into the other lane to pass a truck that’s still miles away. “I expected more resistance.”
“So did I.”
I check the phone every three seconds, waiting for the doctor’s details. Two minutes later, I call Jackson, who’s on the passenger seat of the car with Cai at the wheel, ordering him to wire a hundred grand over to a Mark Johnson. Once the transfer is complete, I dial the number Blake sent.
“Hello?” He answers, the Texan accent ringing in my ears.
“Check your bank account.”
He doesn’t question me, which hints it’s not the first call he received with such an opener. Tapping on the keyboard sounds in the background for a few long seconds before he speaks. “I’m listening.” An unhealthy dose of excitement spiked with dread chimes in his voice.
Who wouldn’t sound excited after becoming one hundred grand richer in seconds?
Money cheers everyone up. It’s the bread and butter of our existence in this mundane, shitty world. The main thing people chase. The reason behind the most heinous crimes. Money is power. Whoever says otherwise is either stupid or never had the kind of money that lets you buy everything. Material and immaterial things. A yacht. Obedience. A penthouse in New York. Information.
Moneyispower. Kids are taught from a young age that money is a tool, a means to get by, pay the bills, and buy necessities. Kids are taught that love matters most. That being a decent human should take priority over everything else. One doesn’t rule out the other, though.
You don’t have to give up love to have money. Believing the blatant lie that you have to choose is an excuse not to get off your ass and earnmore.It’sthe mindset of those who don’t want to succeed. Those who are perfectly happy with mediocracy.
Thank God average folk exist, willingly living out their average lives, or else rich people wouldn’t be as rich.
Don’t get me wrong, loveisthe best thing that can happen to a person. The notion is now well and truly cemented in my very being since I got a taste of what true love feels like.
Yeah, love is the best, but try paying your bills with fucking hugs and see how that turns out.
I’d give up all my money if I had to choose between the millions in my bank and Layla.
Layla. Always Layla.
That doesn’t mean I’d sit back on my broke ass, basking in the questionable wonders of mediocracy. I’d make the money back fast because I don’tsettle for average.
“Layla Harston was admitted to your hospital an hour ago,” I say, watching the surroundings as they change from city streets to a quiet interstate.
“Yes, she was. I had Blake on the phone just now. You work fast, Dante. I haven’t seen Layla yet, but from what I gather, she was involved in a car crash.”
“Until I arrive at the hospital in ten hours, you’re the only person allowed to touch her. No nurses, no other doctors. Only you. She needs a change of dressing, you do it. She wants a glass of water, you get it. She wants anything at all, no matter how extraordinary her wish, you accommodate. The one thing you can’t allow is to let her leave the room. Understood?”
“Yes.” He clears his throat. Quiet scribbling in the background tells me he’s writing it all down. “Whatever she wants is hers as long as she stays in her room.”
“Put her in the most remote room you can think of. Don’t note the change in her file. Blake’s people are on their way as we speak to stand guard at her door. They have orders to kill anyone who isn’t you or me who tries to see her, and they will fucking do it, so you better make sure no hospital staff goes anywhere near the room.”