“Understand him? How am I supposed to do that? He wanted me dead, Morte. What kind of a parent does that?”
He touches his fingers to both temples, massaging in small, purposeful circles as if our conversation gives him a headache. “Frankie was somewhat crazy all his life, but it got worse after we killed Dino. In a way, you did him a favor when you killed him. It’s such a pity you need to die too.”
“Frank deserved what he got. You knew him. You know what he was like. When Dino died, nothing mattered more than revenge. He was obsessed. He controlled my life for years before telling me I was supposed to be the bait for Dante. I killed him because Dante gave me all I needed and could’ve ever wanted. Everything I never had. And he didn’t expect a goddamn thing in return. Unlike Frank.”
“Dante got a wee bit irritated when he found out you were conspiring with Frank, didn’t he?” Morte sits up, straightening his spine. The crinkles around his eyes betray excitement.
I think he wants all the inside information he can get, but I’m not about to relay the worst night of my life for his entertainment. I clench my teeth, refusing to cooperate.
A scowl blooms on his face, but a manic smile covers it up fast. “You said you’re nothing to Dante now, right? So, tell me... why did he set a whole army of pawns on their toes to find you? He’s nobody without you, Imp, and he knows it.”
The damn heart monitor speeds up once more, but this time, my pulse thuds in my ears loud and clear, partially drowning out the background noise. Dante’s looking for me. “He wants to kill me,” I whisper, not ready to let my mind wander too far. Not ready to allow hope to break the dam I’ve built for the last thirteen days.
“He wants toprotectyou, Layla. He’s bent over backward, pulled in very expensive favors, and started calling off hitmen yesterday when he found out about the hit.”
A tiny flame of hope flickers in my heart, burning shyly as Morte’s words sink into the deepest, most vulnerable parts of my psyche, filling the holes in my heart, gluing it back together.The flame morphs into a blazing inferno, burning my fear to the ground. Panic recedes, and real, intense relief rattles every cell in my body. This time, it’s here to stay.
He wants to protect me. Hecares.
Morte inhales a deep breath, eyes full of pity. “I hope whoever kills you does it quickly, painlessly. You don’t deserve to suffer, Imp.” He leans over to kiss my forehead and winks before leaving the room in a hurry like an unwanted stranger.
I struggle to make sense of my life, staring at the closed door. I’m nineteen, for crying out loud. This isn’t the time to die. This is the time to find happiness, have fun, and live the way I’ll never live again. This is the time to stay up with friends, drink, and make silly mistakes. The time to fall in love every Friday evening and forget about the guy by Sunday afternoon. Instead, I wait for death, madly, irresponsibly in love with the one man I want to love until the end of time. Not long ago, I thought the end of my life was somewhere in the distant future, but now my end looms around the corner.
I jump out of bed, adrenaline jarring my limbs, zap after zap, that pushes me to act. I tear the cannulas out of my arms. The sudden injection of raw vitality helps my legs hold me upright when a few drops of blood splatter on the bed.
Dante’s looking for me.
He doesn’t want to kill me.
I need to get back to Chicago.
The door opens slowly again, stopping me dead in place. This time, it is a doctor who walks in, a white lab coat on his back. He frowns, taking in my state and the warm blood trickling down my arms from the torn cannulas. Maybe it wouldn’t be as ghastly if I took more care. My heart beats out of my chest at the thought, but I transform fear into strength.
“Layla, you need to lie down,” he says, striding closer, his hands outstretched far to the sides. Either he attempts to block the way out or readies himself to catch me. “You shouldn’t be on your feet for a while.”
“I need to see my cousin. She was in the car with me.”
He takes two steps forward and grabs me gently by the shoulder. “You can’t leave this room. Get back to bed.”
Does he really think he can keep me here? I just found out there’s a bounty on my head, and the one person who can keep me safewantstodo so. No one can keep me here. I need to grab Jean, Tayler, and Rick and head for Chicago right now.
In an electrified haze, I scan the room, an abstract plan at the back of my mind. A metal tray sits on the table nearby, beckoning me to use it. I don’t stop to consider my predicament, the hospital gown on my back, or that I can barely stand on my own two feet.
Dante is all I can focus on.
I grab the tray, swing at the doctor, and ram him over the head. He goes down, swearing under his breath. By the time he scrambles to his feet, I’m on the run, darting barefoot down a bright, empty corridor. I pass doors left and right, aiming for those at the far end. Again, I failed to take a second and reallythink. I have no idea where I’m going or where Jean might be, but sheer willpower spurs me on.
The double door in front of me swings open. A tall man marches through them, a dozen or so others hot on his tail. His eyes widen when he sees me charging straight at him. I’m no more than ten feet away, too close to apply the brakes. All the man has time to do is open his arms before I ram hard into his chest, almost knocking us both off our feet. Shooting pain jabs my thigh and shoulder, knocking me out of breath.
“Whoa, where do you think you’re going, little birdy?” He pushes me away, his hands cupping my shoulders in a tender but firm hold.
“Let go of me!” I claw at his arms to wriggle out of his grip, but despite only holding me by the shoulders, my efforts are pointless.
“I don’t think so,” He looks over my shoulder with a deep, dissatisfied frown. “What the fuck, Mark? She’s not supposed to leave the room.”
I turn to see the doctor in the doorway of my room, massaging a sore spot on the side of his head. “I couldn’t stop her. She whacked me with a tray.”
A murmur of laughter cuts the air. The man in front of me smiles, teeth and all. “Good job, birdy, but I’m afraid you can’t leave. Go back to bed. And you better not run again, or I’ll have to cuff you until Dante gets here.”