Page 78 of The Woman in the Garage

Then there was Lucky himself delivering.

“This was on my way ho—the fuck?” he cut off as Dasha leaned up to look over the back of the couch when she heard more voices.

“Dom’ll explain,” I said, waving him back to the kitchen. “Sorry, sweetheart. I wasn’t expecting any company.”

“It’s okay. It’s kind of sweet that your family pops over.”

“Did you drift off?” I asked, brushing her damp hair behind her ear.

“Maybe for a second.” She started to throw off her covers.

“You can stay. I can bring you your food.”

“No, your couch is new,” she said. “And I think this blanket must have cost more than my car.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I insisted. “What do you want to drink? I’ve got soda, water, wine, some harder stuff…”

“I wouldn’t turn down a glass of wine.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

“Santo, the fuck?” Lucky asked when I walked into the kitchen to find that Dom had already started to portion out the food.

“I’m working on it.”

“And you’re gonna fill Luca in.”

“Yes,” I said, nodding. “This alljusthappened. I’m focusing on trying to get Dasha taken care of. I will make all the appropriate calls once she’s settled.”

To that, Lucky nodded. “You need anything for her? Meds? Want me to call Lettie to look her over?”

Our cousin Lettie was the Family’s medical professional. She had her own ambulance, team, office, and everything.

“I checked her over. It looks worse than it is. Mostly just bruising and scrapes. She hit her head but not hard.”

“Maybe a house call tomorrow? Just to make sure?” Lucky suggested.

“Maybe. I’ll ask Dasha. After she’s gotten some sleep.”

“Alright. I’ll tell Lettie to check in and see. If you need anything on this, let me know.”

“Wait, let me pay you for the food,” I called as he made his way toward the back door.

“Nah. Take care of your girl,” he said, then he was gone.

When I turned back, I found Dom had made plates for all three of us and even popped a cork on a bottle of red.

“I’ll eat in here,” he offered as I collected Dasha’s wine and plate.

But once Dasha realized Dom had relegated himself to the kitchen, she demanded he join us in the living room. Even though it meant he had to bring in a dining chair and stack several boxes on top of each other to use as a table.

We ate together and watched some old sitcom reruns. And by the time I got the dishwasher emptied out and loaded again, Dasha was curled up and out cold on the couch.

So I made my call to Luca, who demanded I bring in Dante on the job so he could keep an eye on Domenico, who was still a bit of a loose cannon.

As Dasha rested, my brother, cousin, and I all worked on a plan for the shop that involved them going in early, cleaning up any blood or mess, then waiting until work hours to install the cameras. Under ‘orders from the boss.’ Dante even drew up some paperwork that I could have Dasha sign, in case there were any questions.

They would also try to get a look at the employees, see if anyone was walking funny or had scratches on their hands, or if they were acting strange or asking too many questions.

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