Page 61 of Cruel Devil

“Yes, that’s it. Where can I find it?” But Andy’s already looking around, not even bothering to wait for her mother’s response.

“I think…” Viv points to the night stand. Andy glances at her, then ducks behind it.

She pulls out a bulging EMT duffel with at least three pockets on the outside that I can see. She hastily zips it open and rummages inside, coming out with a stethoscope. Nudging Viv aside with her elbow, she slips the business end of the device under Bryan’s monogrammed silk pajamas, near his heart.

I glance at my phone. I guess she’s not standing over Savage’s father with a fucking knife, but this isn’t protocol. Viv’s cleared to be this close to the capo of the Domingo cartel solely because she’s fucking him. I think at least a handful of us are silently praying her presence will rouse more than his dick, getting him back on his feet before he kicks the bucket and leaves the cartel in shambles.

Savage hasn’t responded to my message.

Probably too busy rutting Nyx. He tends to do that when they’ve been separated for long periods of time, like more than ten seconds.

“Jesus,” I mutter, shoving my phone back in my pocket. “Hey, how about we step away from the fragile old man and have a chat, me and you?” I call over to Andy.

She throws me a righteous glare over her shoulder, her finger at her lips to shush me.

I hold up my hands in surrender. “Yeah, alright, fuck.”

Viv steps back, her hands clasped in front of her chest like she’s praying as she glances back at me with watery eyes. “Let her be, Toto, dear. She’s so good at her job.”

“Which is what exactly?” Andy said Doc had a job for her, but I don’t recall torturing that info out of her with my flogger.

Viv widens her eyes at me almost comically. They’re plastered in makeup, slightly smeared from her nap, but why the fuck bother when it’s obvious Bryan isn’t taking notes?

“She’s a nurse, honey.”

“Right.” I cross my arms over my chest, studying Andy as she moves the stethoscope around Bryan’s chest, trying to, I don’t know, find a better angle to listen to his heart or whatever. “She go to school and stuff?”

Viv let’s out such a world weary sigh, I immediately regret asking.

“Jesus, nevermind.”

She shakes her head, then grabs my hands in a rattle of gold bangles before I lurch out of reach. “It’s a long story, Toto.” She pats my hand. “You take me out for sushi one day, we’ll talk.”

I grit my teeth, but it’s useless telling Viv not to use nicknames on people. She stops for like one day and then starts up again, sometimes with a different, even more humiliating nickname, as if to punish you for objecting in the first place. Learned that lesson the hard way. She used to call me Vee. Now all I think about when she speaks to me is that scruffy little dog from the Wizard of Oz movie.

Exasperated, I look over at Andy. She has Bryan’s wrist in her hand, her phone in the other. She gently sets his arm down and turns to look at us, throwing the stethoscope’s tube over her neck like a fucking doctor.

“What the hell is he still doing here?” she says, not even bothering to lower her voice. “This man needs to be in ICU.”

Viv claps her hand over her mouth, but just as quickly pulls it away.

“You know it doesn’t work like that, baby. They’ll kill him, or arrest him.”

“He’s dying either way. At least he stands a chance in the hospital.”

My curiosity is flaring up again. “What’s wrong with him?”

Andy scoffs. “How the fuck should I know?”

I smirk at her, shaking my head. “Okay, playtime’s over. If you want to visit with your mom, it’s gonna have to be outside. He needs rest.”

“He needs like a bazillion blood tests and a ventilator,” she snaps, pulling her arm away before I can touch her. “His heart rate is forty-five, he’s barely fucking breathing, and unless he only got shot yesterday, that wound should be looking a hell of a lot better than it is.” She pulls her mouth to the side, eyes slitted. “If you want him to die, just put a bullet in his brain. It’ll be a lot faster.”

“Don’t say that, Andy!” Viv squawks, setting off a percussive riot with her bangles as she waves at her daughter like she’s shooing a fly. “He was getting proper care. Doc! The man you went to see. He was looking after my Bryan. Wonderful man, so knowledgeable.”

“Guess I dodged a bullet there, Mom. That guy doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing,” Andy says bitterly, throwing us both a backward glance as she storms for the door. “Your Bryan will be lucky if he makes it to next Tuesday.”

Chapter 20

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