Page 51 of His Game (His Obsession 1)

"What are we gonna do about it?" Tristan asked.

"Nothing," I told him.

"How can we do nothing? He tried to kill you."

Yes, he did. If I hadn't popped off that button, I'd still be lying in that dirty parking lot next to the trash and hypodermic needles. Before I could say anything else, I heard a scuffle outside the door.

"You can't go in there, Veda! Wait...no...wait! Dammit!"

The door flew open and Veda flew into the room, skidding to a halt when we all turned to look at her. She looked around a bit nervously at first, and then her gray eyes landed on me. She took a step forward, then stopped, her bravado leaving her under the weight of our stares.

I tilted my head, running my eyes over her. She was wearing a pair of washed-out jean shorts and a T-shirt with a Rolling Stones logo. Her feet were bare, and her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. "Veda, this is Tony. Tony, Veda."

"Holy shit," he mumbled, more to himself than to any of us. Then he turned to me, eyebrows lowered in confusion. "Wait. Is this Mario's girlfriend?"

"Fiancée," I corrected. "And no, it's her twin sister. But close enough, don't you think?"

"Spitting image," he said, looking toward her again. His dark eyes roved over her, from the top of her head to her bare toes and back again, lingering on her legs and tits.

My upper lip lifted, baring my teeth. "Put your eyes back in your fucking head and get the fuck out," I told him. Then I waved my hand toward the door. "All of you. Get out."

"Luca," Enzo said. "We need to talk about Mario."

"There's nothing to discuss. This is exactly what I wanted to happen." I glanced down at the trail of blood darkening my shirt. "Well, not the fucking getting shot part—”

"You were shot?" Veda paled, her eyes zeroing in on the arm I held protectively against my body. She shoved Tristan out of the way and took three more steps toward me before she stopped again, unsure of her place.

He glanced down at her, one eyebrow lifted in surprise.

"Out," I said again.

"Your arm," Tristan said. "We need to call the doc."

"Veda will take care of my arm. Go." I swung my whiskey glass in the direction of the door. With a nod, Enzo turned and walked out of the office. Tony followed, and Tristan smiled at Veda as he passed her, then closed the door behind him. She didn't even glance up at him.

When they were gone, I collapsed against my chair, spilling whiskey all over my shirt and pants.

"Oh shit," Veda said. When I raised my chin, she was in front of me, unbuttoning my shirt.

I grabbed her wrist, wincing. "It's fine."

"It's not fucking fine," she practically yelled at me. "You're too pale, your skin is cold, and you almost passed out just now. So let go of my arm."

After a pause, I did as she asked. "It went right through," I told her. "And I didn't almost pass out. I'm just fucking tired."

She ignored that last part. Either she believed me, or she just didn't want to argue with me. "Are you sure it went through?"

"I think I've been shot enough times to know the difference."

Her fingers froze on the buttons for a moment, and then her eyes dropped to the expanse of chest she'd just revealed, searching for evidence.

"Here," I told her, pulling my shirt aside to reveal a faint round scar near my left hip. "It made a bigger hole coming out the back, which is probably why you didn't notice it." I tried to smile at her look of horror, but it turned into a grimace as a wave of pain reverberated down my arm. "There's another one in my right thigh. That one got stuck," I told her. "And the doc had to dig it out."

"Is that it?" she asked quietly.

I thought about her question. My memories were getting fuzzy. "I'm missing a part of my left ear. Just barely. But if you look close, you'll see where the bullet grazed me."

Her eyes flew to that ear. "Good god," she whispered.

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