Page 100 of Meet Me in Montreal

“I put Zoe down briefly, on the grass outside. I came back for you and Vanessa. You were…” Bobby swallowed again, horror still fresh and flickering in his eyes.

“What did you see?” Santino placed his hands on his thighs, waiting for the accusation, the disgust.

For the first time he noticed flecks of crimson on them, and yes, that smear on his shirt seemed so bright in this clear light, so red on the bottom of his jeans and his boots...

Fuck it. It was what it was.

He’d take the fall for what he’d done if it came to that. Because he’d made a vow to protect his wife. And a vow once made could not — would not ever be broken.

“I saw you save my sister from a fire. And that’s all.”

Bobby looked at him seriously, the horror submerging under a deep gratitude, a fresh sorrow. But there was also a silent understanding that the bond they shared had just deepened. A bond that had been formed through kinship, then friendship, but had now been sealed in crimson.

“Go home. Change. Then come right back. I’ll be here.”

Santino was going to refuse, but the stare in Bobby’s eyes turned hard.

“Go. Now.”

So he did, calling Dom on the way. He managed to relay the basics of what happened. Then he asked him to come get his car and go check to see if he could find the attacker’s vehicle anywhere near the house, hopefully before the cops could.

“We need to figure out who he was and who sent him, now,” Santino uttered, his fingers clenched on the phone.

“Just take care of your woman right now. We’ll find those motherfuckers.” Dom hung up without another word.

By the time he returned to the hospital, the police were there, taking Bobby’s statement. They questioned him as well. Bobby had apparently already told them that they’d played racquetball together earlier that afternoon and were planning to meet at Vanessa’s with their wives when they saw the smoke and realized the house was on fire.

Santino told them his wife had been under attack by a stranger; she’d fought back and so had he. Self-defense.

The cop who’d led the questioning was Detective Castillo. Santino had had a beer with him too a few times. Castillo said it seemed clear cut to him. Next step was identifying the assailant, most likely some asshole looking to rob the house. They’d let them know what they discovered.

After that was over, the nurse told him Vanessa was in a room and had indeed suffered smoke inhalation. Relief nearly turned his legs to jelly when the attending physician came out and assured him Vanessa would more than likely be fine. Apparently, they were all friends with Bobby.

“Bobby said he’s not sure how long your wives were inside with the fire going, but just to be on the safe side, we’re going to keep them for a few days or so to watch out for any developmentof serious lung injury. They’ve both had chest and head X-rays due to the head trauma. Zoe may need more recovery time since she was hit hard enough to go unconscious.”

“Thanks, Sammy.” Bobby gestured to the area beyond the doors. “Can we see them?”

“Of course,” she answered with a warm smile. “Just ask Bernice, and she’ll take you to them.”

Santino was grateful Vanessa had been placed in a separate room from Zoe. He hadn’t wanted to see her ever again before this and he damn sure didn’t now. She was Bobby’s burden to bear, or not.

Vanessa was asleep when he entered her room, having been sedated for one of the more intrusive exams they’d done. He’d turned down a request to check him for smoke in his lungs, but now he wondered if the searing pain in his chest as he looked at her fragile form in that bed was due to the fire after all.

Santino pulled up a chair, wanting to climb onto the bed and hold her, breath in her scent now that the smoke and ash had been washed off her, assure himself she was really okay but he didn’t. He couldn’t disturb the various wires and softly beeping monitors attached to her soft skin, or the tubing that was in her mouth and throat.

“Hey,tesoro, it’s me, yourtigre. What was all that about you in a house fire? I turn my back for five minutes and look what happens. You really are trying hard to get away from me, huh?”

It was a joke, but one that hurt when it was spoken. As his vision doubled, then trebled, he knew what lay inside him was damaged but not by smoke. It was this, all of this. All this unhappiness and the obsessions that were fueled by it. Would Zoe have set the house on fire if the blow up in Montreal hadn’t happened? Would Vanessa have been happier if he’d left her the fuck alone the first time she’d asked him to, three years ago?

He looked at his hand, the one that was wrapped around hers on the bed. Looked at the crisp, clean sheets he was dirtying by touching them, even though he’d washed his hands of the soot and the blood. The stain of what he’d done wasn’t ever going to wash off.

But he’d done it for all the best reasons. That reason was lying here. Maybe still in some danger health wise but safe. That would have to be enough.

“I saw what you did to that guy before I got there. Looked like his head was bashed in. You put a real hurtin’ on that motherfucker. Good for you, baby. Good for you. See. I told you you were a superhero.”

A smile pulled at his lips. He’d known his woman was tough, but that had surprised him. Made him proud of her anew. But…she wasn’t his woman anymore. And now that she was safe, she didn’t need him, for anything. Didn’t need him watching over her, obsessing over her. Blocking whatever fresh blessings were coming her way now that everything that had been holding her down was in ashes.

Now it was his turn.

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