Page 50 of Enforcer

“You didn’t lose me. I’m right here,” I answer.

He wraps his massive arms around me and kisses my head.

“You need to stop fighting this and let me in.”

I nod against his warm chest, feeling the adrenaline leaving my body now that I know I’m safe.

I close my eyes and drink in the feeling, sleep nestling me in its arms as I hear Dante say, “I knew you were mine the moment I laid my eyes on you, Alyssa. I’ll fight the fucking world to remain beside you. I need you to get on the same page.”

I grin sleepily as I feel the heavy weight of exhaustion blanket me, knowing he’ll understand why I’ve fallen asleep instead of responding because that’s who Dante is.

He’s a good man.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

DANTE

Leaving Alyssa asleep in the apartment this morning was the single most gut-wrenching thing I’ve had to do. I’ve never wanted anything more than snuggling up beside her and letting the television we’d let ramble on all night lull me back to sleep.

Slate wants to know what’s going on with this shit at the docks, and I don’t blame him, especially not with how his parents died and especially not with his impending wedding. So, I’m sitting at the bedside as the surgeon prattles on about the man’s condition and his likelihood of waking as machines beep and swoosh around me.

“You weaned back the anesthetic this morning?” I ask him. I was too lost in thought to listen to him before, and his annoyance with me was evident on his face as he sighs.

“Yes. I expected him to wake before now, however. I think a scan of his brain to check for activity would be prudent at this stage.”

“Do you have that capability?” I ask him, scrubbing through my beard.

He looks over the man, running the scenarios through his head before he shakes his head. “No, we don’t. The sensitivity of the situation also warrants that we steer clear of mainstream hospitals.”

I nod in complete agreement with his words.

Fuck, this is so...fucked, for lack of a better term.

“So, in your opinion?” I ask him, hanging on the end of my words, hoping he’ll give me good news.

“In my honest medical opinion, based on the tests we can run, this man is brain dead.”

I sit back, closing my eyes and snarling. “Goddamnit!”

The doctor doesn’t bristle. He’s used to our bullshit and our attitudes.

“Once you hear how Mr. Ricci wants to proceed, let me know. Nurses will still care for him round the clock, per his orders. If there is any change, I’ll let you know immediately.”

I nod, pulling my phone from my pants pocket to call Slate.

“What?!” he whisper yells at me as he answers. “I’m busy.”

I grin. His whispering and tone of voice suggest that he’s with Brynne and not supposed to be on his phone.

“The surgeon says our last man standing is brain dead. Nurses will remain with him until you pull them back, but he wants your advisement on where to go from here.”

Silence ebbs on the other end of the phone, along with the low, slow beat of R&B music.

“Where are you?” I ask him, smiling as I scrub my face.

“That’s none of your damned business. Let me think it over for a bit. Keep nurses with him. Go back to the docks tonight and stake it out. See if there’s anything we missed or if anyone shows up.”

“Got it. I’ll keep you posted. Tell Brynne I said hi.”

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