Page 16 of One Last Verse

“Really? Since when does it take thirty minutes to brew a new pot?” I said in a low voice and pulled him away from the register. “Frank is out of surgery.”

The cafeteria was empty, not counting the cashier and the security guard at the door who’d been following me all night. Probably because Brooklyn had told him to. He did keep his distance, which I appreciated.

“Any news?” Dante sniffed and palmed his head. His eyes, blood red and wide, stared me down for a long moment.

It hit me then. I almost didn’t want to believe my discovery, but the signs were all there. Come to think of it, he’d been like a cat on a hot tin roof all night. Especially in the car with his diarrhea of secrets. “Are you high?”

Ignoring my question, Dante turned to the cashier and yelled, “Make it six, darlin’! And throw in a couple of breakfast sandwiches too.”

Talk about acting weird. I’d never seen the man lift a finger to do anything except for playing his guitar.

“Hey!” I called. “Did you hear me?”

He returned his scattered attention to me. We shared a glance for only a second.

“Answer me,” I gritted out. “Are you high?”

“Are you my therapist now?”

“Oh my fucking God.” My voice was a hiss. Wrath pulled at my chest. “You are high, aren’t you?”

The cashier was packing our breakfast. The rustle of Styrofoam filled the cafeteria.

Dante’s lack of response angered me. I slapped his arm to get him to say something. “Was he high too? Did you give him something?”

“Keep your fucking hands off me.” He jerked his shoulder in a particularly childish manner.

Rage blinded me. Horrified, I hit him in the chest with my purse. “Is that how you look out for him, you asshole?”

The corner of the blanket fell to the floor and my heel tangled in it as I tried to stumble my way out of the cafeteria. Tears pricked my eyes for the second time tonight. I held them in, but I hated all these emotions fighting for room within me. There was a reason why I’d never gotten so involved with a man. Men were trouble. Men ruined the balance. Frank was the worst. He’d destroyed my perfectly normal life.

I didn’t know where to go to be alone except the restroom. While I understood why the floor was packed with security, the fact that someone was shadowing me at all times felt a lot like an invasion of privacy. I didn’t want some stranger to watch me having a meltdown.

Hours went by. The doctor let Janet and Billy see Frank at around four in the morning. I waited patiently and watched more people trickle in. Some wore suits, some wore casual attire. Dressed sharply but looking tired, Linda showed up at dawn.

“Have you seen him yet?” she asked as we settled in the corner, away from the eyes and ears of others.

“They’re not letting me. Only immediate family for now.”

“Then you should go home and get some sleep, hon.”

“I will. After I make sure he’s okay.” He wasn’t okay, though. I knew it.

Linda reached to pat my knee. “It’s best if you leave now, Cassy. Trust me.”

“Are there a lot of people outside?”

She nodded.

“What’s next?”

“I need to see what the doctors say before I can assess the damage.”

Damage. It was a word I’d come to hate lately. I breathed in hard and stretched my stiff neck.

“If someone sees you here looking like this, you’ll be all over the internet,” Linda urged.

“What, you don’t like my poncho?” I joked.

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