Page 24 of Wounded King
"I'm sure Roberto is hitting Sophia."
Fuck!
I didn't see that coming. I probably should have. Roberto is an asshole. I would have never allowed this marriage to take place, had I been here. But I was in Italy, and I wasn't even invited to the wedding. Rage slices through me. If that fucking coward really put his hands on my sister, I won't just kill him—I'll unmake him. Piece by piece. A man doesn't raise his hand to a woman, not in my family. Not ever.
There is no reason to ask Luciano if he's sure or how he knows. He wouldn't have said it if he weren't.
"As soon as I'm out, arrange for us to have a word with the slimy bastard."
"You got it, boss."
I've got almost an entire day off and have no idea what I'm going to do with it. Since I'm this undecided, I pull out a tub of ice cream, move to my couch, snatch up a blanket, let Felix get comfortable, and start channel surfing. I land on my favorite show, or one of them: home makeovers. I've always wanted to be a nurse, for as long as I can remember, but after coming down with a nasty cold and watching my first HGTV show, I've been hooked. It just looks so damn satisfying ripping walls down and cabinets, imagining a whole new look and making something beautiful out of something ugly and abandoned.
The doctors insisted on keeping Marcello at least another night, which was to be expected, since he had just had major surgery on his skull. Plus, he just woke up from a medically induced coma. No matter his pull or how much the hospital wants to get rid of the man, they're even more worried about a lawsuit in the event this homecare plan goes sideways.
My phone beeps notifying me of an incoming text.
Luciano:
Nurse Ratched just ordered Amoxicillin, is that OK?
I start to reply but pause, remembering how everything spiraled the moment I agreed to be his nurse. Marcello and Luciano both demanded my number like rival mafia bosses claiming territory—Give me your number. Now.
And naturally, I gave it to them, like a complete idiot.
Me:
Is he allergic to Penicillin?
Luciano:
Hold on.
I wait and watch the three dancing dots, since a commercial for some blue pill is currently running. Unbidden, my mind wanders to Marcello.I bet he doesn't need a blue pill.
My giggle startles Felix, and he gives me the annoyed cat eye.
Luciano:
No.
Me:
Then it's okay. It's to prevent an infection. When are they going to let him out?
Luciano:
As soon as the drip is done. An hour?
Me:
I should probably head to his place, make sure everything is set up right.
Luciano:
I'll have a car come get you. The driver's name is Alejandro, and you can trust him.
I stare at the phone. A car? For me? With a driver? Wow!
