Page 141 of Broken Blood Ties

I freeze, clutching those words.She’s fine, she’s fine.

Sinking back into the uncomfortable bed, I stare at him, trying to not let the exhale I make tremble too much. Safe. Fine.

“Tell me,” I demand.

* * *

I blink. Unbelief has a way of rendering me stupid, and I can’t help but bask in the story Cormac just told me. Summer’s deal with Marco—I should be mad … furious even. And I’d be lying if my hand didn’t twitch with thoughts of us in the bedroom—yes, I’d punish her that way.

But for the first time since I woke up yesterday, my lungs are full and my chest swells with the notion that Summer kicked ass.

But … she must be struggling. I’m sure she is. She shot her father. Cormac told me reports said he was barely alive when he was dragged out by Marco and his men, but then again, it was said two days later he passed. She’s responsible, and I can’t help the awe beaming inside me at her choice to defend us. Me. The Irish.

A satisfied smile creeps over my face and Cormac returns it. “Ye’re a lucky man, O’Donnell. She’s been beside herself the past six days. Came into the hospital a blubbering mess with Finn while ye were in surgery and refused to leave. We had to drag her back to the house and tell her she couldn’t come back until she’d showered, changed, and got something to eat. She’s FaceTimed with Allie and Aoife every day, giving them updates.”

I shake my head, then reach for the water the nurse brought in while Cormac was filling me in. “And Riku?”

“Marco said the Cosa Nostra would handle him before his group went back to New York. Even Callum is running scared. And, get this, Luka called several times to check in on how ye’re doing and happened to mention the alliance between the Cosa Nostra and Bratva has been dissolved.”

I sit up straighter, fighting the urge to rub the bandages over my set nose. “What?”

He nods. “Apparently, since the alliance was made with Salvatore who is no longer the boss—add in the fact Marco’s always been opposed to the idea, they both agreed. It was dissolved yesterday in peace. Both organizations will be operating out of New York.”

I snort. “Started with the oldest Buscetta and ended with the youngest.”

Glancing around the room, the curtains are drawn shut, but it doesn’t stop the gray daylight from floating in. Cormac is in the lone chair, and I look for evidence that Summer may be here but see none.

“She was here. We were caught in the rain and ended up soaked, her more than me. Finn took her, though she was reluctant, back to the house to change. Should be back any minute.” He smirks at me, knowing all too well what I was searching for.

The nurse and doctor come in to check my chest wound and explain how lucky I was.

The bullet missed my heart, a through and through right below my shoulder. And although I lost a lot of blood, they only had to repair minor damage and have given me six to eight weeks of recovery. My broken nose is already looking better, apparently when I came in the purple and red bruising spread over my nose, under both cheeks, and around up to my temples. During surgery, they fixed the deviated septum and have given me around a three-week recovery for that.

“Lucky,” Cormac had said again before leaving to hunt for some food.

They’d brought me some baked chicken with a side of mashed potatoes that taste like sewer water, and green beans that weren’t cooked. Even the prepacked Jell-O has seen better days. You’d think with the private wing Cormac secured for recovery, we could manipulate some better food, but no. I’m seriously contemplating calling the chef from O’Brien’s.

Not that I could eat much anyway. Hospitals make me sick. It’s the antiseptic chemicals that smell like they’re only a beat away from cleaning up death.

I fumble for the hospital tray I shoved out of the way to gather my phone and dial Allie.

“Hello?” Allie answers, and I detect the hint of confusion in her voice.

“It’s me.”

“Oh, Mr. O’Donnell! We were so worried.”

“Daddy? Is that Daddy?” Aoife shrieks in the background.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Mr. O’Donnell. Let me put Aoife on before she climbs me like a tree for the phone.”

I chuckle.

“Daddy?” Aoife says.

I sigh hearing her voice. If anything would’ve happened to her … I don’t know how I’d survive. “Hi, little love. I love ye. Do ye know that?”

She giggles. “I know. I love you, too. Nanny Allie said you are hurt. Are you going to be okay?”