Page 154 of Dangerous King
"That was the stupidest thing I've ever seen," he goes on, reaching for his suture kit. "And trust me, I've seena lotof stupid things from your husband and his merry band of trigger-happy jackals."
"Jackals?" I blink.
"That's me being polite," he mutters. "You think working with these guys for twenty years didn't teach me a thing or two?"
Enrico glares. "Now's not the time?—"
"Exactly," Doc snaps. "Which is why I insist we move this conversation to the hospital."
"That I cannot allow to happen," I cut in firmly, repeating the words like armor. "I'll go to the hospital, but only ifyougo find answers. You do what you're supposed to do. I'm not a mission, I'm yourwife. Go make sure we're safe."
Doc points at me with his gloved hand. "See? The bride's got more operational clarity than the rest of this damn crew."
Dante grins. "She's been hanging out with the jackals too long."
"Don't encourage her," Enrico snaps. But he's not angry. He's afraid. And I love him for it.
"Just stitch me up, please? I can go to the hospital later, but for now we need to…"
"Cat," Enrico's gaze levels me. My gaze doesn't flicker. I meet his head on.
"We're married, remember? In sickness and in health and… I guess during bombs. Now, if you won't stay here, have this man stitch me up and let's figure out what happened."
Pride reflects on his features. "I love you."
"I love you too, now?—"
He imperceptibly nods at the doc. I feel the small prick of a needle, and the world around me goes all fuzzy. They drugged me!
"Not fair…" I complain, feeling myself float against Enrico's chest.
I know Cat will give me hell later for this, but I'm not going to sit by while Doc stitches her up without anesthetic like a soldier on the battlefield. I can deal with her not going to the hospital, or I thought I could, at least, until Doc mumbles something about MRIs and cat scans to make sure she didn't hurt her head during the impact.
"Crazy Piccolina," I whisper in her ear as I pick her up to carry her to the Hummer.
"Is she okay?" Papa appears out of nowhere, looking a bit shellshocked, but no worse for the wear.
"I'm taking her to the hospital; she needs stitches and some scans," I fill him in. "Mamma?"
"She's fine, she's putting together a quick triage. Mattheo and Tommaso are by the gate, keeping the cops out. The official story is that it was a gas tank explosion."
"Good, I'll be back as soon as I can."
"We've got it. Stay with your wife." My father insists, placing his hand on my shoulder, leaning over, and giving my unconscious wife a quick peck on the forehead. "She's a trooper."
"Don't I know it." I agree, taking one last look at the carnage and making a beeline out of here.
The gate is under siege; there is no other word for it. The fire department is there, along with the police and reporters. I make out Mattheo speaking to the fire captain and probably the chief of police, but ignore them. Honking, I make my way through the throng, ready to bulldoze anyone and any vehicle in my way.
Every break, every swerve moves Cat's form in the seat next to me, which I reclined as much as it will go, and I curse the multitude of onlookers for the vultures they are.
After what seems like an eternity but, in reality, was only a fifteen-minute drive, I park right in front of the emergency room, leaving the Hummer running for whoever wants to park it, and carry Cat inside.
"Sir?" A security guard blocks my way, "You have to go?—"
I elbow him to the side, yelling, "I need a doctor."
"Sir, if you would please?—"
